In the past seven days, I’ve written 23,546 words of my current novel, Seeds of Life. I surpassed the expected 90,000-word draft, and blew by 100,000 words without realising it. Every waking moment when I wasn’t caring for the animals and the children, doing basic housework, cooking, baking, moving furniture (my daughter’s moving back in), building a duck house and shovelling snow, I was writing.
Currently, the draft sits at 106,002 words.
This morning, I’m suffering from writer’s hangover, but the story won’t let me go. It’s all I dreamt about last night. This evening, after the chores, collecting drinking water from the spring, moving the ducks to their new house, cleaning up the basement and picking up chicken food, I’m diving back into the story to see if I can get the main characters out of the danger they’re in and bring them home.
I’m at the most exciting part of the novel, about 10,000 words from the end. I’m always amazed at where my stories go because I usually don’t know when I start to write them. This one is no exception. I didn’t know a particular character was going to die. I’m worried for another; I think he’s next. I won’t know until tonight.
Look for Seeds of Life October 3, 2021. It’s my first dystopian novel. There’s a few political jabs in it. After all, it’s politics that is destroying the world as we know it. But the jabs are short lived and only a sentence here and there. I hate politics in novels, but it was necessary for this one.
Before you ask: No, I don’t choose a side: all governments are corrupt.
I managed to write a post on my McGyver blog about Christmas Memories. That’s here: Christmas Memories: Hunting for the Perfect Tree. And I’m trying to read a few chapters a day of Where There’s a Will by Judy Penz Sheluk. I just read the part that included the history of daguerreotype photography. I knew much of it since I’m a photography nut. I also have an image on glass, and I’ve been to a studio that takes them. More on that in the review when I’ve finished the book.
Be kind to your future self.