I used to write after work. I’d get home from whatever office or shop I was working in, have something to eat and then try to write for an hour or two. It worked to an extent, but the finished result always felt sluggish. It suffered from a lack of energy as plot and characters became handy ciphers allowing me to moan about my day. Back then, I was very much one of those people who spent a lot of time talking about writing, instead of actually writing. Or, at least, writing happily.
Read MoreSit down. The show’s about to start.
What’s that? How am I?
We probably don’t have time for that. I’m still rewriting the new novel. Taking it apart. Clearing out the problems and the pretentious ideas. Rebuilding it into something that will hopefully attract more readers and sell better.
I mean, you’ve got to get your kicks somewhere, right?
Last week the rewrite behaved itself. Motivation was up. Momentum was on my side. Things went well. This week, almost predictably, not so much. The rewrite has turned on me. Causing the Unwelcome Catholic in my head to say that’s what I get for feeling good about myself. It’s been a week of steeper slopes and stupid problems.
So long motivation and momentum. Hello, frustration, my old friend.
There’s about to be a change on The Blank Page. Don’t worry, it’s nothing major. I’m not about to start blogging only in Wingdings or turn this whole thing into a either raging diatribe on why I should run the world or why old Thomas the Tank Engine will always be superior to its modern incarnation. Although, for the record, I think I’d make a pretty good world leader. But don’t we all, right?
Read MoreThere really is no surface quite as slippery as the blank page. Which is not great when you consider we’re completely surrounded by them at this time of year. There are blank calendars wherever we look, showing all those unwritten days we’re going to fill, whether we like it or not. I hate any new calendar or diary for that. They always seem to offer undiscovered territory. Yours to claim. They’re a map of potential, in that moment you open them, at least. Of course, once you finally start using them, all you really mark down are trips to the dentist and occasional family gatherings.
Read MoreExpectation is a tricky thing. We generate it ourselves, but we don’t have a lot of control over it. We merely light the fuse. Our subconscious does the rest. It fans the flames and spreads the fire. It makes us crave what lies ahead. Before we know it, we’ve taken something we’re interested in and turned it into something so much bigger. Something that feels bizarrely pivotal to our happiness. Sadly, this process doesn’t always work out well for us or the thing we’re waiting for.
Read MoreMy apologies, it’s going to be a fast big of blogging this week. Which is annoying, as there’s a really a lot I should be talking about. I could talk about going to my first night of live readings on Monday and the wonderfully odd index of authors I met there. Let alone something strange I picked up about the mechanics of live storytelling and recital. I could talk about the fact I’ve been off work all week and I’ve spent a lot of that time wrestling with final rewrite of my second novel. Which, for the record, can either be going really well or really badly depending on which way the wind’s blowing.
Read MoreWell, this is troubling. I sat down with plenty of ideas for the weekly blog, but none of them are working. Every single one of them died after a paragraph or two in. Some were too lightweight to be worth your time. Others were just too dark and brooding to be read by anyone outside my own head. One in particular was too angry to live.
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