... In terms of writing, that is. The week in general hasn't been too bad. There was naturally some stressing over the new job (because I'm me and that's what I do) but on the whole I think it's been okay.
My writing, on the other hand, has just been... ugh. There aren't even proper words to describe it. Just sounds. Ugh. Ick. Blurgh.
After my poor attempt at the Chapter 1 re-write for Hide and See last week, I started on Chapter 2. Then I realised how shite both this and Chapter 1 were and ground to a halt. During my Thursday lunch break I came to the conclusion that it really is too crap to salvage and resolved to start again.
And that's as far as I got.
I could now go off on a whinge about how it's all my new job's fault, changed routine, needing to get used to it, blah blah blah, but frankly that sounds dull even to me so anyone else unfortunate enough to be reading this would surely fall asleep and head-butt their keyboard. And that would probably hurt.
So instead, I'm probably going to leave off here because everything I write just sounds like utter bollocks. Seriously. I write a couple of paragraphs, realise how much of an idiot I sound, then delete it. And repeat. I'm going to be here forever if I keep doing that.
One point I will keep from previously-deleted ramblings though is to say that I might start writing book reviews. Methinks 'twould be a useful skill. So read/avoid like the plague as you like, should I ever get round to doing anything other than playing too many 'Words with Friends' games on facebook.
Sunday, 29 January 2012
Saturday, 21 January 2012
New job, but bad writing
My writing hasn't gone well this week. What a depressing sentence to begin with. Alas, it is true.
I fully intended to make a good start with the Hide and See re-write. The first fourteen chapters really need work and I stand by my decision of last week to more or less completely re-do them. At the time, this seemed like quite an exciting prospect. After almost a month of doing barely any extensive writing during my Fall editing, I thought it would be great to finally get my teeth into producing something new.
What I found, however, was that the part of my brain which produces sentences I'm happy with, has gone walkies. It has up and disappeared, and didn't even have the courtesy to write me a note to let me know when it would be back. And that's just plain rude.
This week I managed to construct a plan for these new fourteen chapters but the actual writing came at a much slower pace. It took three days, and much growling at my computer, for me to do the first chapter, and a page of that I lifted straight from the previous draft. And bearing in mind how short my chapters are (around 2k) I think it's pretty poor.
Add to all this the fact that I don't even like what I did manage to write, and you have a very frustrated dinosaur. I feel betrayed by my own brain. I also don't know how much time/energy/inclination/etc I'm going to have to write as of next week because (good news!) I've finally managed to get a job! Yay!
This is the reason, I'm assuming, for my pathetic lack of writing-progress this week because much of my time has been sorting things out for said new job (interview, filling out forms, being absolutely terrified and so on). I'm also still volunteering at a museum library in Lyndhurst and hope to start volunteering for the National Trust within the next couple of weeks too.
All of this makes me worry that I won't have much time to write - which then leads to me being too stressed to write when I actually have the time to. Yep, welcome to my brain, Ladies and Gentlemen. I never said it made any sense.
I just have to keep reminding myself that I managed to write the first draft of Fall while I had my full-time job at Cengage. If I could do it then, I'm sure I can do it now. In fact I have to, or else I'll turn into a grumpy bugger. Or more of one than I already am.
But right now I'm going to finish off watching last week's episode of Antiques Roadshow, because that is how cool I am. Oh yeah.
I fully intended to make a good start with the Hide and See re-write. The first fourteen chapters really need work and I stand by my decision of last week to more or less completely re-do them. At the time, this seemed like quite an exciting prospect. After almost a month of doing barely any extensive writing during my Fall editing, I thought it would be great to finally get my teeth into producing something new.
What I found, however, was that the part of my brain which produces sentences I'm happy with, has gone walkies. It has up and disappeared, and didn't even have the courtesy to write me a note to let me know when it would be back. And that's just plain rude.
This week I managed to construct a plan for these new fourteen chapters but the actual writing came at a much slower pace. It took three days, and much growling at my computer, for me to do the first chapter, and a page of that I lifted straight from the previous draft. And bearing in mind how short my chapters are (around 2k) I think it's pretty poor.
