This has historically been the part where I give up on a story in disgust, when the first draft usually so completely fails to live up to the expectations I had when first imagining it.
I left Bestial for the whole month of December, and only the other day picked it back up again. I printed it out, hole-punched it, placed it in a binder and went through each page with a red pen. There were entire sections I hadn’t read since I first wrote them, and I was pleasantly surprised by most of it.
There’s a long way to go still. I have to reformat the narrative, fill in some gaps and make a couple of decisions on some key points. But success doesn’t seem as distant and improbable as it has on countless other first drafts.