This was supposed to have happened a couple of weeks back, but - kittens.
Serious question of the day: how do you get them to stop pooping in your shoes?
Anyway, managed to shovel a whole lot of other things out of the way this week and sat down this morning at 48,100 to finish up. Rolled to an end at 52,148. Has to be the fastest piece I've ever written. It was at 5,000 on 8 September, so almost fifty thousand words in just over seven weeks, with weekends off and a fortnight of kitten sitting.
Think the 10k a week routine fits me better than any other system I've tried.
Plus, as I said before, this was an easy birth because it involved no research.
So, now I'm sitting on one dark novella and a 100,000+ Hookland novel. Need to sit down and work out what to do with them both. I have a horrible feeling the Hookland novel might be a bottom-drawerer. I must learn to stop writing contemporary fiction. It's like drinking waragi. It's a lot of fun whilst you're doing it, but the morning is filled with regrets.
It's a style that apparently doesn't suit me. Every time I try it, no one wants the manuscript and I start lamenting the time wasted that could have been put towards something else.
I feel like I've reached the end of that learning curve.
The next time I sit down to write, it's going to be another historical piece. I've done Australia, Iran and ancient Ireland, so I'm thinking I might take a shot at my homeland of England. Crap load of research required first. I'm taking a writing hiatus to deal with the above manuscripts before that. I'm in danger of writing and not delivering. I used to love editing, but not so much anymore. Just want it out the door and on to the next.
Still, I really like this one.
Pure, indulgent, poetic fantasy.