First draft = done. Finally.
Gawd, but this was a hard story to write–one of the toughest nuts I’ve ever had to crack. And the rewrite doesn’t promise to be much of a picnic, either.
Then there’s the length. At just over 40K, it’s technically a novel, according to SFWA rules. But the reality is that it’s less than half the length of a salable novel, and far too long for the vast majority of short fiction venues. Which makes it pretty much unmarketable. So even if I can whip this thing into shape in the rewrite, I’ll have nowhere to send it.
Nice little corner I’ve painted myself into, yes? Remind me again why I do this to myself.
More to say about this story, and about 2010 in general, but it’ll have to wait for another post.
So it came down to this–outflanked and outgunned, but still with one last job to do. Much better than languishing in an old jail cell, or executed in some back alley like an animal. If this was to be the end of Captain Nightwind, he couldn’t think of a much better way to go.
Slowly, he lowered his hands. He would not play the role of compliant prisoner. He cleared his throat, addressed the crowd: "I’d like to show you something. All of you. Something Serena Katz has been keeping from you. Take a good look, and if you still want to shoot me afterward, you can go right ahead."
I’m out.
