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hawkwing_lbThere's a fifth of a book on my harddrive.
You don't want to know how long I've been writing it, but I'm going to tell you anyway.
My records go back to January 2007, with a file (09-01-07 "early morning" is its actual name) containing four thousand words. But it's older than that.
This fifth of a book (it was a third of a book, once, for a brief, glorious time) has been rewritten from scratch at least twice. I abandoned it in despair, swore off it, vowed I'd never write another word - and broke all my promises.
I keep coming back to it.
In Thessaloniki, I hadn't written a word of fiction for months. I opened a file that had fifteen thousand words in it. By the end of the week in which I was sick, there were twenty thousand. And thus it has remained. Until tonight, when I - driven by some stubborn compulsion - opened the file to pick at it.
Now there are 20,200 words.
I guess I can't give it up.
Although I may have to revisit the metaphysics... But that's window-dressing for now.
You don't want to know how long I've been writing it, but I'm going to tell you anyway.
My records go back to January 2007, with a file (09-01-07 "early morning" is its actual name) containing four thousand words. But it's older than that.
This fifth of a book (it was a third of a book, once, for a brief, glorious time) has been rewritten from scratch at least twice. I abandoned it in despair, swore off it, vowed I'd never write another word - and broke all my promises.
I keep coming back to it.
In Thessaloniki, I hadn't written a word of fiction for months. I opened a file that had fifteen thousand words in it. By the end of the week in which I was sick, there were twenty thousand. And thus it has remained. Until tonight, when I - driven by some stubborn compulsion - opened the file to pick at it.
Now there are 20,200 words.
I guess I can't give it up.
Although I may have to revisit the metaphysics... But that's window-dressing for now.
