Last week, I started working on the first draft of a novel I had spent a long time planning and researching. I wrote 4,338 words before I ran out of energy and had to stop.
I think my problem was forcing myself to write about 650 words in one sitting every day. Most of my one-shots aren't even that long. I'm going to take a break, come back, and try not to do too much all at once the second time around, because I will be damned if I let all that research I did go to waste.
An excerpt:
Detroit, Michigan, 1924
Charlie peered into the darkness, waiting for the signal. He squeezed the wheel of the speedboat to keep his hands from shaking. Behind him, Teddy took deep breaths. Water lapped at the boat’s hull, as if imploring it to move.
On the other side of the Detroit River, a green light blinked once, then twice.
Charlie swallowed hard. “Are you ready?”
“No,” Teddy admitted. “Are you?”
“No. I’ll probably steer us in the wrong direction and we’ll end up in Lake Erie.”
Teddy placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “If it were me, I’d probably sink us. Let’s go.”
Charlie turned the key, trying to ignore the way his stomach was doing cartwheels. The speedboat awakened with a growl beneath the two boys, and they set off in the direction of Windsor.
Charlie stared straight ahead at where the green light had been, hoping he could stay calm enough to keep the Spider, their boat, on course. Teddy was gripping his shoulder now and it was hurting a little, but he didn’t dare say anything. As rivers went, the Detroit River wasn’t all that wide, but they might as well have been crossing the Atlantic. He and Teddy had been down to the river at night before, acting as lookouts for the gang and helping them unload shipments, but this was their first time directly taking part in a transaction. If they balled this one up...
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