In a surreal moment, tonight I finished my first novel. I clocked in at 50,379 words, and know there will be a lot of editing in my near-term future to whip the story into publishable shape, but I’m still shocked that I somehow produced that volume of prose… in 30 short days!
Things I’ve learned…? Writing a novel takes commitment and perseverance. It can be a slog, and sometimes feel as if you’re just adding words for the sake of cranking up the count. But I think I like the method introduced by this madness: If you think only in terms of keeping the story rolling for a good distance, you can worry about the niceties of editing later without tying up your muse in the restrictions of perfection.
For now, I think I’m typed out, but I’m looking forward to repeating this exercise on at least an annual basis.