I've reached the tail end of the Peace Offer story, the point where I've got the bit between my teeth and it's time to power through. The good part is that feeling I've talked about, the one where the bones of the story have all been laid and now it's just time to hang on and see it all play out.

Sort of like kite surfing or water skiing. When the throttle goes over, if I've set my feet right and got my grip, then it's just up and go and by God don't stop to think about how it happens.

We're in the middle of trying to teach my daughter how to water ski. She's had a couple summers, pretty typical, where she'll take a pull or two, but then she'll give up for the day and ask for the tube so she can enjoy the ride. That's natural, there's a progression to it. We ride with her godfather, not every weekend because we all have schedules that make it space out more than that. Maybe two or three weekends a summer, maybe more, it all just depends.

Enough to get a taste for me, not enough for her to really get her feet under her yet. She will, the last trip last year she made it up, but then she had that moment.

I remember it well from when I was learning to water ski. It's the one where you get up and then you're staring at the water, there's this forever moment. The thrill, the rush of "I did it" collides...

with "Now what the hell am I supposed to do?"

It's the critical transition. We can tell you what it feels like, what you're supposed to do. But the getting up part looms so large when you don't know how that it overwhelms everything else until you actually can do it.

And then you get to learn a whole new set of skills. And oh, you have to do it at about twenty miles an hour while sliding around on a couple pieces of wood and hanging on to a couple hundred horses pulling you along the top of the water.

It's a big transition. A story in progress, when you hit that point, has that same magic. I'm comfortable now saying to myself "I've done this a couple times, I know I can hang on and not faceplant this".

But I'm still new enough at it to feel that rush of terror. In some ways, I hope it never goes away, I think that's the one that says I'm learning and I'm staying out there in the part of the craft where it's not just a grind it's a discover too.

"Oh, God, what do I do now?" doesn't have to mean I don't know what I'm doing. "Hang on and find out", I'm the first reader too and oh what a joy it is, isn't it, to read a story that's surprising you, the ones where even if you've guessed where it's going you still can't let go until you turn the last page.