Add to all this the fact that I don't even like what I did manage to write, and you have a very frustrated dinosaur. I feel betrayed by my own brain. I also don't know how much time/energy/inclination/etc I'm going to have to write as of next week because (good news!) I've finally managed to get a job! Yay!
This is the reason, I'm assuming, for my pathetic lack of writing-progress this week because much of my time has been sorting things out for said new job (interview, filling out forms, being absolutely terrified and so on). I'm also still volunteering at a museum library in Lyndhurst and hope to start volunteering for the National Trust within the next couple of weeks too.
All of this makes me worry that I won't have much time to write - which then leads to me being too stressed to write when I actually have the time to. Yep, welcome to my brain, Ladies and Gentlemen. I never said it made any sense.
I just have to keep reminding myself that I managed to write the first draft of Fall while I had my full-time job at Cengage. If I could do it then, I'm sure I can do it now. In fact I have to, or else I'll turn into a grumpy bugger. Or more of one than I already am.
But right now I'm going to finish off watching last week's episode of Antiques Roadshow, because that is how cool I am. Oh yeah.
Saturday, 14 January 2012
Brain Mush
I have completed the latest draft of Fall. Unfortunately, my brain has collapsed into such a state of barely-mush at the moment that I can't figure out whether or not I'm actually happy with it. I'd like to say that am I, but my main lasting impression of the thing was my fairly frequent desire to throw my computer out the window when the too-long chapters wouldn't split up nicely into more manageable chunks.
Obviously that's my fault, not the computer's (yes, I did just defend a piece of technology) but when you need to cut down a chapter and you're smack bang in the middle of a never-ending conversation, you're likely to blame the nearest inanimate object to hurl abuse at. Or at least, that's what I do.
So instead of contemplating Fall, I have decided to turn my frazzled brain to Hide and See, all of twelve minutes after sending Fall off to one of my very kind volunteer readers. This seems like a very bad move but I never was a big fan of logic. If I was, I'd have chosen a more sensible aspiration in life - like becoming an accountant. Or an engineer. Or a thousand other things which actually generate an income.
Anyway, I came to the conclusion that I need to re-write the first fourteen chapters of Hide and See. Or rather I re-affirmed my decision to do this. The idea has been floating around in the murky recesses of my mind for a few weeks now so can't be blamed entirely on post-Fall brain mush.
As much as I'm able to read through these first fourteen chapters and think 'yeah, they're okay', I don't want them to be 'okay'. I want them to be good. Well, really, I want them to be great but I think that's being a tad unrealistic. And as I'm generally pretty shite at editing, I don't think there's any way that I can edit the existing chapters into better shape.
I don't want to disregard the chapters completed, though. There will probably be a few bits that I'll want to keep. My mission, therefore, should I chose to accept it, will be to find that all-illusive happy medium of keeping some stuff and chucking other bits away. A lofty ambition indeed.
But I definitely need to do something. I'm still haunted by a lecturer's comment that it felt like Bridget Jones. Not that there's anything especially wrong with Miss Jones, but it really wasn't what I was going for. In fact, I have no idea how I managed to do it. Accidental chick lit.
Okay, time to stop waffling. We're off out for a family meal in less than an hour and I'm still sat here in my over-big hoody and falling-apart slippers. Stylish.
Obviously that's my fault, not the computer's (yes, I did just defend a piece of technology) but when you need to cut down a chapter and you're smack bang in the middle of a never-ending conversation, you're likely to blame the nearest inanimate object to hurl abuse at. Or at least, that's what I do.
So instead of contemplating Fall, I have decided to turn my frazzled brain to Hide and See, all of twelve minutes after sending Fall off to one of my very kind volunteer readers. This seems like a very bad move but I never was a big fan of logic. If I was, I'd have chosen a more sensible aspiration in life - like becoming an accountant. Or an engineer. Or a thousand other things which actually generate an income.
Anyway, I came to the conclusion that I need to re-write the first fourteen chapters of Hide and See. Or rather I re-affirmed my decision to do this. The idea has been floating around in the murky recesses of my mind for a few weeks now so can't be blamed entirely on post-Fall brain mush.
