You know, you hear a lot of writers talk about "deadline dementia" and being in the "deadline cave". While I have gone through this too many times to count - focusing on finishing the book to the exclusion of everything else - this particular book was the worst.
It wasn't working.
No matter what I did. I rewrote and cut and started over. Finally, on version 5 (yes, FIVE!), about one month from the book's due date, it clicked. Please note, on the four previous versions, I had already written enough to have one complete book!
So here I was on October 1st, with 44 pages that I was able to salvage/rewrite from version 4. From October 1 to October 31, I wrote like the wind. And worked a full time day job. And wrote. I ended up with 263 pages. I slept, got up, wrote, worked day job, wrote, worked out, ate, and slept again.
So now, here I am. Book turned in on time. I peek my head and look cautiously around. My house is a wreck. It needs dusting and mopping and vacumming and polishing. My office needs reorganizing and I'm trying to learn how to put one of my backlist books up on Kindle (I got the cover done already!) I need to put up the Halloween decorations, get out the Thanksgiving ones, take one dog for shots, go to the dentist, vote (today is voting day!), pick up a foam roller at Academy sports, etc etc etc. Plus work. Yesterday I spent the entire day catching up there.
So I think I actually might be more stressed now by ordinary life than by writing. At least then, I was lost in the story.