NOSE TO THE FRELLING GRINDSTONE

I'm throwing myself a little party. This is what happens when 1) I have no other topic to blog about, and 2) I've cracked 40,000 words on a manuscript that I have abandoned three times because it was Too. Flipping. Hard.

This is the opposite of a pity party. It's a "Oh Holy Carp, I Didn't Know You Had It In Ya, Kid" party (I play both the person saying that and the "kid"). So, bring your folding chair and dancing shoes, your drink of choice and snack of first resort. Shall we listen to some records, maybe smoke some of the funny stuff (I am, of course, referring to candy cigarettes or those old school clown cigarettes that actually spray water - funny, right?), or streak through the virtual streets? I'm up for it!

I'm not done, of course. Nowhere near it in fact. I'm thinking this draft will wind up somewhere around 75,000 and will require extensive editing as well as some after-the-fact research to clear up some details I've only glossed over (but highlighted to attract future attention).

But I've overcome my fear of something new (sci fi) and broken a few of my own rules (outline, write first and edit later) and the words are still flowing. The characters are denser and crawling deeper into the rabbit hole.

So, to all of you grinding through this chapter, that scene or them thar plot point, please know that you're en route to smoother waters. Just keep working.

Also, as a PSA, don't google images for "party time". It's...disturbing.