‘m at the dizzying point in my novel where I have about 20,000 words left to write. As I judge it, there’s about 10,000 words more that need to connect the two sections of my manuscript (and I know most of what goes on in there) and about 5000 words of wind-down at the end. This adds up to 20,000 because I know my writing style–at least in other areas–and I expand on first revision, and so I’ll probably add about 15,000 words in revision (and that’s taking into account the fact that some scenes will get deleted). And that still adds up to 20,000 because I’ll drop 10K words in subsequent revisions. I’ve done the hard stuff. I’ve done the stuff that nearly killed me to do. From here, downhill, yada yada yada.
I am a big fan of revisions. Have I mentioned this? I think that revisions are what make a story. I am a big fan of macro-revisions–rearranging large parts, changing motivations when it doesn’t work–and micro-revisions, e.g. laboriously printing out the manuscript, making changes, entering them, and repeating until it’s picture perfect. In my other job, I go through . . . many. Many. Drafts. Of things.
When I first started writing this novel I had no clue what book I was writing. Ha ha ha. I laugh at what I thought then. So much has changed since the end of October when Ornithology was a gleam in my eye. At this point, it feels like the Death Star in The Return of the Jedi: fully functional yet still under construction, and likely plagued with a problem such that anyone with a Bothan spy network could figure out that ONE well-placed torpedo could take down the whole thing.

Here is a line of text which replaces about four paragraphs of ranting and raving about all the ways in which one could torpedo my novel. I sum up: Ack!