Well, here we are, folks. If you've been following this blog, you know that the deadline for the competition between Mercedes Yardley and myself has been pushed back to May 1st. However, this obviously doesn't mean that I've stopped working. As of this moment, Silas is sitting at 97,000 words. with my best guestimation, I'd say I have another 5000 words to write, perhaps a bit more. The problem with endings, at least for me, is that I start to fidget. I can see the finish line, and my knees start knocking and my fingers just want to fly away on the keyboard. I actually have to slow down - otherwise the words I put down will be, erm, less than satisfying.
That being said, I plan on finishing this rewrite (and it is a rewrite; much like The Rift, it's a completely different book than what it started out as) by Wednesday, April 6th. With this done, I can set it aside for a few days to hang out with Artwiffy, and then it's full-steam ahead on editing.
It's difficult to describe to you the feelings that go through my body when I'm this close to finishing a novel. It's a strange mixture of confidence and complete dread. One part of me thinks it will be the best thing I've ever written; another part fears it's absolute drek. It's these contradictions that I assume plague every artist in every medium...at least I assume so. I wonder if Stephen King or Clive Barker, upon finishing The Stand and Weaveworld, felt these same emotions. I'd love to one day sit down and talk to them, to my favorite writers in general, and discuss the amount of fear that comes with putting yourself out there.
Does the skepticism ever end? And if it does, are the emotions that replace it satisfying, or destructive? Just like with Silas, I guess we'll just have to wait and see.
RJD
That being said, I plan on finishing this rewrite (and it is a rewrite; much like The Rift, it's a completely different book than what it started out as) by Wednesday, April 6th. With this done, I can set it aside for a few days to hang out with Artwiffy, and then it's full-steam ahead on editing.
It's difficult to describe to you the feelings that go through my body when I'm this close to finishing a novel. It's a strange mixture of confidence and complete dread. One part of me thinks it will be the best thing I've ever written; another part fears it's absolute drek. It's these contradictions that I assume plague every artist in every medium...at least I assume so. I wonder if Stephen King or Clive Barker, upon finishing The Stand and Weaveworld, felt these same emotions. I'd love to one day sit down and talk to them, to my favorite writers in general, and discuss the amount of fear that comes with putting yourself out there.
Does the skepticism ever end? And if it does, are the emotions that replace it satisfying, or destructive? Just like with Silas, I guess we'll just have to wait and see.
RJD
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