I’ve just crossed the 70,000 word mark. (This is a lean first draft, in spots, but already I can see where it wants to be filled out and it will certainly grow a good deal in revisions. I always tend to write short and then expand as I layer in what’s missing.) I’m right in the thick of the final climactic scenes. The cops are at the barricades. The barricades are coming down. I’m drinking enormous mugs of coffee and chasing them with shots of Rescue Remedy. It’s not pretty.
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be writers.
…or drummers (speaking as a wife of a drummer)
…or drummers (speaking as a wife of a drummer)
Go, go! Write! Write!
Go, go! Write! Write!
ROFL at coffee with RR chasers.
ROFL at coffee with RR chasers.
Could be worse, could be shots of bourbon… Go! Go! Go!
Could be worse, could be shots of bourbon… Go! Go! Go!
Literary snipers standing by!
Literary snipers standing by!