After 8 months it's The End
When I started writing my first novel in 2001 I hadn't written anything longer than my university dissertation so approached it as a home brew writing course. I was trying to find a style, voice and subject matter than appealed to me. I followed with a second, another learning curve.
They were, of course, rubbish.
The third came very close to being published then my wife got pregnant with our daughter, Esme. That forced a rethink and so I tried to be a ‘grown up’ and put all this author nonsense behind me. I took a super corporate architecture job and wore a suit.
It was mistake right from the start and after 4 long years one day I wasn't allowed back into the building. That changed my life for the better in so many ways I don't know what would have happened If I’d stayed.
I set up my own illustration company which, after a year, is running smoothly but writing was just something I couldn't live without. So last October I started the first page of what has become ‘Mechanical Intelligence’ (a working title, one of many!) and today, eight months later I’ve just finished the first draft.
It ran long but a good edit will cut out 10 - 15,000 words and get it real hard boiled.
This has been such a part of life - I've thought about it or worked on it everyday - that I feel odd knowing that it is over. That weird void at the end of a deadline.
I’m going to spend the next few weeks modeling and rendering some of the scenes from the book as a way of cleansing my palette then its onto some short stories so no time to waste :)