I finished.

MY. ROUGH.DRAFT.

Of the book.

That I wrote.

Ahead of schedule — 4 pages and about 5000 more words than I planned for the rough draft.

In the dark of the night, I got to type “THE END” for the first time in my life.

Man, it felt good.

Like great-good.

Like PUNCHING A MANTICORE IN THE FACE IN BETWEEN BLISTERING KEY-TAR SOLOS -GOOD.

Come on -- he freaking deserves it. WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR GOB, MANTICORE.

I know I’m a long way from being finished — I have a lot of editing, a lot of fleshing out, a lot of work still to do.

And let’s be honest — I’ll probably hate 45% of what I read, cutting and slashing with my seafoam green Sharpie.

And I know this is in no way impressive to the bulk of my WordPress pals — some of you with five or more novels under your name.

But this is my first time making it to base camp, before the final assault to the peak of BOOK MOUNTAIN.

So pass me some hot cocoa, and keep your snickering to a minimum.

"Where can I stash my keytar, y'all?"