I’m significantly past the halfway point in the rough draft, and I’ve trimmed most of the flab from it, which means I feel good about what’s left. It’s a more dense book then some of the recent ones, I think just because the nature of the story demands a certain compression of events; it wants to keep moving. And I am really packing on the hope-this-works stuff. By which I mean, “I’m going to throw this in as key plot point; I sure hope by the end I know why it’s there.”
In the past, I’ve pretty regularly done that, and it’s worked out well. Sometimes I’ve had to chop things that ended up not fitting, but more often than not throwing something in just because it felt cool worked out: my subconscious would come charging in on a white horse and say, “You need that thing! Thank god it’s there!” With this book I am, quite deliberately, piling a lot of them on top of each other; not since Taltos have I been this worried about whether the stuff I’m setting up will all come out.
I’m having fun. With any luck, the reader will too.
I picked up the bloody pile and made my way down the stairs, passing through my lab, where I took the opportunity to burn it all before continuing out onto the streets of Adrilankha, where waited death and, you know, stuff like that.