I ended Wednesday evening feeling dreadfully unhappy with what I had done over the previous three days, so I took a break on Thursday and decided to work till Saturday instead.
Late Thursday night, I saw a post on Bluesky that read, "Measuring productivity via word count really is a waste of time," which I took as a sign to focus on reworking what I was unhappy with instead of pushing forward. So, that's what I did on Friday and Saturday. I still checked my word count at the end of Saturday—back to slightly less than 5,000—but I'm definitely in a better place with what I've got.
After my reasonably positive re-start, this has been the harsh reminder that I needed to be a whole lot more flexible with my process, that not trusting my gut and holding onto a rigid approach made me feel like a failure for taking the hiatus earlier this year, which in turn, made it even more difficult for me to jump back into the novel.
I think back to something my mentor in Norwich said when I told him that I hadn't completely outlined the whole book yet. "This is supposed to be fun." If ever there was a guiding light that I should focus on a little more, it's that one, certainly.