Hello, again.
A few weeks ago, I decided to try writing a novel. I don't think I've hit my stride yet with short stories, but working on something longer and more in-depth sounded like fun. I'll still write shorter pieces, but will concentrate most of my efforts on the novel.
I won't give away too many details, but it's kind of about wise management of natural resources. But with monsters.
I committed myself to starting immediately after the first snowflakes fell, with a completion goal set for Valentine's Day. I thought that I'd likely start just after Halloween, which (I thought) would give me plenty of time to think things through.
Well, joke's on me. Snow fell this weekend (is, in fact, falling as I write this), and I realize that it's time to pony up the words. It's an exciting prospect, but also an intimidating one. I don't have much of a plan, but perhaps that's a good thing.
Worst case scenario: I'll have a crummy novel on file. I figure a crummy novel is better than no novel.
And hey, I might actually come up with something good. Who knows? It's new territory.