I have managed to rough out the first three chapters of my historical novel. Finally. What I would normally write in three days took me three weeks. Yes, it hurts to (re)read this blog post as much as it hurt me to write it. Three chapters took me three weeks! I have come to the realization that writing this book will be slow. It took me only three weeks to come to the realization. Funny, that. To be honest, part of me still hasn’t grasped this slow pace, probably because I

I decided to take a week off of writing the historical novel to think and do some research. I wanted to get closer to the time period, and writing actually was detrimental as I was thinking too much about prose and structure instead of imagining the distant time and place. The pause worked well, as yesterday I was able to write seven hundred words, far below my novel writing average, but I feel far more grounded in the setting. The setting is the next step for me to consider

I may have underestimated what it means to write a novel about a historical figure. Or maybe it’s normal to spend more time worrying and researching rather than writing. Part of my concern is directly related to the source material. It’s not that I don’t trust what I’m reading—even when it’s sketchy, I’ve decided to trust it—but there are massive gaps in the man’s life which complicates the foundation of my story. I spend much of my time trying to imagine his upbringing so as