Writing a book
Back about the first of the year my son and I decided to write a novel together. It has been a wonderful experience so far. We haven’t finished it yet, but we are about 2/3 of the way there. I just spent the entire weekend going over what we have written so far, looking for inconsistencies and typos and holes in the story. Tomorrow we start in again on the next chapter.
We have no illusions of writing the great American novel or anything. And while we wold love to see it get published, we aren’t holding our breath. We have approached this as a chance to collaborate on a project, to relate to each other on a different level. It has already been a huge success in that regard.
It also has been great for our writing. Ian Tregillis at the Jack Williamson Lectureship last month said that he decided to write a novel to improve his writing. I can really understand that; the same thing has happened to us. Nothing like 59,000 + words to make a difference — except maybe the next 59,000!
Anyway, this is a purely personal, egotistical post. But after sitting in front of the computer all weekend living through our characters in 13th century feudal Japan, I felt I needed a little pat on the back, even if I have to break my arm to get it!.