As much as I'm able to read through these first fourteen chapters and think 'yeah, they're okay', I don't want them to be 'okay'. I want them to be good. Well, really, I want them to be great but I think that's being a tad unrealistic. And as I'm generally pretty shite at editing, I don't think there's any way that I can edit the existing chapters into better shape.
I don't want to disregard the chapters completed, though. There will probably be a few bits that I'll want to keep. My mission, therefore, should I chose to accept it, will be to find that all-illusive happy medium of keeping some stuff and chucking other bits away. A lofty ambition indeed.
But I definitely need to do something. I'm still haunted by a lecturer's comment that it felt like Bridget Jones. Not that there's anything especially wrong with Miss Jones, but it really wasn't what I was going for. In fact, I have no idea how I managed to do it. Accidental chick lit.
Okay, time to stop waffling. We're off out for a family meal in less than an hour and I'm still sat here in my over-big hoody and falling-apart slippers. Stylish.
Friday, 6 January 2012
Why hello there 2012!
So apparently, the world's going to end this year. But it probably (according to the people who go by the Mayan calendars) won't be until December so we've still got a few months before the world goes kaput. And the new Batman film comes out in July so at least I'll be able to see that before we all die in a horrific fiery inferno, or however else we're supposed to go.
As you can probably tell, I don't believe in all this end-of-the-world stuff. Fortunately, if I'm wrong there won't be anyone around to say 'I told you so'. Win win.
This year I am therefore dedicating not to the apocalypse, but to my ambition of finally getting something done. This 'something' being aimed specifically at writing - or rather the publishing end of things.
Obviously, I can't dictate whether or not anyone wants to publish my drivel but I am at least going to do my utmost to get people to at least consider it. So I will be annoying the book industry this year by sending out my nonsense to various literary agencies and/or publishers, ready to weep hysterically when they reject me.
This, I feel, is a good ambition/New Year's Resolution and much more likely to happen than my half-arsed resolution of getting more of a social life. I am, as discussed previously, a hermit. Besides, being social is expensive and for the literary-agent-begging-thing, I would probably only be paying for stamps. And maybe some more envelopes because I think I've used all mine up from all the please-give-me-a-job-I'm-begging-you letters.
So, with this ambition/resolution in mind, I have been working away on Fall, with the aim to making it readable. I'm over half-way through now - and in saying it like that, it makes me worried that I'm rushing it. Or, as mentioned in my last ramble, that I'm too attached to it to see the problems.
But help has appeared in the form of several lovely people offering to read it through once I'm done with this edit. Hopefully they'll be able to spot the glaring errors and plot holes where I can't. Because I really really want to write something that's good.
As you can probably tell, I don't believe in all this end-of-the-world stuff. Fortunately, if I'm wrong there won't be anyone around to say 'I told you so'. Win win.
This year I am therefore dedicating not to the apocalypse, but to my ambition of finally getting something done. This 'something' being aimed specifically at writing - or rather the publishing end of things.
Obviously, I can't dictate whether or not anyone wants to publish my drivel but I am at least going to do my utmost to get people to at least consider it. So I will be annoying the book industry this year by sending out my nonsense to various literary agencies and/or publishers, ready to weep hysterically when they reject me.
This, I feel, is a good ambition/New Year's Resolution and much more likely to happen than my half-arsed resolution of getting more of a social life. I am, as discussed previously, a hermit. Besides, being social is expensive and for the literary-agent-begging-thing, I would probably only be paying for stamps. And maybe some more envelopes because I think I've used all mine up from all the please-give-me-a-job-I'm-begging-you letters.
So, with this ambition/resolution in mind, I have been working away on Fall, with the aim to making it readable. I'm over half-way through now - and in saying it like that, it makes me worried that I'm rushing it. Or, as mentioned in my last ramble, that I'm too attached to it to see the problems.
But help has appeared in the form of several lovely people offering to read it through once I'm done with this edit. Hopefully they'll be able to spot the glaring errors and plot holes where I can't. Because I really really want to write something that's good.
Friday, 30 December 2011
Last post of 2011
The end of the year approaches! I suppose this is the point where I should ponder on what has happened through 2011 and assess my decisions. What was good, what was bad, that sort of thing. But frankly, my dears, I can't be arsed.
