I’ve gone and signed up for National Novel Writing Month again. My goal: to write 1,700 new words of Book #2 a day for the next 31 days. If I keep up this pace, the end of November will find me a happy, over-tired writer of a completed, overwritten manuscript. I’ll also probably be wearing the same clothes I am at this moment (glad they’re comfy!) and have forgotten to eat anything but Kit Kats (there are still a couple left from yesterday. Are you proud of me?), but you know that won’t matter because: BOOK #2. Yay!
(Which means that I get to spend December editing the thing to death. I CAN’T WAIT.)
I have almost half of a rough draft finished (I culled thousands of words as I was organizing what I had so far, but I can’t talk about that yet because the grief is too new). My dining room table has turned into a plotting zone with scenes and notes and lots of lots of holes that still need to be filled. I don’t know how often I’ll be posting this month, but I can guarantee that my brother will finally be happy, because whatever I do post is going to be so. much. shorter than what I usually blog here.
Congratulations, Paul! You’ve been asking for this for years.
Quinlan asked me yesterday why I’m spending so much time on my computer these days. The guilt snuck in, as it so often does, but I pushed it aside (I’m getting way better at that these days, I swear) and told her that I’m finishing my second book. She actually gasped and looked at me with utter excitement. “You ARE?! Oh, what’s it CALLED??” And then we were off to the races.
I haven’t talked a lot about my novel-writing lately here, largely because…
I’m sitting at a desk littered with paperwork. I see two planners here…