Scriptly Speaking
That Draft Novel is Staring at Me Again
So, I wrote a thing, a manuscript, a dystopian tale.
Here are 100 words about how it feels.
They made me do it. The copywriters over there. Super-confident wordsmiths, the lot of them. They made it sound easy. Two bad pages a day. Yep, I can manage that. I have loads of bad pages up here {taps head}. Taps keyboard. Day after day. Eighty days precisely. Around The Plot in Eighty Days. Around the twist in eighty days, more like. Seventy-six thousand words. A start, a middle, and an end. A story. One hundred and sixty-one pages. Bad pages? Who knows. There they sit, of course, staring at me, asking me the unasked question. So, what happens next?
(100)
You proof read and send them off to a publisher Barrie... if the words are anything like those that you publish here you have nothing to worry about! Just do it...