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desperanceOh, I do like finishing. As witness, ordinarily eight pages would be a staggeringly good day; today, I have written eight pages before lunch. And finished.
The numbers: 569 pages, 188,280 words.
None of which are any good, of course. Tomorrow, I start the awful job of actually reading every single one of 'em, and figuring out how many must just go, how many need replacing. There are so many different ways to tell a story, it's all about choices all the time, and so often you choose the wrong ones first time out.
I've got about two weeks, to see it, change it, make it work. Yikes.
But all of that is for tomorrow et seq. Today, I shall cheer Ferrari in F1 and England in the cricket; I shall read; I shall dither, and flap about like a loose end, because suddenly I don't have a book to write but I do still have impetus and mass, and it takes a while to slow a juggernaut. I've written half of those pages in the last six weeks. I jugger; I am Naut. (I do actually have a yarli, which is the head of a temple lion which was almost certainly cut from a South Indian juggernaut a couple of hundred years ago - but that's another story.)
Thirty - or, more generally, --30-- - is a printers' convention to signify the end of a manuscript. Uh, does anybody know why...? (Yes, yes, of course I could google - but I need to make lunch, before the Grand Prix. Sometimes it's just easier to ask. And so much more fun for you-all to run and find out...)
The numbers: 569 pages, 188,280 words.
None of which are any good, of course. Tomorrow, I start the awful job of actually reading every single one of 'em, and figuring out how many must just go, how many need replacing. There are so many different ways to tell a story, it's all about choices all the time, and so often you choose the wrong ones first time out.
I've got about two weeks, to see it, change it, make it work. Yikes.
But all of that is for tomorrow et seq. Today, I shall cheer Ferrari in F1 and England in the cricket; I shall read; I shall dither, and flap about like a loose end, because suddenly I don't have a book to write but I do still have impetus and mass, and it takes a while to slow a juggernaut. I've written half of those pages in the last six weeks. I jugger; I am Naut. (I do actually have a yarli, which is the head of a temple lion which was almost certainly cut from a South Indian juggernaut a couple of hundred years ago - but that's another story.)
Thirty - or, more generally, --30-- - is a printers' convention to signify the end of a manuscript. Uh, does anybody know why...? (Yes, yes, of course I could google - but I need to make lunch, before the Grand Prix. Sometimes it's just easier to ask. And so much more fun for you-all to run and find out...)
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(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-16 12:35 pm (UTC)Oh well done. I think you're well entitled to take a little time to bask before looking at it again. (I can hardly stand to look at things right after they're done. I don't even want to spellcheck.)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-16 01:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-16 03:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-16 07:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-16 09:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-17 12:20 am (UTC)Actually, I might have a lie-in. Start reading it in the library, which doesn't open till nine-thirty. Oh, the reckless, heedless bohemian life I live...
(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-17 08:10 am (UTC)(I know this because I am athome, doing my last-minute revision before my exam resit. So, of course I have to check your LJ. This is something you know all about. Although the last six weeks have somewhat disproved this.)
Stephen.
xx