Even after I tuck in the remaining elements of the B story I’m having fun with, it won’t be much more than that.
Editing usually reduces word count. I’m verbose by nature. Tom calls me on it every time.
I know: if the story is told, the book is done. Adding filler is bad. Set proper expectations before people buy.
Robert Crais grew his stories. The Monkey’s Raincoat, the first Elvis Cole mystery, is 230 pages. The Promise, due out this year, is supposed to be 320 pages.
This is only my 4th mystery. Er, novel. Realizing that perhaps some of them aren’t mysteries at all, in the strictest genre sense. Thrillers, perhaps, though that feels a mite hyperbolic. Action? The 5-leaf genre clover isn’t giving me magic answers right now.
But anodyne is nearly 3 years old and it’s time for it to leave the nest. A few more hours’ work, a good review, and off for an appointment with Tom’s red pencil.