One Hundred Twenty-One Thousand Words and Final Scenes

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Writing the final scenes is surreal.

I've been writing a novel for about four months now. If you take into account the planning time, then it's been about five months. I'm almost done with the first draft. That's a lot of words I've written this year. It's a lot of time I've spent working on it. Now that I'm nearing the end of the first draft, it feels surreal. Everything has come together in a magical sort of way—it hasn't been easy.

"Good stories seem to just work, but they are actually made to work by the artfully concealed application of a shitload of time." — Steven Hall, Maxwell's Demon

How much time have I put into this already? A shitload. How much more will I put into editing it? Another shitload.

It's worth it.

What's new since last week?

  • I'm now at 121,000 words of my first draft.
  • I'm at 91% by my chapter count.
  • A while back, I found an area that needed another chapter inserted—way back in the early part of the novel. I've completed that one, and I'm pretty satisfied with it.
  • I discovered even more synchronicities in my story. It's fun to find more of these. My spouse has seen some of her own, and we've been sharing them.
  • I've acquired some great books on editing, as I'm about to switch modes from write to edit. (Well, into re-write, depending on how you look at it.)
  • I've set my draft two goals and a checklist.