Sooooooooo . . . for my ROW80 Update: Last night I decided to proclaim the first draft of Emergence as complete as it’s first draftiness could make it. I debated for about an hour before waving my magic wand because, well, I’m about 8k short of my first draft goal of 110k. That and there are many [fill in the space] place holders that need fleshing out. HOWEVER, (yes, it’s that big that I had to capitalize it) I have no doubt I’ll be adding many words — as well as deleting many others, as usual. But here’s the thing . . .
. . . the framework is laid, the skeletal figure held together with bits of twine and duct tape, the foundation in place. I can’t hit my target without doing a major rewrite because there are other things that must change.
To do that rewrite, I must re-read, from the beginning. And so, I have unexpectedly proclaimed the first draft ~Finis~. I have printed it out, will let it ferment for a week — or at least several days, possibly hours even — grab my much-loved and trusty red pen, and start to fill in the holes, create others, mold, shape, hack, torture, slay, and otherwise beat it into submission.
I should be happy dancing all over the place but I’m still a bit angry at it, and some of my characters, for some of the shit they pulled that I must now correct. And, of course, there’s the part of me that thinks it’s complete rubbish, not worthy of the laser toner and tree pulp I’ve just spent on it. I’ll get over that feelin as soon as I dig in and find the good bits. Then there will be much happy dancing and celebrating with flying monkeys.
So, what to give for a WIPpet this week? How about some more from Crossing Paths? For the 12th of June, I give you 12 lines from Ethan’s POV as he goes out on another “job”:
Ethan peered across the street from the relative shelter of a doorway. Of course it would be raining. What other weather would he have to be out working in? He couldn’t catch a break and have mild temps with a clear sky and a bright moon. Not that the moon ever showed its face in the back alleys he tended to frequent, but something that didn’t drench him to the bone and set his teeth chattering would be a nice change of pace. If he thought it was possible, he’d guess Gabe had a hand in the weather. That would be just like the rat bastard.
Why his target chose to be out on a night like this bothered him more than the weather. She just didn’t look the type to be strolling the dark underbelly of the city in the rain. Then again, most of his targets were used to the underbelly, and were never anything like the outward form they wore.
It put him in mind of a certain brown haired, emerald eyed beauty that seemed to haunt his every waking minute and some sleeping ones as well. She didn’t look the type to try and kick his ass, but she had.
And, in case you missed it, Kourtney Heintz, author of The Six Train to Wisconsin, stopped by the blog yesterday for an awesome interview. Hop back a post and read about this author’s work habits, why she chose Wisconsin for a backdrop, and how she coped with the emotional depths of her story.