Monday, 21 April 2014

First NOVEL, First DRAFT

(Photo Credit: Me)

Several months ago I set myself a goal. A silly goal, or so I thought at the time.  Yet that darned goal got the better of me. It gripped me. It wrung ink out of my veins. It churned my tummy. It stabbed at me, pricked my ego, jabbed at my procrastinator ‘abort’ button, all the while mercilessly nudging me forward.

Well just as well that goal: 
  • had a mind of its own, 
  • did not under any circumstance allow its maker to give up,
  • knew that beyond the torment there is a freedom to be found, and beyond the upward leaps and flights of insane fantasy there is always a level ground upon which to return to.

And so my goal and I have arrived at a celebration point; a quiet, reserved celebration that simply acknowledges ‘we did it’.

As I typed in those
last lines of the last chapter of the first draft
I experienced a rush of excitement.
I knew it was done.
There was no lingering nor wondering.
I simply knew.

And, very quickly after that, a torrent of other possibilities; we could continue and this could happen, we could change that bit and adjust the twist to this or that or…

My manic brain had completely skipped the ‘celebration’ moment. The swell of nerves, the surge of adrenaline, the pffftt of satisfied exhalation had been swept up, pushed forward and propelled into the endless abyss of do,do,do…

Screeeeech! The brakes went on.
Wait a minute let us return to and appreciate
this ‘celebration point;
a quiet, reserved moment
that simply acknowledges
 ‘we did it’.

I pushed the laptop away a little and stretched my fingers along the beveled edge of my desk. (Thank you fingers.) I stood up, stretched my arms upward and let my spine unwind. And at the peak of my subdued jubilation I pointed one index finger toward the ceiling, took a little skip and said ‘oh yeah.’

It felt great pointing to that
 little moment of time
 and offering it an

So ... Now... Ta-dah… I have in my hot little hands the first warm print of the first draft of my first (ever in my whole life) novel.

It’s no secret I like to write. Sometimes it’s enjoyable, other times it’s painful. Most of the time it’s cathartic as it is my preferred creative weep into the world.

Today it is a silly little goal that has been: set, realized, acknowledged and celebrated.

And it’s true, now that I have done it I really feel like I can do it again.

I’ll keep you posted on the revision, editing, assessing, etcetera process.

Love Dawn