Wherein My Soul is Consumed Writing a Novel

I’ve had a few articles in my drafts folder and would like to do something with them, but a few weeks ago I entered the final stages of completing a novel and it has consumed my soul. More than I was ever anticipating. It’s turned from a curiosity to one of the most involving, personal, and cathartic experiences of my writing career. At this point I’m spending my time between classes at night, and then coming home at 22:00 to write until 03:00ish. It has given me a lot to think about, but until this goddamn book is done/ abandoned (my mother’s an author, among her advice to me was: “Novels aren’t finished, they’re abandoned.”) I’m tied up.

If all goes according to schedule, it’ll be done within 30 days. Actually far ahead of when I thought I’d be finishing it, but I didn’t anticipate it being all consuming.

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