It’s now December, and the madness that it Nanowrimo is now over for another year. My fifty thousand words are under my belt, and I have the coveted purple ‘Winner’s banner. My novel is not finished this year. It is drawing to it’s conclusion, but I feel there a few thousand words left to go yet. I have exceeded last years word count by a good margin, yet it seems to me to be shorter somehow. I have checked the word count, and that’s correct. I have yet to read the thing over. I’m saving that dubious pleasure for when this very first draft is complete. Maybe it’s the story itself that seems shorter. There are scenes in it I know I will probably cut, or at least heavily rewrite on the next run through. Perhaps it’s because the novel doesn’t have the feel I envisaged at the start. It is definitely more grown up than I imagined. Or perchance it is the story version of that difficult second album bands so often lament. The main reason is that I know this story could be so much better. Last years effort was silly. Deliberately silly. A novel about carnivorous Pies from outer space could not realistically be anything but silly. It was almost a fifty thousand word ‘off the cuff’ remark. This years novel is also silly, but it is aimed at an audience that just might enjoy that escapism. I wanted the novel to be a book for nine to early teens to enjoy, but in it’s current form I think it only goes so far towards that age group. Much of it if more grown up, and that, in my opinion, would bore a younger audience.
Anyway, enough of this nonsense. If you are a real person reading this I apologise for my near incoherent babbling. If, as I strongly suspect, you are a dodgy Russian search engine, then I apologise too, but as I don’t know the Russian word for sorry it probably won’t really mean very much.
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