I finished my vampire story. I actually finished it just a few days before Christmas. Well, it’s not so much a vampire story as it is a semi-autobiographical story, a snapshot of myself when I was 16 years old. It hits around 70,000 words. I think I deleted about 20 pages cause some of it was just too private, even if I don’t ever get it published.
That’s the kicker. I don’t know if I want to publish it. I don’t know if it’s even publishable. It’s almost too private to share. I don’t know if anyone else can relate to it. I’m so attached to it, that I can’t even tell if it’s good or not. It’s kind of scary, honestly. I feel like I’d be selling a piece of my soul.
I’ve decided to let a few people read it-my husband, my creative partner, and my sister. I’ll let them decide what I should do with it.
It’s nice finally completing a novella. It’s a bit of a relief knowing that I can finish such a big writing project. It’s kind of odd being done though. You put all of your effort into doing something and then it’s done and afterwards, you’re not sure what to do with your time. Lucky for me, the feeling isn’t that bad. I’m already writing another story. I’m already up to over 10,000 words and this story, I’m pretty sure is quite publishable, but I doubt I’m really a good judge of that.
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