That’s me. I wrote approximately 4700 words on Sunday, finishing off a pivotal chapter in my book, and killing my first main character. Not the main character. Obviously. I mean really, how would that work anyway? I still have three chapters left in this book and I am not Veronica Roth.
I am approaching the end of the third book in this series. And, truth be told, this series could wrap up as a trilogy. BUT I have bigger plans. There will be unresolved issues! Missing persons! Love triangles! An unsolved mystery!
It’s all very exciting, is what I’m saying.
Back to the murder. I knew it was coming. I knew that this character was going to die. I didn’t particularly want this character to die, but I couldn’t see a way around it.
And so Sunday afternoon at around 3 pm, I killed that character. (See how I’m all coy even though by the time this book goes to print – if it ever does – none of you will remember this post – I don’t want to give too much away.)
It was harder than I’d thought. We weren’t close, this character and me, but it was still hard.
So, after the murder, I packed it up for the day and drowned my sorrows.
(Medieval Times glass. One of many. Medieval Times might be the thing I miss most about living in southern California.) (Things, not people. I miss the people more.) (Not all the people. Just the ones I knew. And liked.)
So, since drowning my sorrows, I haven’t written much. I am so close to the end of this book, and I’ve found that every. single. time. I’ve gotten close to wrapping up a draft of a novel I’ve gone slower. And slooower. And slooooooower.
Although most of Chuck Wendig’s Emotional Milestones of Writing a Novel are applicable to me, the end isn’t. The end is where the feet dragging and the procrastination starts up again for me. The Internet is Shiny! (And oooh, did you know that Sultan Mahmud nearly didn’t conquer the Kabul Shahi dynasty, but a pusillanimous pachyderm turned the tide of battle? RIGHT! So important!)
I think my deceleration might be because I know when I’m done, after the clean-up/cheez-its/whiskey/nap comes the loud breathing and blank stare of
DUM DUM DUM!
I’ve sworn on the soul of my second-born that my beta readers would have something to beta read by June. It’d be easier if my houseboy hadn’t thrown out my carefully hand-edited first draft (I’d done chapters 1-9) thinking it was recycling. BUT, I will persevere. Because I am a writer, and I will finish the shit that I started. (Why yes, I might have a small…
obsession – fascination – interest in a certain Mr. Wendig, but in all fairness, he’s awesome.)
And even though I’ve made promises to my beta readers about the imminence of the beta readable draft of my first novel, I will also promise you – the
unwashed fairly well groomed masses that I will finish the last three chapters in the next three weeks (i.e. by March 1), so help me Freya.
In the meantime, anyone who wants one of my completely ridiculous, mildly profane business cards, let me know! I meant to order fifty but ordered 200 because I was probably distracted by the fact that Margaret Wise Brown’s assertions aside, you cannot actually take a train to Timbuctu (or back to Kalamazoo from said location) as there is no rail service there. Childhood. Ruined. Since I also put my real contact information on them, I cannot, as suggested by my PSM, just randomly hand them out. But – I will send them with a funny post-it note to random internet strangers who read my blog!