While I haven’t peeked at the word count in a bit, The Hushing Days is hovering, I imagine, near 80k.
Despite that number making me a little slack-jawed and a lot proud of myself, an alarm bell has begun to ring inside my ever-loving OCD head.
Yesterday, I wrote the first true, all parties naked and humping sex scene.
Don’t worry. The way I’m bouncing around the final edits this does NOT mean there’s no loving until 80k in. It’s just I haven’t had to bother with the nitty gritty until now. While there will be at least three more hot and heavy scenes in the novel, their combined wordage will be less than 5-7k.
For a writer whose previous published novels all held a smut to no smut ratio of about 1:1, this is alarming… and, dare I say, mainstream-ish?
Apparently I’m really doing this mainstream thing.
Apparently, I’m really putting myself out there to be slapped down by the big boys.
Apparently, I’m going to be needing a martini.
A freaking lot of martinis.