I’ve been measuring time spent writing my current novel manuscript in imaginary unborn babies. Lately, they both seem about the same amount of effort and energy.
I’m now up to about a baby and a half.
In past years, I’ve gotten excited for NaNoWriMo, though I’ve never completed writing the Herculean 50K words in one month. This November, my goals are not a word count, nor anything so definite as a deadline (that makes that lovely whooshing sound as it passes by). I’m just going to keep my head down and stick to my mantra BIC-HOK (thanks, “Writing Excuses” team). Butt in chair, hands on keyboard, at least a little bit every day.
When I first started working on this manuscript a baby and a half ago, I thought I would be done in a few months. As each month passes, I get better at taking the long view.
Also all of my cells are vibrating for the release of Brent Weeks’ Blood Mirror. If you’re reading this, you should read it (and those in the series before it).
Michael Crichton was a pretty cool dude. He said this, which has been my mantra for the past few months:
“Books aren’t written – they’re rewritten. Including your own. It is one of the hardest things to accept, especially after the seventh rewrite hasn’t quite done it.”
I’m not on the seventh rewrite (yet). I think this is only the fourth, but I’m getting there. I sent my third draft to my first reader about a month ago and she told me, “It’s great, but it doesn’t have a middle.” I said, “I know, but I was hoping I could skip that part.” She said, “No. Middles are important.”
So I’ve been rewriting a middle. And once I rewrite a middle, I’ll rewrite the rest of it (again).