In writing, it's the rewriting that's real work for me (and for most, I would assume.) That's why on a rainy day like today when I'm really tired from not sleeping that I'm happy to still be in my first draft. I'm nearing the end of it though, so what I need to avoid is prolonging the first draft to put off the pain of editing and rewriting.
Every project that works develops its own internal magic. The parts come together and the plot gels almost inexplicably (after hours and hours of reworking). My fear is always that this coming together won't happen, that after I've churned out sixty or seventy thousand words, all I've got is a big long disjointed ramble and not something that pulls together as a novel I want to stand behind and get sold.
Anyway, that's the phase of this novel I'm in now. It will pass, but it will be painful pushing on from here to the end. Not that I'm actually complaining. This is, in the end of the day, the only job I've ever really wanted.