tonight, I broke 40,000 words for my novel. Shit, that seems like a lot.

I suppose it is. Especially as it's all focussed on one thing. Since I tallied up and started keeping track of how much I was writing, it's now half of all the stuff I've written. Nine short stories, a blog, four unfinished screenplays = half a novel. It feels good. I came home tonight instead of heading to a bar, because I wanted to say I reached forty thousand, and I actually didn't want to stop when I got there. It's feeling more comfortable. I like the characters, even the complete bastards. I like where they're taking me-- or rather how they're getting me there, it actually feels like their story now.

I was talking to my dad a couple nights ago bout writing. I've been sending them links to the first few chapters, and they keep asking for more, which is a good thing. But he was asking me about how I'm doing it. I don't think he ever really thought about the logistics behind writing a novel before, but now I'm doing it it brings it a little closer to home for him maybe? He asked me if I had it all in my head and just sat down and wrote. It's not as easy as that. Wish it was sometimes, but it's not. And then I realized the perfect analogy for him. I have the story in there. I know where I want it to go, and the things that are going to happen to get it there for the most part. But the longer I think on it, the more solid, the better it gets, so that when I do come to write everything feels ready. It's like whisky, and my head's the oak cask. You bung all the ingredients in it, let it sit for a while, and then it's ready to drink. Except my head's not made of oak, and I'm not going to let my story mature inside it for 12+ years, but apart from that the analogy's perfect.

If only I could stretch the analogy a bit further and sell each book (bottle) for $50. . .