Well, I've made it to the two thirds point in the first draft of Buried Lies. I've strugged through the last few chapters, but this weekend I pounded out over ten pages, and this was between grouting tiles in the bathroom. I don't know--maybe the mindless chore of grouting is conducive to plotting or something. Whatever it is, it's working. And I have a lot more tiles to grout.
The two thirds point is usually a milestone for me, because the last 100 or so pages are the most fun to write. This is when all hell breaks loose and things look the most dire for the protagonist. Right now, Summer is sitting in a hospital waiting to see if her friend (who was stabbed) will make it though surgery. Then she's going after the person who did it. I still have two big surprises to reveal yet and I can't wait.
I also got an email from my agent today. She gave me the names of the editors and houses where she sent my manuscript, so now I'm trying not to panic. All major houses (cue screaming here). Don't worry, I'll keep reminding myself to take deep breaths.
In the meantime, back to Summer. She's got work to do.