Wolf

Last night I passed 80,000 words on this novel. When I began, I thought I was turning a 95,000 word novel into a trilogy. I remember specifically telling people that I was going to turn the original 4,000 words into 80,000 words.

It’s been about five weeks since I began this novel and it would be nice to have come to a natural conclusion to this first arc by now, but I think the truth is that I’m turning those first 4,000 words into 120,000 – 150,000 words.

Something similar happened to me when I wrote Songs of my Mother. I originally wrote it as an 8,000 word story that I then rewrote as a 6,000 word short story. A comment someone made after reading it made me realize this needed to be expanded. When I began expanding, I thought I was turning a 6,000 word story into a 20,000 word story. This was more natural for me since a novella is my sweet spot. I love writing something about 20,000 words long.

But I blew past 20,000 words quickly and eventually that 6,000 word short story had become a 70,000 word first arc in a novel that was nowhere near finished. After six months, that 6,000 word story had become a 300,000 word novel. When I set down to do some rewrites and edits, that 300,000 word novel became a 400,000 word novel.

I suspect Twilight of the Wolves will eventually be as long as a million words.

I don’t rightly know what to say about such a prospect except that it is daunting. And yet, this is a novel I’ve always wanted to write. Always wanted to go back and correct ever since it failed way back in 2014.

I’m working at a scale that is just silly, to be honest, and the trick will be finding the stamina to keep it going. I think my plan, at least for the moment, is to finish this first arc, and then take a bit of a breather. I’ve owed my audience another Howl novel for nearly two years and I really ought to do that, and there are a dozen other ideas competing within me. Several half-finished novels, for example, that need to be pulled together.

Emrys the Fool, most obviously.

I’ve been putting that off because of the rewriting required.

Anyway, I really did not feel like writing this evening. That’s when I’ve been writing this. Right after the kids go to bed at 8pm, I sit down for an hour or two or sometimes three and write. Sometimes I pick it up again after my wife goes to sleep and I write until 2am or 3am.

But this afternoon was the first day of soccer for my boys and my sweet baby J had such a rough time. He really should have napped today but he usually refuses. This refusal leads to chaos and decimation, but that’s life. Baby V, too, was up past her bedtime. F seemed just exhausted by the day which tugged at me, though he gave his all to the soccer field.

What I mean to say is that today was exhausting.

But I got a thousand words. It’s not a lot but it’s enough to keep the momentum going.

The truth is that it’s been difficult to write since launching the kickstarter. It shouldn’t be, but there it is. I was writing about 20,000 words a week but then slowed down immensely that first week of the kickstarter, though it’s wild to realize that’s only been up for a little over two weeks. But this week was all kinds of trouble because my dad is back in the hospital. I wrote about this over at my nonfiction newsletter, for those who don’t follow along over there.

So it’s been an exhausting week both weeks and I haven’t much felt like writing, but I squeezed out 10,000 words both weeks. And it’s only Thursday so I may be able to hit 90,000 words yet. I should make that my goal and perhaps I’ll get there.

All of this is to say that writing is a habit, a muscle. There are days you don’t feel inspired and don’t want to write, but those are the days it’s most important for you to get down some words.

Because it is like exercising. No one wants to go to the gym. The easier thing in the world is to not exercise, is to not write. But choosing not to exercise or not write one time makes that next time easier to choose the same way and then, before you know it, you haven’t worked out in six months, haven’t worked on your novel in two years.

I am a fast writer. I do not say that to boast but to give context. I write faster than most writers I know or have ever heard of. I also happen to put out pretty solid first drafts.

But the way I got here is by sitting in the chair. By choosing to write. By getting up at 5am while the kids are still sleeping. By staying up until 3am and still rising at 6am to get them ready in the morning. I got here by writing chapters on the toilet, in Panera when I have half an hour between meetings.

It’s not only that I write fast but that I write a lot. I sit down and do it. I do it because I love it. Because I enjoy it. It is one of the true pleasures of my life and I would not stop even if you paid me (though it’s worth a shot, if you’d like me to stop, but I warn you – I ain’t cheap).

Anyway, today was a slow day. A small day. But an important one, for though those thousand words didn’t push the narrative forward–I’m still filling in space near the beginning of the novel–they did bolster two existing chapters that needed to have more meat on the bone.