It is, however, *this* end. The last day in which what I’m doing could be called “first draft* rather than *revision*. Somewhere between three and four in the morning, I finally got my heroes out of the low passage out into the air and light–battered, filthy, stinking, exhausted beyond exhaustion, half their original companions dead, and around them swirling those who had come a long way to save them…men and women they knew only by their clothes, and the expressions on their faces: awe for them, shame for themselves.
I’ve written a tiny bit more this morning because I had to get a few more details down. It’s all very rough, this bit, and will need a lot of revision but right now I’m too tired. I haven’t poured out 5000 words in a day in a long, long time (and since the day went way past midnight, which I just typoed as mightnight, I can’t really call it “in ONE day.”
I may add to this post later, but right now (besides typing more typos than correct words) this is just to tell you that there’s more work to do, more words to be written, LOTS of words to come out, and you’ll hear more about this when my brain isn’t this fried.
Brief nap taken, a bit of food & drink, now the next nap. Recovering but have also added another 1000 words. Ability to add a few is proof of recovery. One alpha reader with strong military bent saw last night’s message and sent a reply I read when I came up from the first nap. He says it’s good so…I’m not just blowing my own horn (much.)