I just killed someone. For the first time ever. And it was horrifying. At least I hope it was.
Oh, did I forget to include a little detail? I didn't do it for real. I did it in the novel that I'm currently writing, Brooms, book 2 in the Uncanny Icons Serie. However, the deeper I delve into this manuscript (nearly 43,000 words and counting so far), the more real this fictional world and the characters (and creatures) that inhabit it are beginning to feel.
In fact, when I broke for lunch after writing that scene today, I actually had to take a bit of time away from the manuscript just to process what had happened, seeing as I had no idea when I started writing that sequence this morning that that's how things would end up.
Now that the story has taken this turn, I'm super excited to find out where things will go from here, but I'm also a little bit frightened. If I didn't see this death coming, who knows who might be next?
Brief thoughts and updates on writing, publishing, and life