75,000 words. 192 pages according to Scrivener.
Do you have any idea what a big deal that is? I have been trying to write a full-length novel since middle school. That’s roughly twenty years for those keeping score. My first attempt at a novel was historical fiction set during the Revolutionary War. The heroine was named Elizabeth Dawes, and I remember absolutely nothing else about it. Dozens of ideas have come and gone since that first attempt. I got bored a lot.
Before we moved I went through my writing box and ruthlessly purged all the ideas and notes I didn’t need. They filled up a large garbage bag. Twenty years of writing was a long lesson in perseverance.
Another reason it has taken so long is I am naturally concise. My college assignments reached halfway down the last required page. I was known for picking topics that were too big for the assignment and barely making them last. My novel takes place over thirteen years, and I’m still struggling to find more words and more chapters. I have to write 50-80 pages before it’s long enough for my preferred agent to consider it.
Pray for me as I try to complete my editing by December and send it out for feedback from beta-readers. That’s a scary proposition. At the moment only five people have ever read even a portion of the novel, and only one person has read the whole thing (thank you, Caleb). I have no idea what people will think of it. As much as I want other people to read it, a part of me does not want to know what anyone thinks ever because they’ll probably hate it and tell me it’s boring and this was a terrible stupid idea.
But I’m not giving up. I’m too close to the end to quit now. Here’s to 15,000-25,000 more words! And thanks for caring enough to read my few and far between posts as I try to finish.