Reason for stopping: End of scene. I may tackle the next scene this evening, but I actually have my damned wordcount for today done.
Horrible thoughts abound: I have 334 contiguous pages written, and another 31 pages in scene and outline. That's--roughly--91K done. I'm about halfway through Act II of five, and I know I need to add between fifteen and twenty pages to Act I.
I'm estimating that the total manuscript will run about 400K. That means if I average 7K a week, it will take me ~44 weeks to finish the draft from here. Or, if I keep writing it at the pace I have been (which is a little faster than that), six to eight months. So I can expect a manuscript sometime between Christmas and May Day.
I have gotten spoiled, if that seems like a long time for a novel MS, haven't I? So this is me officially Quittin' My Bitchin' about how long this MF will take to write.
I'm realizing that the process in writing an epic novel, as this one seems determined to be, is as different from the process of writing a shorter novel than the process of writing a short story is from writing a 100K novel. (If you can parse that sentence, I admire you.)
I almost think works over ~250K or so need a different name. Because I kinda had this weird expectation that writing a long book would be no different from writing a short book, just more of it.
But it's not.
And it's good for me to be stretching this hard, I think. I'm not sure if the new skills I can feel budding will concretize in this particular book, or if they are likely to only be whispers of potential (which is what they are so far) but I am reasonably certain that by the time i get to the novel after this one I will have a lot of new abilities nailed down.
That's satisfying to think.
In other news? Kit's still a naughty, naughty boy.
Like untun'd golden strings all women are,
Which long time lie untoucht, will harshly jarre.
Vessels of Brasse oft handled, brightly shine,
What difference betwixt the richest mine
And basest mold, but use? for both not us'de,
Are of like worth. Then treasure is abus'de,
When misers keepe it; being put to lone,
In time it will returne us two for one.
--Christopher Marlowe, Hero & Leander