I believe...

I believe it's a good sign when you have to get up out of bed at 1:30 in the AM to go find the laptop on the couch and write down a couple of paragraphs that resonate in terms of character and story, and then make a revision which solves a certain descriptive problem that's been bothering you for six months. I believe that when such compulsion is the result of lying in bed for an hour and half and thinking about the tale instead of sleeping, one can take a chance on feeling reasonably certain that somewhere deep within one's brain, the important parts of a novel are coagulating and oozing about each other in a kind of subconscious lava lamp. I believe that for some people, such sneaky oozing is a necessary prerequisite to the hours of ass-in-the-chair toil that will actually produce said novel.

I believe I will write this thing.

I believe that when it's done, it will be a good yarn.

I believe I need to go back to bed now.