I must be starting to feel at home. That, or I’m still in “starting over” mode with the move and all. Whatever the case, I’ve gotten 29,000 words drafted in the new young adult novel. That’s about half way. It’s drafty as hell, but it’s getting written. A little less than half of that happened over the last two weekends. I don’t outline as I go, which makes me a “pantser.” That’s a business term. Sometimes the pants go on and stay on. Sometimes they don’t. I swear next time I’m going to outline. This is also the first time I’ve drafted this much without showing my critique group. I like what’s happening, namely the speed. Though I’m going to miss them really badly after the draft is complete and it’s rested for a few days. I’ll worry about that later.
Working an active job helps me keep my writing pace, too. Because I’m at a job where the day to day stuff is funny and sad and weird, and I’ve been hearing that old phrase, “You could write a book,” I’ve been thinking about some of the incidents from real life I’ve tried to put into each novel I’ve worked on. Example: my grandfather once pulled the steering the wheel off in a fit of anger. I put the scene into a story. I got the same comment from three people: “this isn’t believable.” And I’m like, hey, that’s the part that’s real. But, I cut it. I don’t know why real life stuff doesn’t work. Anyway, if I’m blog-lite for a while, it’s because my pants status = on.