In February of 2019 I started the first draft of a novel – lets call it “Project A.” Starting a novel is a thing I had done before – I had even finished a draft of one the year before – but it was no less daunting a task. Despite the excitement of a new project and the accompanying flood of ideas I could shrug off the anxiety. Would it be any good? Would I finish it? If I did, would it be worth revising?
18 months and 86,000 words later, the 1st draft of Project A is done.
A great big novel that no one will EVER read. This draft at least. If there is any piece of advice that most writers can agree on, its that no one should ever see the first draft but the person who wrote it.
Unlike the other novels I’ve written, 1 finished and 2 abandoned, I’m pretty happy with where Project A is. Although, I am already working on a list of things to revise and/or rewrite. This is good. But it’s new territory and I’m trying to pace myself so as not to throw out/change too much too soon. Part of me wonders if maybe I should go back and look at my other novel and attempt a revision there, just to get the feel for the process.
Beyond that, I’m feeling good.
I write stuff. Working on a novel. Working on a degree. Working on a life.