I got Boa Constrictor printed today. Except it isn’t Boa Constrictor any more, it’s called moss and feathers now, though I think Boa Constrictor is a much better name. It just didn’t fit the story, or the world, in the end.
I no longer have to care about word counts, progress meters, flowcharts and all the rest of the gubbins I used to try and kid myself I had control. But just for completeness: 127,900 words.
People keep asking me how it feels to have finished. It’s not finished. Blimey. Three, maybe four more revisions and it might be something I won’t cringe to show anyone. You don’t finish a novel. You just stop. But for now, la, I am stopping. The MA, if not the novel, is finished.
Everyone who is waiting for crits: I will crit you. I will crit you until you wish you’d never asked. I can rip up stories – just not this one, not for a while.