Naturally we are delighted and have spent the weekend celebrating – albeit separately, a hundred miles apart.
Finishing a novel seems a momentous task. I've certainly never managed it before, and have half a dozen false starts in a box upstairs. And I wouldn't have completed this one either if I hadn't have been writing it with someone else. And with someone capable of putting their head down and pumping out 10000 words of narrative, whilst I dick about with a couple of pages of dialogue.
In reality though, finishing a first draft is barely over the start line when it comes to the process of getting it published. It's over two years ago that I finished the first draft of my Shropshire book and it's probably further away from being published now than it was then!
Next step, we're giving it to:
a) Our respective partners. (Eek)
b) A handful of people who said nice things about the first chapter. (Aah)
c) The person who licked my Shropshire book into shape, and who pulls no punches. (Ouch)
Then we'll see what we've got and have another bash. In the meantime my eyes turn to the Cheltenham Festival...the proper one...