The book is done.
I’ve written that now for the eighth time. I’ve finished eight novels. Or, at least, the first draft of the eighth has been written. It will be done done in a few weeks. And my second finished book this year, which is a first. That’s pretty wild, on both accounts.
This one was…an adventure. How would I perform under the gun, with a real, hard deadline looming over my shoulder?
The answer?
Not too bloody shabby, goddammit. Not too bad at all. Book six in the glory series is certainly a little different, but holy hell some things turned out great in the end, I think. I’m happy with the book. Which is a major relief, because boy oh boy, that deadline had me stressed at times.
It’s been a very long six months or so. The majority of my year was spend well behind where I needed to be. There was a metric shit-ton of catching up…but catch up I did. Very much at the expense of most other things in my life, which I’ll have to sort out here in the coming weeks and make a concerted effort to re-balance my life and really think about how I’m going to do things differently—or try to—next time.
Wish me luck with all that. So much easier said than done.
But tonight, the main thing is that: the book is done.
Night night.