The end is here
I finished the first draft of The Silent Desert this morning. My output slowed down a little over the past few days, and I think it was because I didn’t look forward to this moment. Writing “The End” has a sense of accomplishment, but it also engenders melancholia in me, especially on a work this long. I’ve been so immersed in these characters’ lives for the past five weeks—I got out of bed at 5:15 every morning to spend some time with then—that I’m going to miss them.
The first draft came in at 95,555 words, which has a beautiful symmetry to it. Averages out to 2500 words per day, every day, since November 1st, including days when I didn’t write at all, though admittedly those days were few in that 38-day period. I know it needs a lot of work. The revision process will be substantial, but the basic heart of the book is now down on paper. Actually, down on bits and bytes, because not a single page of it has been printed out yet. Now I have to put it aside for a while and return to Missing Persons, which has occupied my life for most of the past 18 months in one way or another. At some times moreso than others.
In a wild moment of daring, I e-mailed the first draft to my agent. He didn’t know it was coming, doesn’t know the book exists. He may simply say, fine, we’ll put that aside until Missing Persons is ready to shop around, or he may read it. I know it’s a shambling mess, but I’m looking to hear from him if he thinks it’s a project worth working on down the road, or if it’s a steaming pile of dung, and boy is it a good thing I got that out of my system.
Insecure much? Not really, but aware of the realities of publishing.
By the way, if you get a chance to check out Elliot Brood’s Ambassador album, do so. Their brand of music has been called “Death Country.” It was a great soundtrack for my drive across West Texas a couple of weeks ago.
