"You're being insane," the Muse said. She was doodling with a Sharpee on the lid of the paper cup holding her chai tea. "It's a first draft. It's also not finished. It's also nearly three in the morning, when you aren't exactly at your most rational."
"That's besides the point."
"No, freaky boy, that is the point." She put her pen down on the table. "Remember when you started writing this book? How you decided that writing it once through without going back and fiddling with it was the way to go? So you wouldn't get caught up in trying to fine-tune the thing until you got it all down at least in skeletal form?"
"Right. So stop fretting about it and keep writing. When you get to 'The End' you're allowed to go back and smooth it all out. Until then, you shut up and keep working."
"Do you have to look so smug when you're being right?"
"It's a living, darling."