Writing on Wednesday: Back to work

Since Monday I've been back at work. But I've discovered that this isn't such a negative thing, as the more I have to do, the more I get done. Hence, during the holidays, there were whole days where I did no writing. Whereas now, well, I'll get to now.

On Sunday, in preparation for focusing on the revision I decided to tidy up my pinboard.

I found some postcards in my creative box and put them up. That one on the top says: Nobody cares about the adults, write from Ella, Morgane or Leo's point of view. And yes, that is a picture of the Annunciation there. It's a bit of a private joke between me, myself and I.

So the next bit of prep was to pack the old handbag. At the moment there is the light green notebook which has masses of notes about A Twist in the Tail. When that became almost full I decided to shove in the dark green notebook. Just before Christmas I got a new idea to sort out Sands of Time or whatever it's called in it's current form, so a chapter and some ideas went into that notebook. On Sunday night I had this amazing idea for sorting out The Shaelan Sensors. I spent a whole summer writing it, my critique group spent a lot of time on it, and apparently dystopian YA is super cool at the moment, so I think it needs to be sorted. So, to scribble that idea down I decided that I needed to peel off the plastic wrap on another notebook. The thing is that I was in a bit of rush on Monday morning, the notebooks come in pairs , so I shoved both of them in there. On the metro I wrote the idea down and then Alex started talking to me. Alex has made an apparition on this blog before, but I can't find where. He's been talking to me for years. Here I am one of these people who plots, plots, plots, but Alex is always there. He's been there since I was... what twenty? Yep, I think. He was not a nice guy when he first came out, but that was twenty years ago and since then he's come in all kinds of different forms. He even tried to be a girl called Callie for a while, but he tends to go back to being Alex after a while. And now a story has come, I think. I can still call it The Trelawney Funerals and he can still be a dick, but a dick with a heart of gold. I have no idea when I will have time to write all these things, but the bus ride to work at the moment is a hell of a ride.

Not such a bad thing after all

It turns out the break from writing wasn't such a bad thing after all. Every other time I've had a break of this length of time I've just completely lost the story or the characters have also run away for an extended holiday and never come back, but not this time.

In the interim I did flick through the notebook and decide that I needed to develop certain characters a bit more and that the beginning was kind of weak. So when I finally got back to it that's where I started; at the beginning with a wee bit of character development.

Next I was planning on carrying on where I had last stopped writing, but to do that I had to re-read the six chapters I had already written. My conclusions after this read through was: OH MY GOD! How confusing is this? What the hell is going on? So that's good, right, because if I had just happily kept on writing it would have just kept on getting more confusing.

There was a wee moment there on Sunday night as I was making a cheese sandwich when I had that 30,000 word 'Oh my this is crap' feeling, but that quickly passed as I came up with a completely alternative plot. As I brushed my teeth I realised that the alternative plot line would mean that I needed a new notebook and to start all over again. As the tooth paste dripped from my aghast mouth a completely different beginning popped into my head and I quickly finished brushing so that I could go and scribble it down.

So yesterday after almost paying the entire Tax bill for my arrondissement (I got a bit carried away with filling in figures in boxes and it was only after I was estimated a 14,000€ tax bill that I went back and realised I was claiming I had a double income!) I wrote the new beginning. It's something like the 7th beginning, the 1st one now being somewhere far past the middle! Anyway, the important thing is it cuts to the chase and means that I've been able to cut (and will be able to cut) a lot of unnecessary telling later on and eh... I like it.

The other thing I realised over this weekend is that research is fun, but then you don't have to put it ALL in. I had more or less realised that before when I had stopped myself writing a long description about a sledge, but I definitely realised it this weekend as I mercilessly chopped paragraphs here and there.

So I'm now up to 22,000 words ish although that will probably go down rather than up as I edit the first bit to fit in with the new beginning.

Not a moan (really)

This post is not going to be a moan. I started moaning on Thursday and it just grew and grew until it became a Woolly Mammoth that threatened to stamp on me. And then I went to Castorama and calm was restored momentarily as I wandered down the small hand tools aisle more times than was strictly necessary. In keeping with Saturday being eye-candy day, I may make this particular aisle a regular part of my Saturday routine.

