121 words closer to mayhem.
I am this close –> <– to fucking Londinium up.
Also, considering how I might want to restructure this story, because this bit that was about..um..a few sentences in my overall outline, turned into three chapters of trench warfare, and two chapters of peril in Londinium, and a “in the chaos” is about to turn into something that should rightfully be it’s own set piece.
So…maybe I make this next bit the climax of this novel instead, and save Armistice and the Thwarting for book 2 and move all the Royals and Shitheads and Shellshock Issues for book 3?
It’s that feeling when you write and you realise your characters did stuff without you that you hadn’t planned, but now it’s going down, and okay, you just want them to be happy. Happy with flame throwers. Flammenwerfer.
Also, I just checked manuscript word count and it’s at 117K. So. Yeah. Some restructuring might occur.
How much revising do your novels go through? My drafts tend to be incredibly polished and come out with the slowness of somebody shitting out an incredibly constipated plot. And now I’m going to have to take my carefully polished plot turd and poke at it like an owl pellet.
This metaphor amuses me. It might amuse you, if you only knew the amount of feces in my manuscript already.