Today I finish WolfKiller, my WIP since the beginning of April.
I began it at the start of Script Frenzy, taking an idea that’s been fluttering in the back of my mind for many, many years. It’s seen a few incarnations over the years (different villains, different side characters, different outcomes) but the essence of the story has remained the same for too many years to count. This is even the last project I was working on before I gave up writing for four years. Like, stopped cold.
Is it ridiculous to be using an idea I first had over … oh, god, twenty years ago? It feels like I should be, like I’ll finish it and look back and go, egads, what was I thinking?
It won’t even be properly done. Begun as a script, it will be finished as a script, though not one that will ever be made. It’s embarrassingly long for a movie, might barely qualify as a TV miniseries. There is enough for a novel, which I didn’t expect, which means that even though it will be done, the story told, I’ll still have to someday go back and write it out as a proper novel.
But today I finish this weird chimera of time and form and story. Today. I — in the midst of negotiating a new peace between a brand new pet, a darling one-year-old cream-colored tabby named Babs and my slightly disgruntled but more than intrigued original mackerel tabby, Greyson, as well as the week’s laundry — will finish WolfKiller.
Later, roast chicken and back-t0-back episodes of Doctor Who will be my reward.
I’ll be back later, with my total word and page count. And more than likely a lot of squees and capital letters and bold font foolishness. 🙂