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Word count -- DEADLINE.
Oct. 13th, 2009 01:58 pmWords: 6,598.
Total words: 63,304.
Reason for stopping: end of chapter twelve. Time for cold medication.
Music: depressing goth rock.
Lilly and Alice: both sacked out on the bed like plush toys.
Deadline is now two hundred and nineteen manuscript pages long. Can I get a "whoop-whoop" from the audience? Because as milestones go, "breaking two hundred pages" is one of the big, exciting ones. (One hundred pages; 50,000 words; two hundred pages; 100,000 words. You know. The big guns of post-zombie apocalypse manuscript goodness.) Also, I'm into the next internal Book, and I'm approaching one of my favorite set pieces for this volume. So it's been a good next installment, all things considered.
I'm currently shooting for a finished first draft manuscript by the end of January, and am planning to spend a goodly chunk of my holiday trip to Seattle wrestling with my happy little zombie apocalypse. I started—and finished—the first book at Tony's kitchen table; something about being in Seattle just makes me want to work with the Masons on a very deep and detailed level. I don't have a problem with that, especially since the first book, Feed, will be out next May, and it would be good to be hammering on book three before book one is on the shelves. This is the closest to deadline I've ever worked. (Yes, I realize that I still have buckets and acres of time available to me. I also realize that I am very tightly wound where deadlines are concerned.)
The more I work in this universe, the more I fall in love with it, and the happier I become that Newsflesh, unlike the Toby books, is genuinely a trilogy. Because I think these books would break my heart completely if I tried to push them much further than that.
Alive or dead, the truth won't rest. Rise up while you can.
Total words: 63,304.
Reason for stopping: end of chapter twelve. Time for cold medication.
Music: depressing goth rock.
Lilly and Alice: both sacked out on the bed like plush toys.
Deadline is now two hundred and nineteen manuscript pages long. Can I get a "whoop-whoop" from the audience? Because as milestones go, "breaking two hundred pages" is one of the big, exciting ones. (One hundred pages; 50,000 words; two hundred pages; 100,000 words. You know. The big guns of post-zombie apocalypse manuscript goodness.) Also, I'm into the next internal Book, and I'm approaching one of my favorite set pieces for this volume. So it's been a good next installment, all things considered.
I'm currently shooting for a finished first draft manuscript by the end of January, and am planning to spend a goodly chunk of my holiday trip to Seattle wrestling with my happy little zombie apocalypse. I started—and finished—the first book at Tony's kitchen table; something about being in Seattle just makes me want to work with the Masons on a very deep and detailed level. I don't have a problem with that, especially since the first book, Feed, will be out next May, and it would be good to be hammering on book three before book one is on the shelves. This is the closest to deadline I've ever worked. (Yes, I realize that I still have buckets and acres of time available to me. I also realize that I am very tightly wound where deadlines are concerned.)
The more I work in this universe, the more I fall in love with it, and the happier I become that Newsflesh, unlike the Toby books, is genuinely a trilogy. Because I think these books would break my heart completely if I tried to push them much further than that.
Alive or dead, the truth won't rest. Rise up while you can.
