Another month has passed and another chapter has been produced. That’s eleven over with and so I’m staring at the last two chapters now. I’ve 91,000 words in the bag and it’s a strange feeling. The end is probably a couple of months away and, although I’m bursting to finish my first novel, I’m also a little sad to bring it to a close. I’ve nursed the development of this for thirteen months now and, in knowing the ending without having written it yet, it’s an odd moment and one I’d not expected. I imagine many who write their first work feel this way so I’m going to have to accept that it’s probably a very normal part of the whole process. Roll on chapter 12!