3,600 words. That’s what I’ve completed in the last couple of days.
Actually, I have written more than that, but I move things around, I take out a sentence here, a word there–it’s like a puzzle and you’re trying to get the pieces in just the right places. It’s a good thing I am not writing with a quill pen and ink, for the manuscript would be littered with blots and crossed-out patches, notes scrawled along the sides. Hooray for modern technology.
It’s work and it’s a game all at the same time. Sometimes it’s a frustrating game and you want to hit your head against something hard. But when it flows, it’s good. When you get into that zone–whether it’s writing, or painting, or playing music or some other creative activity–you lose track of time. It’s pleasurable and exciting.
This is a period story that I’m writing, so the dialogue needs to have the flavor of 18th century England without being so archaic it sounds stiff and artificial to a modern reader. And then there are the details you must check–the sort of windows one would likely find in a newly constructed London townhouse in 1750, the way a lady’s dress and undergarments would be constructed and embellished, cosmetics and hairstyles of the period, the role of a thief-taker in the criminal underworld–well, you get the idea. The devil is in the details.
But then again, I know a very talented gentleman who does a great job getting the details right. You may be familiar with him and his roles.
And some of those details are just heavenly.
Ah, Richard Armitage. Endlessly inspiring.