So! I treated myself to a whole month of hardcore writing, with an intention of finishing the first draft of this novel. I ended up writing around 40,000 words total, bringing the whole draft to a whopping (to me) 102,000 that is probably about 4/5 of what needs to be there to complete the story. So—not finished, but progress!
But… I ended up in the wrong place.
After a marathon writing day on Saturday, during which I starting to have the niggling realization that I was boring myself silly, I let the manuscript sit for two days. In general, when I feel this bad writing it means I’ve branched off at some point and taken the wrong road. But it’s (still) a first draft so surely I could just charge ahead? Fix it in post?
But it’s so, so wrong. If I finished down this wrong path, the first thing I’d have to do in Draft 2 is chop off the last quarter of the book. So I hemmed and hawed a bit, but finally decided this morning that I’m going to backtrack and try to make a messy route down the right path.
So I’ve cut back to about 92,000 words, and here we go. Writing continues to be something I’ve done for almost 30 years that I still know nothing about.