The first draft of my novel, anyway. Just now this minute completed. And the funny thing is that with all this paraphernalia that’s surrounded me for upwards of two years–lists of scenes, a whiteboard cluttered with essential and useless stuff, four different Scrivener projects, scads of post-its and crumpled notes littering my desk, three different kinds of pens and a whole stack of chewed up pencils–all I can focus on now is the number of words in the final ms: 133,999.
I know this because of that amazingly nifty little Scrivener project statistics bar.
It’s 10 in the morning local time and I’m going to pour myself a nice shot of whiskey into my coffee.
Cheers, Keith. Without Scriv I’d still be stuck in the planning stages.
or you could join the rest of us underachievers here in the bilge. Under this table we are free to be who we want to be. Until vic-k gets a little too free then we all have to leave. Some things were not meant to be witnessed by others.
But libations flow freely. Hence the freedom and occasional need for brain bleach.
True, but the important fact at this point is that you’ve written it. No one would ever be able to read what you hadn’t written.
I’m on a requested revision of a novel that I wrote before encountering Scrivener (and had folders and images and sound and film files, etc. scattered everywhere), but have transferred everything into one Scrivener file for the revision. MUCH easier to locate things in a timely manner.
Congratulations. Don’t give up on it, even when you put it aside for a few weeks or longer; don’t give up on your story.