Edits, Word Count, Edits, Word Count...

All my brain has been able to manage lately is edits, word count, edits, word count. I’m running through my manuscript a final time before submitting it for editor evaluation. I’ve been pouring over it and both loving and hating myself and my brain throughout the process. Meanwhile, I’m still trying to maintain pace on the second novel as I near my word count goal, which will not even cover the second act. I have a knack for long AF novels, apparently. This is both a blessing and a nightmare.  

Plus, I’ve got other things in life that need my attention. Life continues on around me as I shovel at the mountain of words that squat in my brain like an immovable toad. (Yes, it’s a mixed metaphor).I keep getting flashes of characters, scenes, dialogue, plot details for OTHER novels, ones I am not currently working on! My mind is a cluster cuss of ideas and I want to get them all out. But dear gods, can you take a break, brain? I know I’m literally complaining about having too much material, which a lot of authors struggle to have. I bet you dollars to doughnuts that anyone who takes a peek inside of my brain will have an aneurism.  
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So, this is where I’m at. I’m working as fast as life and my sanity will allow to get this monster of a novel to that finish line while only just starting the marathon for the second installment. Deep breaths? You mean panicked wheezy shallow inhales, right?