This week was the final stretch. It was a lot of work, but I surpassed my goal and managed to finish my YA WIP. To say that I’m amazed and beyond thrilled is putting it mildly. A big shout-out to Ifeoma Dennis for putting this project together. Her brilliant idea motivated so many of us, and hopefully helped make writerly connections that will last a lifetime!
Current word count:
Final count 64,988. Woohoo! Way beyond where I wanted to be. Manuscript is now going to sit and marinate a while before I go back and do revisions and edits!
WIP issues this week:
I think my biggest challenge was figuring out how I wanted to conclude my story. There were many ways I could have brought the story to a close, but the one I finally chose felt the most satisfying. The only thing is it will probably change half a dozen times before it finally makes it way out into the world! Haha!
What I learned this week in writing:
Outlining & plotting are my friend. This manuscript would have never come together had I not had a clear idea of where I wanted the story to go.
Last piece of fun research… A 1920s era movie premiere. Had to get down to the nitty-gritty of the clothing, the security, and even what cars were used as limousines at that time. All very fun stuff!
What distracted me this week while writing:
Cheering on my buddies. Not that this was distracting, but once I put the final words into my ms, I wanted to celebrate/congratulate/encourage all my fellow wipmarathoners!
Last 200 words (not the ending – would be a SPOILER!)
The brick hallway is dark and lit by a few candles. Moisture fills the air as the stench of mold and rot fills my nose. Henry reaches for his collar and tugs it away from his neck, sweat beading his forehead. As we reach a dead end, another bouncer, this one short and squat with crimson hair, raps another signal on the door. Marcus taps his feet behind me. The beat keeps time with my thrumming heart.
A moment later the door swings open and I’m knocked back by a wall of sound. Horns bleat out into the air, while the deep timbre of a saxophone follows right behind. Henry presses a firm hand against my back and ushers me into a smoke-filled room. Round tables cover the open space and almost every seat is taken. A press of bodies lines the dark wood bar on the far side of the room. Glasses clink in every direction and the combined sound of laughter and music almost knocks me over. Henry circles his hand around my waist and steadies me. I turn to meet his eyes and we share a tentative smile, knowing this kind of place is overwhelming for us both.
See other WIPMarathon updates here!