I hit the 10,000-word mark today. Again.
I get uncomfortable when people ask how far along I am with the novel, particularly folks who aren't familiar with writing or creating art in general. I know how snooty that sounds. I don't mean it that way though, honest.
It's just that when I say, "I'm at the 10,000-word mark," a lot of people take that to mean that I've only written 10,000 words—and I can't be arsed to explain the difference.
The first time I reached this milestone was last year, during my residency in Norwich. I ended my time there with a little over 20,000 words. The second time I hit 10,000 was earlier this year, when I decided that I needed to rewrite that 20,000 or so in a first-person point-of-view instead. This is my third time round, after I set out to expand the prelude.
I sent it to the person I'm working with too. I know that I said I was going to do so in my last post anyway, but then I started to wonder if I should. I got to thinking that maybe it would've been better if I had waited till I finished this whole first part. But, as fate would have it, the person I'm working with dropped me an email the other day and I took that as a sign.