I'm at the point with Bloodhound that the plot threads are starting to pull together. This is one of the most difficult parts of writing a draft for me. From here through the ending--which is difficult and emotionally draining--I'm going to be sweating it constantly.
I keep most of my plot ideas in my head, using the parts of my brain that aren't already taken up with song lyrics, phone numbers from my childhood, and what number the cable company has changed the History Channel to this time. This is why I can't do algebra; there's no brain-storage space left.
So at this point in the writing of any long project, keeping all the plot and subplot elements, character arcs, and physical description in mind as I write (and presumably strive for decent prose) feels like holding a very fragile raw egg. In my mouth. If I'm not constantly vigilant, I could crack the egg or even break it, or just choke on it, or just spit it out for a little while, that turns into a long while, that can easily turn into forever.