A long time ago I wrote a novel - my first, my only. Slipwater. 81,000 words. A police thriller with a little bit of sci-fi thrown in just to make things more difficult for me. That was about twelve years ago. Since then, over the years, there have been a couple of attempts - one serious - to redraft it. As a result I have about 45,000 words of better stuff.
I've trawled through the loft and been looking it over the last couple of days and decided that now is the time to go back to it. To be honest, there was never a right time to leave it. I just got sidetracked by other projects... for about a decade.
I'm still going to pursue short stories, but my off-the-top-of-my-head goal is to have this second draft of the novel down (and I know the 45,000 words I've got will have to be tooth-combed again) by my birthday.
That's early May for you folks who don't send me cards.