It has been a full two months since I officially began the first draft of NoHoper 2nd ed. If you remember, the last time I spoke a month ago I was one sentence into Chapter 2. Now? I’m more than a thousand words into Chapter 7, and the story is more than 32,000 words long. Of course, there’s a few things to keep in mind with this:
Firstly, a lot has changed in the plan between the 1st and 2nd edition. Gaps have been filled in the House of Night canon to apply strictly to the inner workings of the story. By the time I get to writing certain chapters, I’m rarely looking at the original copy; if I keep a line or two from the 1st ed., it’s either because they stood the test of time or because I think you’ll appreciate them.
Secondly, the story itself has been developed far more than it was in the original, partly to make it better and partly to incorporate the very real threat of a sequel. A couple of changes to that effect may be obvious from the first chapter, but some will hit later. Thanks to changes that were made to the plan (thanks in part to accepting that there are pieces of the HON canon that must remain), Chapter 4 in the plan (which was once one of the shortest) became the equally long chapters 4 and 5.
In other words, chapter 7 actually covers from the second scene in Chapter 6 and onward. It’s a little bit of a pain to have to relabel chapters to make the shift work, but I think it will better the story in the end; the last scene in the new Chapter 6, for example, was one I wanted to work on for a while. I doubt it will change much in the edit. The fact is, though, that I’m having to rein in a great temptation to feed you a few choice lines, even knowing full well that they may be suckered out by the next draft.
As a disabled writer, I feel like the burst in productivity I’ve had this Summer will not be around for much longer. I try not to be bitter about it; without my disability, I wouldn’t be me. I wouldn’t be the kind of writer I am now. As a dyspraxic in a creative field, I try to remember that it’s because of my out-of-box thinking that I am so valuable – even if I have become Irony Walking. I’m going to carry on being outspokenly disabled and creative: I knew of actor Daniel Radcliffe’s dyspraxia before I knew my own, but knowing a famous actor had the same disability helped me feel less broken and less alone. If the Boy Who Lived could be hardworking, successful and dyspraxic, why not me?
I hope that, if you’re dyspraxic and reading this, you know you can count on me to help you in the same way.
–Ruin Dun Burnit