Sort of. First draft anyway. I know there are changes and additions I need to make to it but the base is there now on which I can work.
73, 922 words. Are they any good? Who knows? I thought novel 1 was funny and entertaining but not a single agent agreed with me. This novel is gloomy and painful, much more authentically 'my voice', but would anyone want to read it? Husband asked me that before asking if I'd want to read it. 'Good heavens, no! But I'm obviously no judge of a good book.'
Now I will start on the rejection trail otherwise known as submitting to agents. With Novel 1 I was convinced they would be fighting over each other to buy the rights and I'd already cast Alan Rickman as the hero in the film. Umpteen disappointments later I promise myself I will begin this time with no hope - although I know that is impossible. I will continue to dream and imagine and hope for publication.
I feel depressed at the thought of what I am letting myself in for. That's no good: I have completed a novel; I should be celebrating. Maybe tomorrow I will feel more like it.