In which I commit to finish what I’ve started
My crime writer friend has been signed by an agent. A top agent, too, so there is much celebration.
And a little envy, of course. (On my part, not hers. Or the agent’s.) But she’s been working hard and, more than anything, she’s been writing. That seems to be key with this being a writer gig. Who would have guessed?
She also continues to be a good friend because, in the face of her own giant step forwards, she offers encouragement.
In other news, I visited another writing friend on Thursday — yesterday — and he was also encouraging. And he offered me something else: the chance to commit to a deadline.
It felt like the right thing to do. I accepted.
Agreeing a deadline with my friends is one thing but making it public is something else entirely. Here is what I committed to.
I have about 250 pages written of a first draft. It is in chaotic shape. It has a great hole at its centre — and I don’t mean where the dog ate my homework. (I don’t have a dog, by the way.)
One of the ways I hope to tackle the hole and to master the chaos is by applying the principles of Shawn Coyne’s The Story Grid. I certainly need some sort of framework to work with.
But back to the commitment. What I have promised my friends is that I will complete a first draft of the novel by the end of the year. That feels right; just close enough to be a push and yet achievable. Like a lighthouse at the end of a winding cobbled road on the rocky coast of past disappointment. (If only I could find an image that mirrored that sentiment. Oh, wait….)
I will post updates here from time to time but I promise — another one — not to make this a writing diary.
Good night. I have work to do.
