o this happened two weeks ago: I finished – finally – the second draft of The Gospel of Isabelle Dequenne. It’s a bit bloaty at the moment, coming in at a mere 862 pages. Or, if you prefer: 215,403 words.
(Yes, eight hundred and sixty-two. Two hundred and fifteen thousand four hundred and three. My first-ever novel and I write something Dostoevskyish in length. Because genius, right?)
The final version needs to be around 400 pages max, so needless to say, there shall be editing and revising and cutting and cutting and cutting. I’m not anywhere near done with this project, but I at least have a draft that is, end-to-end, a story I can (I hope) be proud of. And now that’s it’s been left in the window for a couple of weeks to cool, I finally get to dive in and see exactly what kind of pie I have made.
(I kinda hope it’s pecan. I really, really like a good pecan pie. Although the story takes place in Normandy, so maybe a tarte tatin?)
There will be several editorial/revision passes. The first one, which commences in, oh, ten minutes or so, as soon as I finish this post, will be a simple read-through, with some light note-taking in the margins.
I have a printed copy, I have a red ink pen, and I have whisky. I am prepared.
I’ll do my best to post here as I go along. I have no idea how or where this will end up. But I think it will be fun.
Wish me luck!