Instead, you're in for the same sort of rambling waffle that you've got every other week of the year. Well since February, obviously, as that was when this blog burst spectacularly into existence. And it is rather astonishing that I've even managed to keep it going that long. Fingers-crossed for my carrying on so in 2012!
I'm hoping that I'll be able to continue this blog in much the same way that I've written it this year. The main purpose - for all that I wander off in merry little tangents - is to discuss my writing. As I do not intend to stop writing next year, I fully intend to have plenty to splurge onto the internets next year too.
One of my New Year's Resolutions (yeah, I have at least three at the moment, though right now I can only remember two of them...) is to get one of my novels edited and sent off to agents, ready to be rejected and for me to sob bitterly over my failed little darlings.
With this lofty aim in mind, I have just started editing the novel I wrote before doing my MA. It doesn't have a firm title yet. In my head I think I call it 'Fall' but my marvellous friend Lottums (the first to read it) still refers to it by its tentative first title 'Live Free Die Fighting'. I think I'll refer to it as 'Fall' on this here blog simply because it's shorter and I'm lazy.
So Fall started life in a third-year module for my BA. I submitted the first chapter for one of the assignments, got a mark I was pleased with (shock, I know, but it does happen) giving me enough motivation to continue. I wrote it while working full-time, finishing just before starting the MA in September 2010. I wanted to get it done by the MA because I had a vague notion of using my MA time to edit it. Then I realised that was a stupid thing to think because I would need to be writing stuff for my assignments rather than something that was already written. My rewriting process rarely involves major changes so I couldn't in good conscience say that I'd done the work for the MA.
Now, with the first draft of Hide and See done and stewing away nicely in the background, and my brother's latest fantasy instalment given over on Christmas Day, I'm now finally back to Fall. I'm editing it chapter by chapter, finding bits I like and bits I don't. Generally I think I'm still quite pleased with it, which has made me worried. Does this mean I'm not able to see the flaws because I'm too attached to it? Quite possibly.
Once edited, I will therefore be flinging it left, right and centre in the hopes that any lovely people might have time to give it a read. There are certain elements to this story which are quite personal and while I can feel moved reading them back, I don't know whether the emotion translates to the page. It makes me appreciate just how valuable those workshopping sessions during the MA were, and the feedback I've gained from various lovely people for other works. So ta muchly everyone!
There are no wild parties in store for me tomorrow. I'm getting much too old for those kinds of shenanigans. Well, I probably always was. I think I've always been a little old lady really. So tomorrow, rather than planning for a night of drunkenness, I will be reading (Kelley Armstrong's Bitten), rewriting, staring lovingly at my new bookshelf that my father put up for me today and drinking copious amounts of tea. Oh, and dodging calls from sales companies who keep trying to recruit me. I don't trust anyone who tries to give me a job that I haven't applied for. Or whose only contact number is for a mobile phone. Anyone got any tips for how to get them to leave me alone? Because I cannot think of anyone less suited to a role in sales than me.
"Would you like to buy this? No? Oh, okay, sorry to bother you. You're probably right, it is a bit shite."
All of this said in a tentative near-whisper, while straining to hear what they're saying on the other end. Because I'm a deaf bint too. Nodding and smiling doesn't work quite so well over the phone.
Right, enough of the rambling tangents. Chapter Five is calling for an edit and the Dark Knight movie soundtrack is paused and waiting. And despite the fact that two dozen books are now on a shelf rather than the floor, my room really still needs tidying.
Toodle-pip and have a Happy New Year!
Instead, you're in for the same sort of rambling waffle that you've got every other week of the year. Well since February, obviously, as that was when this blog burst spectacularly into existence. And it is rather astonishing that I've even managed to keep it going that long. Fingers-crossed for my carrying on so in 2012!
I'm hoping that I'll be able to continue this blog in much the same way that I've written it this year. The main purpose - for all that I wander off in merry little tangents - is to discuss my writing. As I do not intend to stop writing next year, I fully intend to have plenty to splurge onto the internets next year too.
One of my New Year's Resolutions (yeah, I have at least three at the moment, though right now I can only remember two of them...) is to get one of my novels edited and sent off to agents, ready to be rejected and for me to sob bitterly over my failed little darlings.
