This morning, I finished chapter two of In Time (working title only).
Finished is an odd word: the chapters are in what I call roughs, meaning they are barely fit for consumption, and I would suspect bear little resemblance to whatever their final product might be. Still. Roughly 35,000 words, from the first sentence of
The cold ground, crusted with snow, cut across Elliott’s cheek like gravel.
to the last of
The sound never left his throat and as his head fell away from his body, the rain puddled the blood and carried it away towards what was left of Markur’s front door.
Um. Yeah.
In between, I’ve met characters expected and not, and I look forward to figuring out what Elliott, Markur, Sara, Uzzi, Calyx, Ronnell, and Cabe have in their futures. Maybe not so much Ronnell.
This is really, though, just a marker In Time (heh), and a small hooray for me for getting this far.