I meant to blog on Sunday, but it didn’t happen. Instead, I plowed through revisions on my novel, and last night, at 9:45, by some miraculous confluence of productivity and divine grace, I finished my first* complete cohesive novel draft**, ever.
This is the sort of trumpets-blaring accomplishment that in the moment feels bizarrely anticlimactic. I got to the end and was all, Oh, there’s the end.
Today, I had it printed and bound into a big floppy stack and handed it off to my manuscript advisor. Here’s hoping she sits on it for at least three weeks, while I turn my attention elsewhere.
*My prior efforts, all three or four of them, are neither complete nor cohesive. Not worth revising.
**I almost all-capped “draft,” just to emphasize how profoundly messy it remains.