This morning I definitely had a watershed moment. At some time around 5.30 a.m. I finally achieved a version of Benjamin Forrest and the Curse of the Miscreants which I am fully happy with, five days before the pre-order upload deadline.
While I would certainly never consider writing a particularly difficult occupation—in fact, the writing part is, for the most part, an utter cakewalk, and anyone who moans about how hard it is should try drilling coal or shoveling shit for a living—but there is a certain amount of pressure involved with meeting a deadline, particularly four books deep into a series and with people waiting expectantly for the continuation of a story they love.
“Time” isn’t something us part timers with jobs and families have at the flick of a switch, so like many, my writing always gets done in the cracks, and I tend to run these pre-order deadlines a little closer than I’d like. However, thanks to some great input from a trusted proofreader friend, this book feels like the best of the lot so far.
It’s also my seventh published book of the year. I’ll likely kiss my own ass for this achievement more in a later post—at least part of it; my sales are nothing to excite anyone about—but I’m pretty pleased to have got to a point where I feel I’m going to satisfy a few reader demands rather than leave them wanting.
The year is not yet done, though. I have another challenge for the last ten days of the year. My total output of new words is sitting at 389,000, so 400k is the goal. It might be only ten thousand words, but little milestones are important. I’ll feel exponentially more pissed off if I get 398,000 than I will elated if I close with 401,000. And that being the difference of a single very short story.
I’ll taper this off now, because I have writing to do. Onwards and upwards.