I’m not writing, but I should be. I’m working, but I shouldn’t be. In other words, I’m sick and should be home in bed, trying to get over a flu, but instead I’m at work, because I’m out of sick leave.
The editors in my mind are actually being constructive. They tell me that I should be on my deathbed before I use sickness as an excuse not to write. But I’m not writing. Just feeling sick and sorry for myself for having to work in such a state.
It’s times like this I feel vaguely justified in sitting around and trying to pep up the energy levels with mochas, rather than flat whites.
This is as good a time as any for a full update on the novel. It’s about 42,000 words out of 50,000-60,000 words. The last little while has really dragged, but having said that, the middle novel will always drag. Now I’ve broken the final 20k or so left, it’s just a matter of swinging into the final conflict, and tying the ribbon on the storyline.
I don’t feel overly confident about the storyline thus far. Still, it’ll get written and then I’ll take a break before going back to it. In terms of writing in general, and this might have something to do with my recently getting published again, I wonder to myself why I ever considered writing without pursuing publishing. No more, perhaps. From here on in, I write to submit.
And it looks as if Cassie has found me something to work on once this novel is done. There’s a call for submissions on a fantasy based assassin short story anthology. Having said that though, the site she pointed me to is a great one, with many calls for lots of stuff.
First we finish the novel. Then we write something else.