It never fails. Whenever I leave Toronto for New House, it's bright and sunny. As I drive, clouds begin to cover the sky, so that by the time I hit Bolton it's totally overcast, and by the time I reach Palgrave the weather is even less lovely. Usually this means rain; yesterday, however, it was snow. Snow! Just little spitting flakes of snow, too few to linger on the ground, but still. Snow. I am not Marissa. This change does not make me happy. Still, it's bright and sunny right now, and there's supposed to be an eclipse beginning in a few hours, and if I'm here I can lay back in a chair in the courtyard and watch it through the massive skylight. There are advantages.
So, the story continues. I lied in my last post; shortly after writing that, I thought "Screw it," and went and read what I'd written so far. It's not fantastic but it's readable. It's very first-draft sort of stuff, but I am encouraged because I remember how like a recipe "A Last Taste of Sweetness" was in its first draft stage and it turned out lovey and good with a little rewriting. Still, it's a different way of writing than I'm used to. Most of the time I'm focusing on very precise little scenes, which I see and know with sharp clarity before writing. When I do this, much of the "first draft" ends up in the final draft. It's all about rearranging. Here, it's different. But it's fun, too.
Yesterday I doubled my original word count, bringing me to a current total of 2,555 words. I'm around halfway through the story, too, so my pacing seems about right. I'd like to get the draft finished today, though, if I can so that I can work on editing and rewriting and all that other lovely stuff which is absolutely crucial if this story is going to have anything resembing a chance. Which means I should stop being lazy and get to work.