331 pages. I'm sure it will be much less when I finally type this monster up, as I have huge handwriting and also put a space between each paragraph, since my handwriting is so supremely demented. But I have to go back and rewrite a lot. The second draft is going to be a monster. I need to:
* expand on the character of Robert, who becomes vital in the last third of the book, but seems like kind of a whiny wanker throughout the first two thirds.
* add the supernatural bit much earlier. Looking back, it makes so much sense - of COURSE Jack's still around, in some form, and of COURSE he's going to drive Anna nuts. But when I started it out, as much as I wanted to add that in, I felt like it would be too much. Then I thought, fuck it. I'm writing a book that probably won't be read by anyone but me, and whoever rejects books at a few publishers. And it makes sense. And I like writing it. So there.
* expand a few other scenes, because I didn't realize aspects of them until later.
* do some research on the execution scene, because it's pivotal even if it's very early in the book, and I feel like it would be disrespectful in some way if it wasn't totally accurate.
I didn't get as much writing done as I wanted today, what with relatives all over the place, and shopping, and being force-fed enormous plates of food from well-meaning relatives (there wasn't that much force, at least in the beginning, because the freshly caught crab was delicious, but a human stomach can only hold so much before it begins to rupture).
Thursday is my cousin Jay's birthday, so I expect that I'll be busy with relative activities the whole day. I adore Jay. She's like the little sister I always wanted. She's probably the kindest person I've ever met - genuine, authentic, and sweet.
Here are some pictures of my dog, Hunter, named after the late great Doctor Hunter Stockton Thompson. Knowing his personality as I now do, he may have been misnamed.
A blurry Hunter, wandering around the deck the day we bought him.
My favorite picture. He's put on some weight, and is developing some dark brown spots on his back. He's no longer a shy, scared creature, but a psychotic love-dog who wants only to lick you until there is nothing left to lick. Then he wants a belly-rub.
Those are my feet in the corner.
I'm really annoyed I only saw HELLBOY 2 once. It kicked all the asses in the world. And screw you all, I love Ron Perlman. He PWNS everyone. Ever. All the time.
- LV
* expand on the character of Robert, who becomes vital in the last third of the book, but seems like kind of a whiny wanker throughout the first two thirds.
* add the supernatural bit much earlier. Looking back, it makes so much sense - of COURSE Jack's still around, in some form, and of COURSE he's going to drive Anna nuts. But when I started it out, as much as I wanted to add that in, I felt like it would be too much. Then I thought, fuck it. I'm writing a book that probably won't be read by anyone but me, and whoever rejects books at a few publishers. And it makes sense. And I like writing it. So there.
* expand a few other scenes, because I didn't realize aspects of them until later.
* do some research on the execution scene, because it's pivotal even if it's very early in the book, and I feel like it would be disrespectful in some way if it wasn't totally accurate.
I didn't get as much writing done as I wanted today, what with relatives all over the place, and shopping, and being force-fed enormous plates of food from well-meaning relatives (there wasn't that much force, at least in the beginning, because the freshly caught crab was delicious, but a human stomach can only hold so much before it begins to rupture).
Thursday is my cousin Jay's birthday, so I expect that I'll be busy with relative activities the whole day. I adore Jay. She's like the little sister I always wanted. She's probably the kindest person I've ever met - genuine, authentic, and sweet.
Here are some pictures of my dog, Hunter, named after the late great Doctor Hunter Stockton Thompson. Knowing his personality as I now do, he may have been misnamed.
A blurry Hunter, wandering around the deck the day we bought him.
My favorite picture. He's put on some weight, and is developing some dark brown spots on his back. He's no longer a shy, scared creature, but a psychotic love-dog who wants only to lick you until there is nothing left to lick. Then he wants a belly-rub.
Those are my feet in the corner.
I'm really annoyed I only saw HELLBOY 2 once. It kicked all the asses in the world. And screw you all, I love Ron Perlman. He PWNS everyone. Ever. All the time.
- LV
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