Just finished the last Vaia chapter that needed to be added in order to make the first volume work. I thought I was going to Grow Old And Die before finishing that sucker. Every single time I'm nearly done roughing out a chapter, I get the same feeling of despair. You'd think I would learn to shrug it off, since it's so obviously a sign of impending completion, but no. Every single time, it's a huge surprise that the chapter finally ends. This, even though I've lost count of how many chapters I've written. Probably almost 40 for the first volume, and maybe another 20 for the parts of the second volume that got roughed out before I realized I had two books on my hands. (That's chapters as subsets of parts, which are subsets of volumes, for those of you who've been following the manuscript since the parts were called chapters. As Sam the Librarian put it, "Nothing two hundred pages long should be called a chapter.")
There's so little left that needs to be roughed out now. One almost-finished Rildis chapter needs transitions. One barely-begun Haldur chapter needs to be written, but living in his head is really easy for me.
And then, the cutting can begin.
Wouldn't it be lovely to be at that stage before flying to Seattle?
There's so little left that needs to be roughed out now. One almost-finished Rildis chapter needs transitions. One barely-begun Haldur chapter needs to be written, but living in his head is really easy for me.
And then, the cutting can begin.
Wouldn't it be lovely to be at that stage before flying to Seattle?