He’s hot. He’s young. He’s bad. And Sal Raniero can’t keep his ass out of trouble. He’s spent months learning to keep cli...
Thursday, June 26, 2014
Friday, June 13, 2014
It has occured to me that I am not the kind of writer who can dish it out daily which is fine with me. I get a little (hehe, ya, "a little") neurotic during writing and maybe that's just me. Hell, half the time in writing-mode, I'm walking around talking to characters.
So I was originally thinking 180k words but it's occured to me quite recently that it may end up being longer. And you know what? Really, seriously, do you know what?
It doesn't really matter. It's my picture and I'm painting it, and it will be done when it's done whether it's 120k or 440k. Ultimately, I have to be happy with it. If I had an amazingly huge audience and it wasn't right in my view, then I would have failed it. And I cannot do that. So I get one reader and a solid stack of papers in my view and well, I'm ok with that.
This was never about anything other than spinning a tale.
If people love it or hate it, well, everyone has an ass. But I have to be responsible to one - mine. My ass. My story. It's all about the story. And my need to tell it.
So I am embracing my silver threads and letting them lead me wherever they may path. For better or worse. And I will no longer beat myself up about fitting into someone else's box of what a word count should or shouldn't be. It will be as it will be.
So be it.
Peace be with you word count.