So, I was totally planning on hacking away at the cliff-face of The Giant this evening anyway, but spurred on by my fiction publication, I decided to sit down, shut up, and get the bloody thing done.
And it is.
So, whatever else may not be going 100% awesomely, today marks a kind of a milestone. This is the longest piece of fiction that I have finished, at 23,600 words*. Maybe not that impressive to some of you multi-noveltastic people out there, but quite good for wombling old me.
I have no perspective on whether it’s a good ending, yet. It’s entirely possible I just hammered out a few thousand words of complete tosh. But that doesn’t matter tonight. What matters tonight is that I finally got from ‘It’s just got another couple of thousand words to go’ to ‘THE END’ after months of stalling.
I am finally free to get on with
everything that’s unbelievably urgent in my real life my new superhero novel.
*Not to be mistaken for my longest single work, for which the frustratingly stalled Cyborgs and Androids still holds the crown.