An honest year’s work

I am pleased to announce that an honest year’s work has finally come to a close. And a glorious one at that:

I just finished the almost-final draft of a 100.000 word (give or take) historical fiction adventure. There’s still some editing and word-polishing to be done, which I hope to sort through by the end of the month. As you may understand, I can’t reveal too much about it at this point. Suffice to say it’s about 4th century Romans. You know, the Romans who didn’t look much like Romans do in the imagination of the average person.

One of the most gratifying parts of a writer’s job is that solitary moment when you press the last “full stop” on your keyboard, knowing your novel is done. It is difficult to explain to those who have not experienced it firsthand in their craft, but if I were to put it in words, I would have to say it’s a feeling akin to that of a mechanic who has assembled all the bits and pieces of the engine he’s been working on, tightened the screws and bolts in place, and then turning the key in the ignition hears the motor roar to his satisfaction.

They say Gaston Leroux (best known for giving us “The Phantom of the Opera” / "Le Fantôme de l'Opéra", 1911) used to fire his pistol indoors every time he finished a novel. 

I’m afraid I don’t have a similarly awesome ritual going, but I can definitely understand Monsieur Leroux’s sentiment. 

M.K.