One Chapter Left to Go

I wrote Chapter 39 of my novel yesterday, and so, if all goes according to plan (which it seldom does), I have just one chapter left to write, which I think I'll be able to do tomorrow. This is by far my longest book, which isn't saying a lot, as most of my books have been in the shortish range, but it should top out at around 270 manuscript pages in my big, old-fashioned Courier font, some 50,000 or 60,000 words.

Of all my books, this is the one I've been least sure about as I've been writing it, least confident of where the story was going, or if I liked where the story was going. But I kept on writing it, making good on my guiding principle for 2011 of living my life without hope, fear, or expectation. And my main attitude toward the success or failure of the book right now really seems to be disinterested curiosity: Hmm - will this be my best book ever? my worst book? somewhere in between?

If it's my best book ever, it will be partial vindication of my new stance toward life of living each day as it comes with no sense of where the story of Claudia as a whole is heading. If it's my worst book ever, well, then I may need to make some strategic corrections, at least where the writing portion of my life is concerned. But that's okay, too. Correcting my policy of groping through life, if need be, is part of the overall project of groping itself. This is my year of trial and error. Of wait and see. Of in the moment. Of page by page, day by day.

And tomorrow I should have one big part of the trial and the waiting accomplished. At least provisionally. At least for now.