The Web Haunt of Ryan K Lindsay

I am done. Not completely done, but in the road trip of the writing of a novel, I have made it to my first destination. I’m at the motel and I have the keys to my room in my hand. I can relax. I’ll check out the largest worm tomorrow, but for now, I sleep.

Yes, I have finished the first draft of my novel, for those of you who found my opening metaphor a little too convoluted and exciting. Last night, or more aptly, yesterday afternoon, I wrote the ending and I click save, or Ctrl+S (’cos I’m a nerd about that, and found that I have saved this Word document over 1,100 times in just over four months, not bad).

The manuscript clocks in at twenty nine words shy of 118 grand. That’s somewhere in the vicinity of 470 novel pages. I cannot believe that I have churned out this many words. It seems insane that all of this has come from me. But it has, and now I am so relieved and thankful.

I can remember finishing my first real short story, The Friendly Skies. When I completed it I was so insanely happy. I had seen a story through from start to finish and it was a great feeling. The sense of accomplishment is a wonderful drug, makes me wish I had finished more other things in my life.

Now multiply that feeling by ten, that’s what it is like to finish a novel. It’s like climbing a mountain, or swimming a strait, or shooting a movie or even nailing a threesome. It’s awesome. Like all three there’s blood, sweat and tears, there’s moment where you second guess yourself, wonder if you can go on, but in the end it all comes together with a lot of perseverence and dedication. You make it happen, you are your own destiny.

I feel like I have proven something to myself. I can do this. Whether the story is any good or not remains to be seen. If I can ever get it published is honestly an afterthought. I have done it. Like someone who paints a self-portrait or builds their own house the first thing you think about isn’t the sale of this object. It’s the internal appreciation. I can sit back and tell people I have written a novel. I think that is wickedly cool.

So, what now, when does the road trip get to the giant worm?

I am going to step away from the book now. I will get some distance and come back in a month or so. I will read it all, which will take some time, and I will make heavy amounts of notes on the manuscript in red pen. I will see what needs changing, modifying and adapting. I will hopefully make those changes and then take it from there. If I still like it I will look towards publishers and agents and all that whathaveyou. But, until then, I am just so fucking stoked that I have finished a novel.

You can only have your first once, and this has been a pretty insane first. I will never forget thee, my love.

In celebration, I cooked a wicked kangaroo roast, with mashed sweet potato, corn on the cob and peas, topped with some Worcestershire sauce. We ate it outside in the summer breeze, fucking fantastic.
Then, blueberry crumble for desert. There is an awesome bakery around the corner and I picked a mini one up, and it was so much better than I could have hoped or dreamed. Ate it with a glass of milk.

Then, later, it was a PayDay, only the greatest candy bar ever invented. Ever!

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I know, how will I fill in a month? Easy.

Noir.

The next story, that has been gestating for a few months, is going to be a wicked noir piece. There’ll be a loser gambler high school teacher. There’ll be a femme that he follows. There’ll be a local caravan park filled with all sorts of crazies. There’ll be plenty of red herrings and lots of insane action. I’m thinking some sexual perversion, wannabe devil worship, a bartender that breaks fingers for sport and a gambling debt that turns into something much more personal. But in the end it’ll be people getting beaten up and stuck in situations they would love to avoid.

All for a girl.

Isn’t it always…

Posted on January 28th, 2009 by ryan
Filed under: Writing