So I decided not to moan, which is a bit difficult because all these things happened this week:

• I had a headache all week
• My back was threatening to join in with the headache
• My idea of buying a wreck in Brittany and rebuilding it was nixed by the MEN (and Jane, who jumped up and down all over my poor trampled idea the next day just in case I was thinking of reviving it!) (But after the trip to Casto yesterday I did momentarily consider it again... ‘All those Saturdays in the power tools aisle’ I thought then realised ‘All those Saturdays not writing’ and forgot it again)
• I’ve already neglected my poor adopted lion by not naming or writing it a poem, but I’m working on it.
• Some of my colleagues really let me down this week in a week when I really needed their help
• Liverpool lost the Champion’s League Final
• I wore a stripy green and yellow top the next day to cheer myself up and people took the piss all day:
• I left my jacket on the bus
• My red notebook hasn’t been out of my bag for weeks

And it’s that last one that’s really getting me down. So instead of writing this post that’s what I should really be doing.

And my Tax Return; mustn’t forget to do that!

Tout Noté

On Saturday after an exceptionally long gym class I got the metro up to Blanche so that I could buy a new notebook from my favourite stationery shop. In the past I would go out of my way to go there to buy cards; it was the only place in the north of Paris (in my opinion) that sold decent cards. They also sell photo albums, things, handbags I’ve noticed, wallets, pens and notebooks.

I bought my first notebook up there in August 2005. It was a conscious decision, the one and only thing I had to do that day was buy a notebook. I remember that what I liked about it was the feel of the cover; it felt soft and sexy under my fingers. Inside the pages were cream coloured and stiff, you can flick them and they don’t bend. It was spiral bound so you can turn the pages a full 360°; two little silver rings hold it together at each end. It was burgundy, the colour of wine. It was A6 size, compact enough to fit into a bag or pocket, but large enough for my thoughts. The first line in it is: This is today’s method of saying yet again: ‘Today is the start of the rest of my life.’

I started the second one on the 1^st April 2006: So it’s the first of April ha ha! And here’s what I have discovered: I am seriously allergic to something. Yeah, it turns out it was strawberries; hysterical huh? Anyway this notebook is olive green and by then I seemed to have developed the habit of using only my parker fountain pen to write in it. In fact I distinctly remember making a note about it one day when I was without it. Ah yes there it is: Left my pen in Gluepot’s office yesterday, will that make my thoughts different? Apparently the answer is yes; because that was the day I experimented with trying to deal with everything as a man! Four months later I had completed this notebook and this one ends on a beach in Bali. It was my last day in Bali and I think I was feeling a little melodramatic. I think I should add beneath this entry (there’s a little bit of space): please shoot me if I ever write a line as bad as this again.

There was a bit of a break between ending the 2^nd one and starting the 3^rd one; moving got in the way I think. Anyway eventually I bought it and I started it with the line: I knew this one had to be blue, which of course it is, and it’s not finished. In it are scribbled lines of poetry, beginnings of stories, ponderings about my life, thoughts about books I’ve read, ideas for posts, lists of things to do while on holiday, analysis of my dreams, how I will stage the Crane Wife (well a millisecond of it and it’s the costumes that are clear in my head more than anything) and then this poemy thing:

I watched him play with time
between his fingers:
stretching it,
snapping it,
stopping it
as if it was a pliable material,
like plasticine,
instead of the steady march of
seconds,
minutes,
days and
years
that I knew it to be.

Copyright, 2007. Verilion

Since then about 18,000 more words have poured out. In 2004 I wrote 36 chapters, the furthest I ever got. There are nine different versions, each one ranging between 6,000 and 30,000 words. Out of all those words, one idea and the name of one character have stayed the same and I think I know where I went wrong before. So I bought a new notebook. It’s red, it’s just a bit smaller than A4, the paper is still blank but thinner because I may rip pages out. I’ve divided it into sections: possible titles, characters, drawings, time line of events, glossary of terms and the rest for actually writing the damn thing. I think I’ve got it all. I’ve planned out all the events; in more detail for the bits I’ve actually written and very sketchy for the middle and end, but I know where I’m going, it just seems right. In the past chapters 12 – 14 have been where I’ve got super stuck, so I’m avoiding chapters for the moment, it’s just one long stream titled things like: the bit after the beginning, the next bit after the beginning. I don’t feel like I’ve got to sit down at my computer and spew for hours on end in case I forget it. It’s growing, it’s taking on a form of its own and eh... well that’s it really. Suppose I better go and write some of it now.