"I'll Grind Your Bones, the Manticore Said" is done, and clocked in at roughly 5250 words. I'll give it the weekend to sit before rewriting and sending out into the world.
As always, I think it's great; as always, I will turn out to have overlooked some crucial point.
Okay, that's a good and solid 2k words on the novel finished for today. Two weeks of this may be doable. Maybe.
You know, I was thinking about talking to people who have written novels before and I have come to the conclusion that it's all crap. Everyone has their own process but they expound on it as though this was the only way, and if you're not feeling emotion X at point Y, perhaps you are A TERRIBLE WRITER though they carefully avoid saying that outright.
One person writes 3000 words in a sitting, and I feel inadequate. Someone else tells me they can only write 100 words a day and implies that the fast writers are careless and sloppy. Well, maybe they are and maybe they aren't, and maybe the truth is some do and some don't, and the real truth of the matter is simply that we all write at our own pace and the point where we go awry is when we stop thinking about what works and doesn't for us, and let our schedule be dictated by the fact that T.C. Boyle does most of his writing in the morning so the rest of the day must be worthless.
This novel is entirely different than the one I wrote before. And it's harder, but I also feel as though once it's done, I'll have an easier time with the next. And even if it isn't any easier at least I know it's doable.
I like the novel. I like pieces of it very much. Right now it's a sad and patchwork thing, but bit by bit it's attaining an actual shape and acquiring some depth to it. I remain optimistic. Look, there's even a little icon for "optimistic".