So, writing a novel is pretty easy. You just make up a story and write one word after the other until you finally type “The End.” Okay, not so much. Dang, I really thought this thing would just take me six or eight months, and it would be all done. Two years later, it’s…kind of done. After three edits, running it through Grammarly, and then cutting about 8,000 words, it’s reached a point that I guess you could call “finished,” although I’m sure there is a lot more work to be done before it’s actually published, however that may occur.
Let’s see, last year I wrote this summary: “…the novel is firmly in the “martial arts” genre. It’s the story of a young American who’s the son of Christian missionaries in Shanxi, China, around the year 1900. He finds himself in the midst of the historical whirlwind of the Boxer Rebellion, and after a heart-wrenching loss, he begins his own training in the Chinese martial arts. His story is tragic and uplifting at the same time, and in China he finds loyal allies, terrible adversaries, kindness, cruelty, adventure and love.” Okay, that still holds up. I guess I didn’t veer too far off the original path.
But wow, it does indeed take a lot of persistence to finish a full-length novel. There are a ton of things to consider, a million details to keep straight, and that nagging fear that some character you killed off in the first chapter mistakenly appears again in chapter twenty-five.
Still, it’s been a rewarding and educational experience actually writing the whole thing, and I’ve had some nice encouragement from friends, family and acquaintances along the way. I’m just starting the submission process now. Where it will go, nobody knows…
