Personal

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I don’t know why I blog

I don’t know why I blog.

I haven’t worked on the novel since 5th September.

Other than a short story I wrote for a competition which took about four days, I haven’t written since 5th September.

Now I don’t know why I wrote that short story or why I entered that competition. It all seems rather pointless. Obviously if I win, that would be amazing, but it’s not going to happen. The story’s OK. That’s pretty good for me – to say it’s OK – but in reality it probably isn’t. I mean, right now I think it is but I bet if I read it in a year’s time I’ll hate it. Which is good, it means I’ve improved. But it also means the story’s crap.

I also don’t know how I managed it. How I made myself write that story and enter it. Doing something like that now seems impossible.

If everything I write today I’ll hate in a year’s time, what’s the point? But if I write something and still think it’s good in a year’s time, that’ll mean I haven’t improved in a year.

I don’t know which is worse.

Some people say they love writing. I just don’t get that. I used to – when I was in school. I don’t know when I stopped.

I like to think it makes me a better writer – to not like writing – but I probably just tell myself that to feel better about it.

I feel superior to people who say they love writing. Like they’re amateurs and I’m a real writer because I hate it. But who’s the real writer – the person who does it everyday and loves it or the person who avoids it for months? Maybe I’m just jealous.

I don’t know who I am or what I’m doing or where I’m going.

And I don’t know why I blog.

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Just a quick one…

…to say I’m still alive and had a breakthrough on my novel today.

No, I hadn’t written since the last time (25th July). Yes, that’s terrible. I’m a terrible writer. So what’s new?

But I’m excited again and that’s the main thing.

Sometimes you need a break, you know? I knew something was wrong. I even knew what was wrong. I just didn’t know how to fix it.

And part of me is thinking: this won’t fix it. You’ll just hit another brick wall. And it’s probably right but you know what? That’s just how writing goes. It’s essentially problem-solving, always with another problem to solve . I wonder, do you ever get to the end? Do you ever reach a point where there are no more problems? I guess not because then it would be perfect. Maybe you just get so worn down by all the problems that you just can’t solve any more and you give up and throw it at an agent to deal with.

And then they point out more problems and this time you have to solve them because a professional pointed them out to you.

That’s how it goes for me at work, actually. I draft and I edit and then I get bored and I go ‘huh. Close enough.’ and pass it on to my boss who reads it and says ‘NO’ and points out all the things he wants changing. And sometimes they’re simple like ‘add a comma here’ but sometimes I have to think of a new word or a way of phrasing a sentence, just so it ‘works’, because even though I knew it didn’t work before I passed it to him, I wouldn’t actually do anything  until he underlined it and told me to. And so it gets a little better and then we both give up and that’s that.

Makes you wonder about self-published books. I guess the writers just pay an editor. Or have more staying-power.

Oh right, the breakthrough. Should I tell you? It might jinx it. Nah, it won’t jinx it. What a load of nonsense. It may make me look foolish when it turns out not to be the answer I’m looking for but hey. We’ve covered that. Mistakes aren’t stupid, they’re human and they enable you to learn and grow so nuuuur.

The Breakthrough

What is currently the prologue will be the epilogue. This means I can start with the dream as the prologue and then end the first chapter with Diana’s arrival. Boom! Straight in the story, cutting all the boring crap right out of there with a knife so sharp, it doesn’t even touch it.

Yeah? Yeah?!

I’m tired.

Goodnight.

Thoughts?

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Holiday!

Apologies for my lack of blogging over the last few days – I was swallowed up by The Hunger Games trilogy. If you’ve read them, you know what I’m talking about. If not, you should. They’re not literary masterpieces but when the action gets going you won’t care. You won’t even notice. The ending was very abrupt – I wanted more on life after – but hey. They were still cracking books. So if you’re being a snob, get over it.

Right then. I’m also sending my apologies for my lack of blogging over the coming days, due to the fact that I’m going on holiday. Whoop whoop! But I’ll be back. In just over a week.

Try not to miss me too much!

LB

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Me vs the AntiWrite 7 & 8: 24th and 25th July 2013

I forgot to blog yesterday because I was so busy…WRITING!

Yesterday, I wrote 1,963 words! Pretty good, right?

And so far today I’ve written 1,776. I say so far because I fully intent to churn out another thousand. Maybe do a #1k1hr. (Twitter thing for those not on twitter).

So…yeah, I guess that’s me: 2, AntiWrite: 0.

