Finish!

And there was much rejoicing.

Yes, I've finally finished redrafting The Third Face. It's kind of hard to believe. I just sort of... wrote the last sentence and said to myself, "That's it, you're done."

After this blog entry, I'll probably be on break from anything even vaguely writing related for several days. That doesn't sound like a long time, but I still have people on my back for help with their manuscripts. Someone must be giving me a reputation, because there's a lot of them now. It's a good thing none of them mind waiting, though... Those are the kinds of people I like to work with.

I have a few books to read for other purposes. It's hard to believe I have the time to sit and read just for myself, but I do. Still, they coincide with a surprisingly long list of other things to get done. After this, though, all those things seem incredibly doable (especially since few have any kind of timeframe attached to them).

Rest--true rest--is a wonderful thing.

Going for the Juggler

I hadn't really mentioned this before, but there's a reason I've been revising so furiously. On February 25th, the Tiger Tales literary contest is closing. Everyone is waiting on one key factor: will they start accepting novels this year?

They haven't had any reason to yet, but with two or three other novels already being submitted, chances have never been so good. I've been complaining year after year that short stories just aren't my thing, but this time that might not keep me out of the running.

As you've probably guessed, I'm entering the contest with my novel, The Third Face, and have decided to bring it through one more revision before I get there. It's hard to estimate how much editing there really is to do; it was originally about 80 pages long, and it's grown to over 100 before I've made it halfway through. I can't tell you the exact statistics, though, as they keep changing.

The fact is that even though I take whatever chance I can get to covertly revise during school hours, I've still spent a good four hours of my evening each day since the 25th of January, and I'm still worried about whether I'll finish on time. There's definitely a lot to do.

Alongside that, I am still doing the same beta reading that I mentioned a couple entries back. I'll admit that it's not a huge amount of work in its own right, but my tendency not to give it priority has made it really slow. I'm surprised the author isn't getting really impatient with me--she has every right to be. Still, she's politely followed up about it, making me suddenly aware of my mistake.

I suppose it would help if I was able to say no when a close friend plopped a half-finished manuscript down in front of me. This isn't a really big deal, since I told him he isn't getting any feedback until he finishes it. But it does make yet another manuscript I have some hand in revising at this very moment.

Look how long this blog entry is running. And I haven't even gone outside my writing life here. For your sake, I won't go into everything else, but I will tell you that there's a ton more for me to worry about these days. It's a wonder I haven't died. I can't believe I was able to put aside some time today to write this blog entry. There are actually plenty more blog entries way overdue for me to write... when I have time.

The Third Face Excerpt - Panic Attack

Rasuke's blood hurt.

The pain spread in thin, piercing lines through his body. He fought to control his breathing as it threatened to outrace even his own gunshot heartbeat.

He’s a Demon.

Imagined claws pulled at his own face as if pulling it off would save him from the agony, the fear, the rage. The three confused into a boiling mass and escaped his body as a vision, hideous and fearsome, tearing at Leo's form.

The Demon didn't react, knowing nothing of the imagined foe attacking him. But he looked upon Rasuke with concern. “You okay?”

It stopped.

He felt perfectly normal all at once, but for the difficulty in his breath. When it, too, had faded, he finally blurted out, “I feel like shit.”

Leo nodded. “At least they taught you fun stuff. What's wrong?”

Rasuke shrugged and shook his head. “I just... panicked. Just now. For no reason.”

“Oh, Phoenix,” Leo sighed. “You really think it was for no reason? None at all?”

“I think it had something to do with... you being a Demon,” Rasuke admitted. “I don't even know what they are.”

“It's okay to hate us,” the larger boy said. “I'm not at all proud of what I am. We're despicable—detested for good reason. My race is responsible for so much pain. Including part of yours.”

Rasuke looked up into Leo's blue eyes just then, suddenly interested and alert. “What do you mean?”

“The story begins in Hell, as most Demon stories do. That's where we're born, or made, as the case may be. Everyone there is subjected to so many awful conditions... and most importantly, the rage of the other Demons. I used to spend my days there, rescuing those who seemed unaffected. And that's how I first met you.”