I have always loved Fridays. I know I'm not alone in that. The reasons have changed over the years, of course.
When I was younger, it meant I could stay up late, since I didn't have school in the morning. It kept that meaning as I grew, but added on that autumn Fridays were best, and there was nothing quite like football and hot apple cider. When I got into college, it meant hanging out with new friends, and the potential of Saturdays, because Greenville South Carolina is pretty cool if you like to shop, which I do. Even now, despite the fact that I work every other Saturday, there's just something about Fridays.
The potential, I guess. The feeling that Saturday is coming, and that's one day with no rules or alarm clocks (though I set mine sometimes for fun, in order to defiantly turn it off, because I'm weird like that) and nowhere you really have to be, and plenty of time to do fun stuff, like working on a book. I remember doing that as a teenager, when the first draft of the second book (yes, I wrote two whole, terrible novels and started a third one that improved) was penned.
Tomorrow, I'll be doing the same at some point. Last night, I finished up a part I'd been working at for several days, in which the characters encounter a creature I wrote when I was in high school and honestly never thought I'd see again. While it's in the text for only a short time, it's nice to have it back. I look forward to using it in the future, because in the original short story (same universe as the two novels) these things were scary, the one break from utter unintentional goofiness.
And about that third book I never finished...
It was the turning point. The story became darker, the need more urgent, and the situation more intense. It differed so much from the original, in a good way, that it became the major catalyst for rewriting the entire story from the beginning.
I'm glad I didn't finish it, because you know that always means the story's not over yet.