The tweet I sent out Tuesday night read:
“Just finished the first typed draft of my new novel. I think that deserves a line of Dairy Milk if anything does.”
After less than six months I’ve gone from idly scribbling in a notepad to a full typed up draft. It still needs work, both in a plot and character sense. Plus I need to rewrite a lot of the dialogue, and the sentences too. All that sounds like I have miles to go, and that’s true, but I’m getting there.
It’s been years now since I even got close to finishing anything, so to even get to the end of a stage of writing just feels like an accomplishment right now. To have done it so fast, and with a clear idea of what needs to be done next just makes me so happy.
I don’t aim to publish it until next year, by which point I hope to have a sequel written as well, but I am charging on and I am loving it.
The very next lunchtime though, I was back at my writing station at the local Pret.
As an indie author, there’s always more to do.