And there it is: with a short 900 words run, 36,211 words later, Couples Dance is history.
I finished it last night about 11 PM, rocking through the last chapter after spending a lot of time trying to think about what I was going to say. But when it came to actually writing down what needed to be said, it came out a lot smoother than I’d imagined.
This was due in part to the fact that chapter was a wrap up. I wasn’t meant to give you any insight into what has happened, but rather a little window into what may happen. No hidden words of wisdom or anything like that. Just wrap the damn thing up and put “The End” at the end.
To be honest I was a little surprised it went that way, but when you are into something, when you know you’re writing true, then your instincts tell you, “Don’t word this up.” Say what needs to be said and move on.
So, from 10 January to 16 February I’ve toiled at Couples Dance, thought “toil” isn’t the word I’d use. I’ve loved this writing experience, but there have been a lot of strange things that went down during the writing of this story. Physical and emotional highs and lows, and this makes two stories in a row that, from that standpoint, have taken a lot out of me.
Who said writing was suppose to be this hard?
I knew this coming into the game. Writing isn’t easy. To use the words of a moron who was world stage for way too long, it’s hard. It’s meant to suck you dry, to take what’s inside you and pull it out and show everyone what you have that’s going to interest and entertain them. You throw it all out there for everyone to see, and it’s only a matter of time before someone comes along and says, “Wot’s this? TL:DR, but I can tell it sux! Lutz!” and you feel like you just spent five weeks running a cheese grater over your cheeks for hours at a time.
The thing I find strange–from my point of view–is how the story changed. It started out very much erotica. I still consider it erotica because the scenes in it do not pull punches. At the same time, however, a slow fog of horror start to creep into view, though it’s never anything overt. There is a bit of talk, a lot of history . . . and not a few matter that might turn people right the hell off. Yeah, Chapter 7, I’m looking at you. Why did you turn out that way? I thought I raised you to be better than that?
For better and worse the story is finished. Another 36,000 words down the memory hole and the hope that I can find a market for it, get it published, and see what others think. See if people truly believe that it’s a winner, or if I maybe spent too much time huffing paint.
Tonight I leave The Undisclosed Location behind and return home. I will probably start editing in a bit, because I really do want to step away from this story for a bit and let it grow on me.
This weekend, though . . . I’m going to pull out the first novel and start giving it a good looking over. It’s time to go back, and forward, in time. It’s time to visit other worlds. It’s time to get re-acquainted with Albert and Audrey and Cytheria and Tommy and Lynette.
It’s time to go Transporting.