(Me pretending to be at work. Although I'll be honest and say that the day I took that picture I wrote 0 words. Isn't that embarrassing. :-P)
- My current work-in-progress-I-guess-you-could-call-it-novel is 49,483 words now, and the delicious thing is that I am not sick of it (this is wild because I get sick of stuff I work on for a long time), that I don't think it's too bad (50% at least, isn't too bad), and that the story is not done yet which means it's going to be over the minimum word-count of a full-sized-official-word-count-novel, which is exciting.
- 49,483 words. I wonder how many of them I'll have to edit out. How many I'll add.
- I started writing this originally-just-a-lets-see-where-this-goes-story early 2016 - cried over it, loved it, was SO proud of it; imagined it to be a movie with famous actors and me shaking hands with Kate Middleton at the movie premiere and everything.
- Then I stopped writing because I was interrupted by new ideas of apparent geniality - although I came back to the very-unfinished-with-plenty-of-holes-here-and-there-draft sometimes; just to read it, to remind myself I had to go back to this story sometime, because it was like, even-though-I-say-so-myself; not too bad.
- So I came back to it, after a summer of thinking I was a good writer while actually I was not. I reread it, loved it and hated it. I wrote some more and felt the story sagging like a half-baked cake by a bad baker like me. (Random fact about me: I am not a kitchen maiden. Far from it. Me and the kitchen stress each other out.) I felt like the story was getting boringer and boring and that woe, it was starting to sound like a bad Christian fiction novel. A bad one.
- That was the oh-dear-my-writing-style-feels-like-dry-crumbs stage. I'm still sort of in it. (Scrap the 'sort of'. I am.)
- But I'm at 49,483 words now and that's something. I'll keep writing and see what happens to this book. I'll keep attaching myself to these characters - fictional characters that I made myself - characters that I just can't keep hanging on the loose end, however wild the forces of procrastination and distraction may be.
- I guess that's my favourite thing about this novel. I love the characters more than I have in any other thing I've ever written - they feel real and they're legitimately playing inside my brain like a movie. I've never had that before - I've always felt like my fictional characters were on-paper-friends, but these characters feel unstoppable. I've even cried over them while writing, which I've never done with any other fictional characters. So yeah, I don't think I should give up this potential-novel up. (Even though I feel like the writing lacks moisture and originality. Which I definitely do.)
- The novel has no title yet. No good one, anyways. I call it Green Eyes but there are about 10 books with the same title according Goodreads so I'll have to find another one. I'm very bad at titles. Why do you think I stole one for my blog?
- You want a little snippet? Just a little one, then.
Douglas is alive, Amy. One of my pals is alive. I am so thankful that I am alive… and that you are and that we’re still here to make the best of this confusing old world.