“These are people,” I replied. I felt suffocated as we stood over the whole wedding reception. Surely Trent listened in somewhere. Kass’s lip twitched then she raised her champagne glass until the bubbly drink disappeared. “Half-people, my dear,” Kass said, hand her glass flute to a passing waiter. “They’re half-human.”
I still have to read through my first draft of Harvest. It's been nearly three months since I finished it but I don't know where to start. The obvious answer is page one, however, I don't know what I'm looking for.
I’ve been finding myself escaping into the ethers of the internet the past few days. Last night, I researched campers for four hours when I could’ve used that time to write, read a friend’s novel, or memorize lines for an upcoming show. Today, while I’m writing this blog post, I’m watching drum line cadence videos.
This is my first novel. I've learned in this process that determination and forcing yourself to sit down and write is the most important practice in achieving any writing goal.
At this moment in time, I'm frustrated over not being completed with a first draft of my novel. It's that feeling of working on one thing for such a long time and still feeling like you're on the first step.