How can there be more?

This is what I thought today, after cutting another 500+ words from chapter three.

And this is supposed to be my finishing draft. One last quick read through.

I understand why, and it wasn’t as odious as it sounds, but I know what most people think.

Take my father, for instance. He TOTALLY doesn’t get it. For him, its been years of asking how I’m doing, a me never finishing.

“When’s that book gonna be done, son?”

“Soon.”

He’s probably given up. Along with a lot of other people.

But I am almost done.

For reals.

Six months. 5 new chapters. 14K less words. (Make that 14.5 and counting.)

An almost complete rewrite.

What’s next? Finish this pass! Then a final draft on Witness It, so that can go to the editor too. And then…

I have to learn a whole knew batch of skills.

Publishing. Scary.