I finally wrapped up the current manuscript today.  I still have a little editing and polishing to do on it, and Livia may have some revisions to suggest before she's finished going through it, but from a creative standpoint, anyway, it's finished.  As I've probably mentioned before, I love finishing books.  I also love starting books.  It's all that stuff in between that wears me out.  This is my 169th novel (not counting a couple of trunk books that never sold).  When I started in this business, I figured 100 books would be a good total for a career.  I've been revising that goal upward for quite a while.  Now I think I'm looking at 300 or so, if I'm lucky and can keep getting contracts.  Sounds like a lot, but I know plenty of writers who have done more.  Some of them, a lot more.  I also know a guy who once said that no writer could ever write more than seven good books.  In that case, I was either washed up a long time ago . . . or I just haven't written my seven good ones yet.
Still reading the Ferrigno book.
Book Review: The Confession by John Grisham
4 hours ago

 
1 comment:
James, I'm in awe of you hitting 169. I doubt I'll ever be able to push my output into double digits and you are way into triples! Congrats!
Terrill Lankford
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