In the last eight writing days (read: all the writing days I’ve had since I got back as the other days were taken up with boring admin-ity crap and being weekends) I’ve written more than ten thousand words of Wizards. Or, to put it another way, a volume that represents a quarter of the current draft. In the preceding eight months since I birthed this ludicrous idea I managed to compose a little in excess of thirty thousand words for it, but in eight days of not thinking about Path and not doing research or writing query letters and just, you know, writing the damn book I wrote a third of that again.
I know what I want this to mean: Fuck admin stuff, just write! But I am unfortunately conscious that this is not a fair sample. It’s a product of being unable to work on it at all for the last four months but having it bob away in the back of my mind anyway. It’s a product of scraps of ideas and snatches of dialogue and question-marked concepts that I noted down in the middle of the night, on airplanes, and occasionally on the back of my hand when no other surface presented itself.
And I know that I spent this week lining up the dominoes of these chapters, little pieces one after the other so that I could stitch them together into something whole. Still. Putting it together and dropping it into the book is… There’s something awesome and vaguely alarming about producing three day’s worth of work quota in an hour.
In the white hot blaze of composition though it feels like I could write at this speed forever. That it is perfect and brilliant and not the typo-strewn chaotic stew that I know I will find when I go back to read over it in a few days. Still.
The words are so pretty. Gonna make more now…