Last weekend was the last gasp of summer and I spent it in the garden. Not weeding and watering, but with my fingers glued to the keyboard. Yes, I have at last reached the end of my first draft. My story is complete.
Well, sort of.
I’m at a surreal moment of elation and crisis. I’m thrilled at having got this far, but keenly aware that my story is full of holes, inconsistencies and great chunks I want to change, improve and delete – and add too, I think. There are character inconsistencies and plot weaknesses, to say nothing of the sections I first wrote a year ago that today make me curl into a ball and weep. And that’s before I start on the inevitable adverb cull and punctuation review.
I’ve learned so much in the last 18 months, and come so far, but there’s so much still to do.
And you know, I’d love to write great huge blog posts, but what I really want is to get on with finishing my story. You understand, don’t you?