I’ve written about my favorite villains before in this post from early August. I am a sucker for sympathetic villains — antagonists who are very bad for very good reasons. But to be honest, I’m feeling like my own bad guy right now.
For the past month, I have been hustling to finish the draft of a manuscript. A book I have been working on for over a year. I stopped progress on it to work on a passion project, but now I need this finished. I need it out of my head space. Off my plate — only temporarily since it has to go to my beta readers and then to my editor. Revisions have to be conquered at some point. But I wanted this draft done before I left for Bouchercon so I could enjoy the convention without this albatross around my neck.
And it may not happen. There is still so much left to do and only two days to do it.
Villains think they’re too smart to be defeated. I thought I was too smart to work without a proper outline. Villains plan ahead, but don’t foresee the hiccups. I rewrote the plot, but didn’t anticipate the logistics of a double murder and two mysteries in one book. I learned my lesson, but too late: I should’ve written out the crime scenes first.
It’s 11:21pm, and I am mentally drained and sweating buckets — it’s unseasonably humid in the Northeast. I am also stress-eating, so I’m bloated and queasy.
I screwed up, and now I have to pay. Maybe, I’m not the villain, but the protagonist, flawed, but trying to compensate. Yeah, that sounds better. Which means I’m at the all-is-lost moment, and there is no where to go but up.