That's the new title of my work-in-progress: Through the In Between, Hell Awaits. (Yes, "In" is capitalized on purpose.) Of course, titles are always subject to change. This is at least the third or fourth title this book has had since I began writing it a few months ago.
The progress? Well, I'm on page 307. I'm still not keeping track of my word count, and I insist that it is a good method for creativity without some looming distraction and pressure to write a certain amount of words in a day or week or whatever. Today I wrote about seven pages while my son slept, which is the most I've written in one sitting in a few weeks, and that's just fine with me. As Tom Petty says, "Some days are diamonds, some days are rocks". I wrote a few shorts last week and have been reading submissions for Through the Eyes of the Undead II. The creative juices for Hell Awaits weren't flowing as freely as I had wished, so I chose to work on other projects until the bug bit me again, and it has.
I like the direction the book is going, and as much as I will not allow myself to look at the word count, I can't wait to see what it is when I am finished. I have no real expectations, but I do hope it is longer than my first novel, which ran about 70K words. I think 80 or 90K is a solid number, but...ah, who cares right now. Writing the first draft of this beast is fun enough.
I have a good idea how the book will end, and there is a series of incidents occurring now that will bring the primary characters to the apex, respectively -- well, those who make it that far. But, though the book seems as if it will end much the way I thought from the beginning, there is something I hadn't seen coming that I'm unsure about. Sometimes books write themselves, as this one has done 75% of the time. And I worry about my protagonists. Really, I do.
Until next time...