Thursday, 9 December 2010

blogging from the bus (...or, pulling my socks up)

I nearly fell over about 5 times on the way to the bus this morning. Boring, I know, but I felt the need to share. Now I'm blogging from the bus, the number 56 to Gosforth in fact. It was late but so was I so it worked well. To combat snowy conditions I've been getting up and getting public transport early. In inclement weather its only bearable when its quiet.
In other news, I've taken baby footsteps towards the rewrite. I haven't read it yet but I have decided where I want the action to start, so I've started. I want a couple of pages to take to my group on Sat. I'm quite nervous, but excited. Eeek! I've also bought a book on character. I struggle somewhat with character and its been a featured comment in some of my short story feedback so I'm hoping the book will help. Its by Holly Lisle if anyone wants to google it, and from what I can see it says you don't need to know everything about them (good, I don't know everything about anyone, doesn't mean they're not real to me) and just cos someone has a funny hat or an interesting walk it doesn't make them a good character. Anyway, watch this space. I hope it works.

Right, must go. Time to iceskate.

Sunday, 5 December 2010


Last week, I printed my NaNo story off. I nearly broke the printer (historically, I'm not good with silly things like printers and shredders), but, oh! how awesome it looks. It's a lot bigger than I thought it would be. It looks a lot more...booky than I thought it would. I bought a new folder especially and I've put it in there and I pick it up at least once a day and marvel at the weight of it.

However, I didn't print it just so I could oooh over it and congratulate myself. I printed it off so I could start to edit it. So I could begin what I imagine to be a very, very long process. So I can start to whip the opening chapters into shape for the Debut Dagger competition. I printed it off with very good intentions (not just to kill trees).

So what's stopping me? Well, I appear to have given myself the fear. Absolute, unmistakable, heavy hearted, want to take to my bed and lie in the dark fear. And for what? I've spent November knowing that it is rubbish. I've already established that I need to do character development, and that, in general, I'm better at re-writing than I am at writing. I've armed myself with new pens to write all over it. I have paper to write lists of plot holes, and research needed, and all the other stuff I know will need to be done. I'm ready for this re-write, but...I've also spent November thinking, maybe I'm on to something here? I have a half written synopsis where I haven't had to make it up as I go, it's all taken from the story. I have new scenes that I want to write. I think I'm just scared that if I start, my inner editor won't take kindly to a month of being exiled and will tell me it's rubbish. That the bad far, far outweighs any good that could ever come of it, that I was a fool to even think I could do this. Quite frankly, it scares the pants of me and makes me feel a little bit like crying.

Deep down I know that I should just get it over with, that its like being waxed or tattooed, a horrible thing that hurts loads but also only hurts for a very short time and then the end result is really worth it. So yes. I should start.

Or maybe I'll go and prepare the veg for dinner. And have a go at a short story. And drink some tea. Yes, definitely drink some tea. Perhaps tea will give me the courage I need to get this thing started, and once I've started, it won't be so bad...