Novel broke through 60,000 words this week!
I’m back to working on it every day, so far. Picked up my brush, so to speak, and went back to filling in different pieces of the section I’m on. I’m still jumping around a lot, as different things occur to me (and as mental blocks come up for any one piece), but that’s just how this book is going, I suppose.
I am starting to get tugs to go work on other stories, though. Had solutions to two big problems with my first novel just drop into my head the other day, which made me want to pick that back up and edit it. Also there’s a short story I’ve been noodling on for several months, that I figured out how to tell just last week.
But I’m trying to hold to the novel for now, at least till this section of it is done. I know if I pull away for too long — longer than two weeks, say — the chances are I won’t come back and finish.
Which doesn’t sound like me, but…it’s just so dang big, this book, both in scope and in final word count, that I’m still intimidated by it. Some days I wonder if it’s worth it to finish, if I have it in me to pull something like this off. Not to mention concerns with getting all these different cultures and time periods right, in terms of representation. I’m far outside my comfort zone, here, and it’s hard not to look back at the cozy interiors of a smaller story and wonder if I should just go back inside.
But not yet. I want — I need — to get this draft done first. I think taking breaks, to work on shorter stuff, is good, and I’ll keep doing it. Work that into my mental schedule, so to speak, so that I let myself work on something else after each big chunk of the book is done.
But I’m going to finish, even if it takes me another year to do it. After all, I’ve got no deadlines, no publisher waiting on this. When am I ever going to get the chance to do something this risky again?