Actually, I'm not headed westward at all. No, we're all headed east, spinning like a screwball across the strike zone of space. Or maybe not.
The point is that I am still making progress on Chapter 19. Patches of it come blurting out every few days, and I spend the days in between fixing that which gets blurted out. In other words, I'm rewriting as I go along.
It seems to me (and I haven't made too close a study of this) that I'm finishing chapters at about one per month. Given that trajectory, I should have a draft ready by Groundhogs Day, although such a deadline is not mandatory. The closest thing I have to a deadline is April, when the ten finalists for the contest sponsored by the Creative Writing Department at the university at which I work will be announced. Part of that step would be to submit a complete manuscript, which would mean having it done by then. Assuming that mine was one of the final ten.
In the meantime, all I can do is to continuing spinning eastward, always chasing the next morning.