It worked last year. Maybe it’ll work again.

That’s it. That’s my logic. That’s why last Wednesday, I started another 100-day project. Because I’ve been stalled on my novel for way too long, and I’m hoping this will work.

I’ve already given myself permission to fail, sort of. After telling people last year that the new Claus book would be out for the holidays, I’ve given myself permission not to be done on time. I’ll be apologizing all over the place, and sales will likely be in the toilet, but I’m not going to push just to get a book out the door by an arbitrary, self-imposed deadline and have the book be lousy.

Last year, my project was to write at least 1,000 words every day for 100 days, and I did. In fact, I kept writing 1,000 words every day beyond the 100th day. I don’t recall when I stopped, or even why. What I do recall is that I needed to let the manuscript sit so I could see what was there. When I went back, I found that I had a major logic gap that was going to need significant rewriting. Even though the material was decent, logically it simply didn’t work.

This was huge, because one of my tenets in writing anything is that it has to be logical. This doesn’t mean there can’t be magic, but the magic has to have rules. For example, in Becoming Mrs. Claus, as Meg reminisced on a conversation she and Ralph had about their first times having sex, Ralph mentioned that Claus magic does not extend to healing. This turned out to be hugely significant when (spoiler alert) Ralph had food poisoning and Charles had appendicitis, because it meant Ralph couldn’t fix their situation. If I hadn’t already set the limit on Claus magic, any reasonable reader could have asked, “Why doesn’t Ralph just use his magic to fix everything?”

This time, the project only requires that I work on the book every day for 100 days. I don’t have to produce 1,000 new words, nor do I have to spend a designated amount of time. (Most days, I spend around an hour, but I’m purposely not setting that requirement.) Researching counts as long as I also do some writing about the research. Editing counts.

On the other hand, jotting or dictating a quick note while doing something else does not count, nor does writing other things (including blog posts). The rules, such as they are, require only that I spend time each day actually writing this book. I can remove redundant bits, tighten dialogue, and correct chronology. (I’ve already figured out that the time Meg spends in New Jersey is garbled, with weekdays and weekends interspersed in ways inconsistent with normal calendars. This will require not only rewriting, but rearranging scenes, reworking transitions, and getting out a plain old calendar to say, “Okay, on Monday the 5th, X happens, and on Wednesday the 7th, Y happens,” etc. I can also drop in Easter eggs if I’m so inclined. (For those unfamiliar with the term, an Easter egg is when the writer includes something—a name, an item, a symbol—because it has significance to them. For instance, Meg’s little black cat, Lulu, is so named because one of Olivia’s many nicknames is Lulu.)

Another task is to look at material which comes later in the book and then insert clues and references to that material at earlier points in the book so that the reader understands the significance of the later material. For example, I once wrote a story in which during the climactic scene, the main character spotted a certain ring on the finger of the lunatic woman who was in love with him. As it turned out, the lunatic had killed the woman he loved and to whom he’d actually given that ring, and she’d stolen it off the dead woman’s hand because she’d convinced herself that she (lunatic) was the one he really loved. Once I knew why the ring mattered, I went back into the story and dropped in a few casual references to it, such as the main character recalling when he gave the ring to his beloved. This way, when the climax came, the reader recognized the ring’s importance.

Of course, if it turns out that I have a viable draft before the 100 days are up, I can pause the clock. It would be silly to keep fussing simply to meet the deadline. This time, the project is a balance of structure and flexibility. Having now done five days, I can say that so far, this feels good.

We’ll see what the next 95 days brings.