Okay, so I don’t actually know anymore of that song. I think it’s from the sixties? At any rate. This morning, for the third consecutive week, I got up Ridiculously Early (as in 6:20 AM) to meet my best bud Jenny for a Monday Morning Before Work Writing Session. Anyone who knows me understands this to be quite shocking. I am the furthest from a morning person anyone could possibly get–I loathe getting up as much as I despise onions and temperatures higher than 85 degrees. But somehow, working on one’s novel at seven in the morning on a Monday is a fantastic start to the week. And for all that griping about getting up, I do actually quite like being up early in the morning. Everything seems quieter, and the light is softer. So much possibility. Or something.
I finished editing Chapter Six of The Whale and the Tree this morning. Current word count is 108,940, nearly 5k more than the rough draft. I’m not sure how long this is going to end up being, as I already know I’ll be adding a lot, especially to the latter half of the book, which wound up really rushed as a result of hurrying to finish by the end of Nano, I mean November. I am cutting stuff, too, but nearly all the cut scenes are replaced by new scenes, so I’m definitely going to end up with more than I started. Aren’t novels supposed to get shorter when you edit them? Because mine definitely don’t.
Back in the day, when I was 15 or so, I went to a writing conference with a couple of friends. We were very definitely the youngest ones in the room, with at 30-60 year age gap between us and everyone else. I remember asking a question (in front of everyone in the room, which is no small feat if you happen to be an INFP and 15. Wow, I was brave. I hardly ever piped up in classes during college.), and the question was this: How in the world does one go about writing long stories? I’d written a number of short stories at that point, but how anyone could possibly ever write an entire novel was beyond me. I received this insightful reply: Get your characters into a lot of trouble. Then get them out. Then get them into trouble again. Repeat as necessary.
It took me a while to apply this useful principle, but it definitely seems to have worked. I’m quite certain all my characters hate me at this point, and I don’t exactly blame them, either. But really, who wants to read a story about lots of nice things happening to people? No one, that’s who.
*ahem* Anyways. Currently my love triangle is gearing up and will be firmly fixed into place during the next two chapters. The triangle becomes a square in Part Two, which of course makes things much more interesting. 🙂 No one has heard from the Countess for a while, she’s still up in the tower, and Talia is busy falling in love with Caiden, the elder brother of the guy she’s actually supposed to marry… This is one of the things I’m working with during the rewrite, building up their relationship more gradually and (hopefully) naturally. It’s much better this way. Kudos to Jenny (and I know there were more of you, too) who pointed this out to me. What would I do without those brave souls who read my first drafts?
So that’s what’s what on the writing front. Imrahil and I are working on Chopin’s Ballade No. 2–it’s nearly memorized now. *loves Chopin* Gotta get back to Ye Olde Beethoven soon. *shudders* That man was unusually cruel.
Currently reading: Myst (recommended by Danielle), Inkheart (rereading, ’cause it’s been too long and the third book and the movie are coming out in the fall), and The Princess Academy which I’ve barely started and just got at the library today. I’m also reading Danielle’s novel (which I haven’t forgotten about, promise!), and have A Passage to India out from the library as well. I’ve put myself on a strict no-buying-books-check-them-out-from-the-library ban until I start building up the fundage sacrificed for my dear Imrahil’s adoption. I never used to actually buy books until I *shudder* worked at Borders for six months. The only good thing about that job was the discount, which I put to good use. I have yet to recover from the actual experience of working there. Who knew that spending 8+ hours surrounded by books could be such acute torture?
Bed time. I was going to curl up with a book and read for a while, but I blogged instead. Lucky you.