When last we spoke, I’d happily overcome a small but persistent plot hurdle and dreamed happily of a golden era of writing production opening before me. Suffice to say, that didn’t happen. Said progress was followed by a week of non-writing distractions and after that the closing pages of the chapter chose to be particularly grudging in the whole flow-from-my-brain-onto-the-page process. Despite those annoyances, chapter 18 has indeed succumbed to my dogged, if intermittent, persistence and is now completed.
Suitably enthused by this small accomplishment, I jumped right into chapter 19… and wrote maybe a grand total of six words over the past two weeks. Between you and me, I think six words is a generous estimate. Last night proved a bit more positive, with nearly 500 new words committed to paper, virtually speaking, but I’m not exactly optimistic that will translate into another 500 words tonight. Past performance is not indicative of future results, and all of that.
I’m starting to come to grips with the fact that Sailing Venus will not be completed by Armadillocon. Again. This is a disappointment, as for the past 5-6 year(!) my bio has proclaimed that this is my current work-in-progress. I dread being that guy who’s always working on something but has nothing to show for it. I daresay I could’ve completed it by my self-imposed deadline had I managed to produce more than a single chapter a month. As it stands, I’m optimistic that I can have chapter 20 completed before the convention, which isn’t nothing, if I’m being honest. The novel’s currently tracking to have 24 (maybe 25) chapters, so reaching 20 will easily be the deepest I’ve gotten into a novel project since my very first novel I completed at the tender age of 17 (it was, of course, terrible). Since then I’ve launched several ambitious novel projects, which now lay about in various stages of decay. For good or ill, I’m so deep into Sailing Venus that I have no choice but to see it through to the end, be it in 2025 or sometime in 2026. Barring something wholly unforseen, even at my abysmally slow writing rate I should cross the finish line by February of next year.
And then the joys of rewriting begin. But I’ve been down that road before, and although my prose is a far cry from literary perfection, I think I’ve managed a quality turn of phrase here and there. This exchange from the final pages of chapter 18, for example, makes me smile.
Erica smiled sadly. “I’ve been worried he’d die before I can get him back to Delebat.”
“I know.”
“Oh, you did?”
“Duh. The Aye may have wiped my memory but I still know you,” Sigfried answered. “Of course you’re going to worry about that.”
“Aren’t you the clever little beagle?” She scratched his ear. “But I’m not worried about that anymore. At least, not as much. He’s not at death’s door. Not if he’s putting up that much of a fight.”
“So, you’re saying Death’s door is down the hall and to the right?”
“Not the exact phrasing I would use, but yeah, let’s go with that.” A large, bloody bubble popped from her nostril. She wiped it away with the back of her hand. “I’d say he broke my nose if it wasn’t already broken. How do I look?”
“Like you’re at Death’s door. Standing on the doormat, picking the lock.”
Hope springs eternal. And in this case I hope I have an update to share before another month passes. Be well!