And Must My Name Until I Die Be No More Than An Alibi?

Chugging along on Gingerbread Wolves.  I’m about 27,000 words into it and I’ve hit the point that is always hardest for me, the place where I look around and can’t see either the beginning or the end from here.  If my novel was a drive to LA, I’d be crossing Texas now, watching the sun slowly sink into the flat expanse ahead and thinking, shit–there’s still New Mexico and Arizona to go…

This time, though, it’s easier. I’ve not (or haven’t yet, anyway) been overwhelmed  with story fatigue. I think I’m maturing as a writer, or at least building up my endurance. I’m enjoying the journey more, taking time to explore the events leading up to my big climactic scenes instead of just wanting to rush through them and get to the “good stuff.”

I keep finding new depths to my world and my characters.  I sort of felt my away around Catskinner’s Book blindly, tossing all the random crap I had lying around my mind into one big pot and boiling it until it smelled good.  I made some choices that I probably wouldn’t have made if I’d thought through a multi-book story arc, but I think that’s a good thing.  It’s made me stop and work to keep the world internally consistent.

Still waiting on the audiobook of The Worms Of Heaven. My reader, Brandon McKernan has had some problems this fall, but he assures me that he is working on it and will upload it soon.  I am not going to pressure him–I love what he’s done with the first two, and quality work is worth waiting for.  Besides, it’s not like I have any room to talk.

CatskinnerSmallCatskinner’s Book is still on sale today, for 99 cents, so if you haven’t gotten it yet and you want to, now’s the time. Tomorrow it goes back up to $2.99.

My roommate gave me my Christmas present early (we do that in this house–I gave her an R2D2 car charging station back around Thanksgiving).  She got me both the DVD of the 2012 film of Les Misérables with Hugh Jackman and Russell Crowe and the three CD set of the Original London Symphonic recording.

So I’m jamming on ValJean and Javert.  It gets my blood moving.

Speaking of blood, expect a lot of it (along with ichor and other fluids) to get spilled in Gingerbread Wolves.  Bad things are going to happen–very bad things.

But then, did you expect anything else from me?

Back to work.  See you in the funny papers.

About MishaBurnett

I am the author of "Catskinner's Book", a science fiction novel available on Amazon Kindle.
This entry was posted in Gingerbread Wolves, On Promotion, On Publishing, On Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to And Must My Name Until I Die Be No More Than An Alibi?

  1. kingmidget says:

    Seems to me I tend to slow down right around 25,000-30,000 words and I have yet to figure out why. Maybe you’re on to something about that being too far in the middle to see either the beginning or the end.

  2. paws4puzzles says:

    Predictably I’ve come to almost a grinding halt at 50,000 after “winning” NaNo and letting other stuff take over. I wrote about a paragraph yesterday in a diner in Maplewood, but know I have 30K words to go on this sucker with no ending in sight.

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