Okay. Yesterday saw a milestone, and some of you witnessed it on Facebook: I finished my work in progress. Now, this may not seem like a very big deal to some people, and it may not be a very big deal to me later, but right now, yeah. It's huge. Do you know what a struggle this book has been? Later on, when I'm talking about how I learned to be a writer, I'll cite the two years I worked on this book. I'll tell how I almost succumbed to the self-doubt; how I learned what real writer's block is; how I injured my hand and almost gave up the writing biz altogether. I knew it was going to be hard when I started because of the subject matter, but I didn't know how it would feel to be in the middle of it, and when other things started to pile on, well... You get the idea.
I'm not completely finished yet; I still have to edit the damn thing. I've had a few people ask me if I would now do the expected thing and let it sit for a few weeks before tackling the edit. I feel very strongly that this wisdom doesn't apply here. I have prospects waiting for this manuscript, for one. For another, I took long breaks during the process, and I haven't read the first half of the novel since I started this last push to the end. I'm motivated and excited; I know what it's like to not be those things and if they leave again I'll take a break, but I don't want to waste them while they're here.
So I have a long way to go. I still have to make some hard decisions, and I'm still not entirely confident in my abilities. However, the editing has always been easier for me than the actual writing. And I'll have it done by the end of February, this I vow.
I can't freakin' believe it.