Suck on that, AntiWrite.

UPDATE: final word count for 25th…2,616. BOOM.

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Me vs the AntiWrite 6: 23rd July 2013

It’s late. I failed. Today, the AntiWrite possessed my dad and distracted me with ludicrous faff about my holiday next week: travel insurance and money and stupid things like that. I now have travel insurance, thank you, but it’s 11:45pm and my hair needs washing. So I guess I’ll get up ridiculously early to do that. Thanks, AntiWrite, you bastard.

AntiWrite: 1

Me: 0

Words: 0

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Me vs the AntiWrite 5: 22nd July 2013

Didn’t write at lunch. Got home. Watched an hour long TV programme (about what makes us humans – love that kind of thing, found it really inspiring actually – summary: big, complex brains, we learn knowledge more than are born with it, and need culture and other humans to be truly human – it’s all about cooperation.) Wrote until dinner and again after dinner. Managed 1,605. Pretty, pretty…pretty good.

Me: 1

AntiWrite: 0

Words: 1,605

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Meh. (Or Me vs the AntiWrite 4: 21st July 2013, rambling style)

So I’m supposed to be writing but have absolutely no idea what happens next and I know it doesn’t matter cause it’s a first draft and won’t make the final cut, anyway, but still. Figured I’d blog about it and see if that helped. So far, it isn’t. And I’m incredibly tired and would quite like to go to sleep, even though it’s only 9 o’ clock. And Emma Chapman has been on twitter but not replied to me. Which is rude. But maybe she will reply but is just thinking about what to say – it was a pretty weird tweet; I don’t think I’d know how to react. Couldn’t go wrong with a simple ‘thank you’, though, could she?

What happens next?

The situation is this: it’s the evening of the day Diana arrived. They’ve all been arguing a lot. Diana and Duncan had a huge fight and she was repacking – throw everything at the suitcase style – and Cathy asked her to stay so she is now and they just put her room back in order.

Now what?

The thing is, I’m not sure where Duncan is, at the mo. which would obviously make a difference because I’m thinking they’ll both be avoiding him, unless Diana decides to confront him, but I can’t see that happening, actually.

And I’m concerned that if I force myself to write, it’ll be the wrong thing, but maybe that’s just the AntiWrite talking.

Sigh.

I have written 304 words today. Pathetic, right? Still, I guess it’s better than nothing.

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On Emma Chapmen’s How to be a Good Wife (not a review)

Last week I read Emma Chapman’s debut novel How to be a Good Wife. I say last week – it took me three days of last week, or six bus journeys to be precise.

It was about half-way down the first page that I realised: this was a book that would stay with me; a book I would, on finishing, instantly want to recommend to everyone I could; a book I would love.

I wasn’t wrong.

Something about the themes and the writing style just clicked with me. The themes are very similar to those I’m writing about in my own currently rambling mess of a novel, and the ending is worryingly similar (both protagonists head for the sea at the end, with an implication of suicide). One of the tutors of the MLit at St Andrews used to talk about synchronicity – when people start writing about the same things at the same time for no apparent reason – and I wonder if this has happened with us.

So, naturally, I feel a strange connection to Emma Chapman.

The first thing I did on finishing the novel, after the inevitable moment needed to take it all in and come back to the real world, was find her author bio. Turns out she’s a year older than me and also did an MA in Creative Writing, only hers was at Royal Holloway, which I did look at when deciding where I would go. It doesn’t say when she went but it is possible that if I had gone there instead of St Andrews, we would have studied together. How would this have affected our novels? Maybe it’s a good thing we didn’t do our masters together – one of our novels might never have been started. It would be a crime if it was hers.

Of course, she probably studied at a different time to me, but it’s fun to speculate.

Anyway, I’m a bit obsessed with her, now. I found her and started following her on twitter (never before has that seemed so creepy to me!). I even tweeted her: ‘Just wanted to say, How to be a Good Wife knocked Anna Karenina off the top spot (of my favourite books of all time).’ I wanted to add more but twitter restricted me and I’m glad it did. I might have gone on forever.

So now I await her response. Perhaps she will reply and we’ll become friends, so much so that she offers to read Mother Stands for Comfort, seeing as the books share a lot of common themes. Perhaps she will ignore me forever. Perhaps she will respond but either I’ll be disappointed by it for whatever reason and won’t reply, or she won’t reply to my reply and the conversation will, perhaps inevitably, fizzle out.

Like so many things, time will tell.