With this lofty aim in mind, I have just started editing the novel I wrote before doing my MA. It doesn't have a firm title yet. In my head I think I call it 'Fall' but my marvellous friend Lottums (the first to read it) still refers to it by its tentative first title 'Live Free Die Fighting'. I think I'll refer to it as 'Fall' on this here blog simply because it's shorter and I'm lazy.
So Fall started life in a third-year module for my BA. I submitted the first chapter for one of the assignments, got a mark I was pleased with (shock, I know, but it does happen) giving me enough motivation to continue. I wrote it while working full-time, finishing just before starting the MA in September 2010. I wanted to get it done by the MA because I had a vague notion of using my MA time to edit it. Then I realised that was a stupid thing to think because I would need to be writing stuff for my assignments rather than something that was already written. My rewriting process rarely involves major changes so I couldn't in good conscience say that I'd done the work for the MA.
Now, with the first draft of Hide and See done and stewing away nicely in the background, and my brother's latest fantasy instalment given over on Christmas Day, I'm now finally back to Fall. I'm editing it chapter by chapter, finding bits I like and bits I don't. Generally I think I'm still quite pleased with it, which has made me worried. Does this mean I'm not able to see the flaws because I'm too attached to it? Quite possibly.
Once edited, I will therefore be flinging it left, right and centre in the hopes that any lovely people might have time to give it a read. There are certain elements to this story which are quite personal and while I can feel moved reading them back, I don't know whether the emotion translates to the page. It makes me appreciate just how valuable those workshopping sessions during the MA were, and the feedback I've gained from various lovely people for other works. So ta muchly everyone!
There are no wild parties in store for me tomorrow. I'm getting much too old for those kinds of shenanigans. Well, I probably always was. I think I've always been a little old lady really. So tomorrow, rather than planning for a night of drunkenness, I will be reading (Kelley Armstrong's Bitten), rewriting, staring lovingly at my new bookshelf that my father put up for me today and drinking copious amounts of tea. Oh, and dodging calls from sales companies who keep trying to recruit me. I don't trust anyone who tries to give me a job that I haven't applied for. Or whose only contact number is for a mobile phone. Anyone got any tips for how to get them to leave me alone? Because I cannot think of anyone less suited to a role in sales than me.
"Would you like to buy this? No? Oh, okay, sorry to bother you. You're probably right, it is a bit shite."
All of this said in a tentative near-whisper, while straining to hear what they're saying on the other end. Because I'm a deaf bint too. Nodding and smiling doesn't work quite so well over the phone.
Right, enough of the rambling tangents. Chapter Five is calling for an edit and the Dark Knight movie soundtrack is paused and waiting. And despite the fact that two dozen books are now on a shelf rather than the floor, my room really still needs tidying.
Toodle-pip and have a Happy New Year!
Thursday, 22 December 2011
Concentrate... Don't get distracted by the pretty lights...
Three days to go. 'Til Christmas? Well, yes but also to the deadline that Christmas creates.
I have until Christmas Eve night to finish this latest part of the secondary-world fantasy trilogy, print it out, wrap it up and pop it under the Christmas tree.
I suppose it's going okay. Some days are better than others. Sunday and Monday, for example, were pretty darn crap, resulting in me writing a note to myself on Monday night which simply read: 'WRITING!! F'ING DO IT!' Seriously.
The note seemed to do the trick for Tuesday, though, as I managed to churn out over three thousand words. Wednesday let to another thousand or so. Today... zilch. But the day is yet young (or rather the evening hasn't properly arrived despite the darkness) and I'm sure I'll manage to get something done.
So for all that my writing has been more irregular than I'd hoped, I am at least progressing. Again - as ever - whether it actually makes any kind of coherent sense is an entirely different matter.
I think part of my problem with that two-day block lay in the fact that what I needed to write was something I have been planning for years (so no pressure then) and was a greater level of fantasy than I've ever written before. I'm not even sure if that makes sense. See how much it has turned my brain to mush?
