A beautiful day, cool and sunny, after it rained all day yesterday–and I just couldn’t wait to get outside and resume work on Bell Mountain No. 13, The Wind From Heaven.
That wind was blowing for me–eight pages, whoosh! I usually average around three, or four on a good day. So this day was special.
All right, I knew what this chapter was going to be about: just as often, I don’t. Man, when Lord Chutt finds out what happened in this chapter, he’ll hit the ceiling. The poor guy’s had a lot of unsettling surprises lately: sometimes it’s tough to be the villain.
May my work be fruitful in your service, Lord.
That’s something I’ve always wondered about. I’ve never written anything longer than a short story, but I always wondered how much a novelist would write in a day. Write too little and continuity could suffer, write too much and it could go stale.
I just write what’s in me for that day.
Makes sense.