I have 3.2 chapters left. I know because I keep checking. Danny made me this fantastic Excel spreadsheet that calculates how many words I've written, how many are left, my average word count per chapter, and the percentage of done-ness I've attained.
So I've got 7,230 words to go and it's driving me crazy, because I can hardly deal with or think about anything else. Grocery shopping and meal planning and cleaning is spotty at best (which is why the whole gross dinner episode from the previous post was that much more upsetting).
The upside is that things moving fast, because I've had this ending in my head for eight months and it's finally happening.
I'll be meeting with my lovely editors tomorrow morning to discuss the next book. Why discuss the next book, you ask? Well, I can't name one of my characters in this book until the next title is finalized. And the powers that be need to sign off at on that title, or a virus will be unleashed upon the earth rendering certain death and destruction.
Or there will be awkward edits later on. One of those.
I am looking forward to the next book. While it is featuring a different character (who will not be named at this time because, well, she doesn't have an official name yet), but most of the characters in the current book will appear in the next. And that's fun - I hope someday I'll get a chance to write a follow-up to Divine Discontent because I loved the characters so much.
Fiction writing is so weird. I spend a lot of time worrying about people who don't exist.
I really love Despair.com. The cynicism brings me great joy. And while I was looking for this to post at the bottom (because it shows again how insanity and fiction are closely linked):
...I found this:
Oh dear. So bad...and yet...I chuckle.