And I still have a few Christmas presents to wrap - which I will probably do tonight while watching Antiques Roadshow. Yeah, I'm cool. And if I manage that (the wrapping, not the antiques-show-watching) I might even be able to walk around my oh-so-cluttered room without doing some bizarre impression of those action-film-folks who are trying to pass through the laser-maze without triggering an alarm.
Hopefully I won't have to resort to writing angry notes to myself to get it done.
I have until Christmas Eve night to finish this latest part of the secondary-world fantasy trilogy, print it out, wrap it up and pop it under the Christmas tree.
I suppose it's going okay. Some days are better than others. Sunday and Monday, for example, were pretty darn crap, resulting in me writing a note to myself on Monday night which simply read: 'WRITING!! F'ING DO IT!' Seriously.
The note seemed to do the trick for Tuesday, though, as I managed to churn out over three thousand words. Wednesday let to another thousand or so. Today... zilch. But the day is yet young (or rather the evening hasn't properly arrived despite the darkness) and I'm sure I'll manage to get something done.
So for all that my writing has been more irregular than I'd hoped, I am at least progressing. Again - as ever - whether it actually makes any kind of coherent sense is an entirely different matter.
I think part of my problem with that two-day block lay in the fact that what I needed to write was something I have been planning for years (so no pressure then) and was a greater level of fantasy than I've ever written before. I'm not even sure if that makes sense. See how much it has turned my brain to mush?
And I still have a few Christmas presents to wrap - which I will probably do tonight while watching Antiques Roadshow. Yeah, I'm cool. And if I manage that (the wrapping, not the antiques-show-watching) I might even be able to walk around my oh-so-cluttered room without doing some bizarre impression of those action-film-folks who are trying to pass through the laser-maze without triggering an alarm.
Hopefully I won't have to resort to writing angry notes to myself to get it done.
Wednesday, 14 December 2011
First Draft Complete!
I have finished the first draft of Hide and See! Yipee! *Confetti*
On the whole, I think I'm pretty pleased with it. Of course I haven't read it all the way through yet so that might well change as soon as I do. But I'm letting it stew. If I go back and read it now I'll read what I wanted to have written, not what I actually have.
And so now I've moved on to writing the latest chunk of the secondary-world fantasy novel (or trilogy of novels) which I began about seven years ago. I started it on my older brother's request and have given him sections of it for special occasions ever since - birthdays, Christmas, that sort of thing. I normally gave him some when he went to the US and came home again, as he did every summer for several years. This year was the first that he didn't go so there have been rather fewer chapters than normal.
The last time I wrote some of this novel was in March for his birthday - and I left it on quite a bit of a cliffhanger. Major character death. Oops. And I really hadn't intended to leave it so long but the whole Hide and See thing happened and here I am, nine months later, and I need to dive right back into the story again.
I re-read the last section on Monday night, ready to use my train journey up to Bath on Tuesday to plot out what I was going to write. The original plan I wrote several years ago has morphed a fair bit since then so I tend to re-think a lot, although the major events and the ending have pretty much stayed the same.
The planning flowed quite naturally, I am pleased to say, and I managed to plot not only the section I'm going to write but also the rest of the novel (which, being the third, would complete the first draft of the trilogy). I don't know when I'll actually get round to writing all this but planning it out in my weird little flow-charts did make it seem a little more manageable. Or maybe I've just got into a finishing-first-draft mood lately.
I started writing the actual section this afternoon. I've only got about 700 words in but it's better than nothing. The sections I write tend to be around 6-7k and I should imagine (fingers crossed) that I'll be able to get it done by Christmas Eve. This is providing that Real Life doesn't get in the way.
Because, alas, it looks like that might be a possibility.
I have a job interview tomorrow. Now, this is the point where I should be going 'YAY! A chance at employment! At last!' Unfortunately, I am a neurotic head-case and thus have been a churning mess of anxiety since the recruitment agency phoned this afternoon. I have only had one proper interview in my life before and I didn't even apply for that job. I wasn't really that committed to getting it. I figured it'd be good experience and just went along for the ride.
This time, it feels like there's rather more at stake. I've been out of uni and among the (growing) unemployed masses for several months now. I really should be getting a job and not being a bum. And yet the idea of the interview and the possibility of a subsequent first day at work fill me with something rather close to terror.
