I've written over 6,000 words in the last three days. (Yes, those of you I spoke to last night heard me say "nearly 6,000." I wrote more after we parted ways.) I am still utterly charmed and bemused by the character who's refusing to die when he's supposed to. And some of what he's had me writing has made me feel like Crowmaker is opening up in a new way. Which may make the book longer than I'd come to believe, which may make it no longer a YA, which may require me to spend more time on it than I'd come to believe I might.
All of the above is OK. No deadline, no contract that says it must be a certain length or fit into a certain genre. Most of the "OMG, must write" scenes are out of my head, although a couple are still bumping around in my brain, not quite ready to be born yet. I will spend the first part of the morning sketching out some new ideas and seeing if/how they fit with what I already have. (And the beauty of my inspiration, at least in its current state, is that no huge chunks of existing story will have to be chucked out the window. What's already happened will still stand, for the most part. Except the ending. Well, not the entire ending. Just a few lines. But it's only written in the sketchiest form at the moment anyhow.)
No, I am not a very linear process kind of person, apparently. I think sometimes that this whole gig would be a ton easier if I were, but I guess you take what you've got and learn to work with it.