I was supposed to work on my freelance stuff today. I have a pile of work to do, a veritable pile, but instead I sat down and wrote another 5,000 words of One by One, plowing through the two climatic scenes that I needed to write to finish the novel. One of them I knew of from the beginning, a terrible scene that was as inevitable as it was hard to write, while the second came to me over the course of the last twenty thousand words, a fitting end though I didn’t know how it would go down.

Starting yesterday I began that final race toward the end, and today I nearly finished it. I’ve got a bit more to go, perhaps another couple of thousand words, but I’m pretty much done. It’s not going to be the 86k I had hoped, coming in instead at 80k, but it is what it is, and that might just give me time to start on my next novel a little earlier.

Ah, me. This was a good novel to write. I had to dig deep for some scenes, and the ending, when I wrote it, at least, the pivotal of the 2 final scenes, was hard to write. When I was done I realized that my heart was racing, and I had to sit back and give myself a moment to calm down. I’ve no idea if the ending will resonate with readers, if they’ll find it contrived or overdone, too obvious or ham fisted, but I wrote it, I enjoyed writing it, or more accurately, it was a good kind of pain, and I’m glad it’s down on paper, and now to the final few thousand words before I wrap it all up.

It’s too early to write a retrospective on January just yet, but I feel like emotionally One by One is now behind me. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.