And I'm worried that I won't have as much time to write. Which makes me grumpy.
So in summary: I am stressed at the idea of the interview, grumpy at the thought of not writing, and annoyed at myself for not being happy about finally getting a job interview. Good times all round.
And there's an opportunity to apply for an internship (paid or unpaid, I don't yet know) at the Jane Austen House Museum coming up early next year which, let's face it, pretty much sounds like my idea of bliss. But if I have to be a grown-up-type-person I probably won't be able to do that. Seriously: Jane Austen, all day. In her house. Jane Austen. That author who I tend to randomly drop into all other subject matters or go crazy-ranty if someone calls her work chick-lit. Yeah: I want.
Okay, I think that's me done whinging for now. Let me check... yep, I'm done. Blogs are like free therapy.
To conclude with an upside, did I mention that I'd finished the first draft of Hide and See this week? Here's me, ending on a 'Whoop whoop'!
On the whole, I think I'm pretty pleased with it. Of course I haven't read it all the way through yet so that might well change as soon as I do. But I'm letting it stew. If I go back and read it now I'll read what I wanted to have written, not what I actually have.
And so now I've moved on to writing the latest chunk of the secondary-world fantasy novel (or trilogy of novels) which I began about seven years ago. I started it on my older brother's request and have given him sections of it for special occasions ever since - birthdays, Christmas, that sort of thing. I normally gave him some when he went to the US and came home again, as he did every summer for several years. This year was the first that he didn't go so there have been rather fewer chapters than normal.
The last time I wrote some of this novel was in March for his birthday - and I left it on quite a bit of a cliffhanger. Major character death. Oops. And I really hadn't intended to leave it so long but the whole Hide and See thing happened and here I am, nine months later, and I need to dive right back into the story again.
I re-read the last section on Monday night, ready to use my train journey up to Bath on Tuesday to plot out what I was going to write. The original plan I wrote several years ago has morphed a fair bit since then so I tend to re-think a lot, although the major events and the ending have pretty much stayed the same.
The planning flowed quite naturally, I am pleased to say, and I managed to plot not only the section I'm going to write but also the rest of the novel (which, being the third, would complete the first draft of the trilogy). I don't know when I'll actually get round to writing all this but planning it out in my weird little flow-charts did make it seem a little more manageable. Or maybe I've just got into a finishing-first-draft mood lately.
I started writing the actual section this afternoon. I've only got about 700 words in but it's better than nothing. The sections I write tend to be around 6-7k and I should imagine (fingers crossed) that I'll be able to get it done by Christmas Eve. This is providing that Real Life doesn't get in the way.
Because, alas, it looks like that might be a possibility.
I have a job interview tomorrow. Now, this is the point where I should be going 'YAY! A chance at employment! At last!' Unfortunately, I am a neurotic head-case and thus have been a churning mess of anxiety since the recruitment agency phoned this afternoon. I have only had one proper interview in my life before and I didn't even apply for that job. I wasn't really that committed to getting it. I figured it'd be good experience and just went along for the ride.
This time, it feels like there's rather more at stake. I've been out of uni and among the (growing) unemployed masses for several months now. I really should be getting a job and not being a bum. And yet the idea of the interview and the possibility of a subsequent first day at work fill me with something rather close to terror.
And I'm worried that I won't have as much time to write. Which makes me grumpy.
So in summary: I am stressed at the idea of the interview, grumpy at the thought of not writing, and annoyed at myself for not being happy about finally getting a job interview. Good times all round.
And there's an opportunity to apply for an internship (paid or unpaid, I don't yet know) at the Jane Austen House Museum coming up early next year which, let's face it, pretty much sounds like my idea of bliss. But if I have to be a grown-up-type-person I probably won't be able to do that. Seriously: Jane Austen, all day. In her house. Jane Austen. That author who I tend to randomly drop into all other subject matters or go crazy-ranty if someone calls her work chick-lit. Yeah: I want.
Okay, I think that's me done whinging for now. Let me check... yep, I'm done. Blogs are like free therapy.
To conclude with an upside, did I mention that I'd finished the first draft of Hide and See this week? Here's me, ending on a 'Whoop whoop'!
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