I've
written some passable stories along with some half-decent blogs, but never
before blogged about writing. This is probably because the machinations of my
creative processes are a mystery, even to me, and a lot of the time I'm
not really sure what I'm doing. That is especially true right now, with
reference to my now-you-see-it-now-you-don't novel, Brockberrow.
Brockberrow has been bugging me
spasmodically for twelve years, the first draft reaching 66,000 words, but
progress ceased about two years in when a well-meaning associate murmured,
"It's amusing, but nothing ever happens," I sulked for a couple
of years, then had a fresh look, cut out lots of crap and several characters,
and ended up with just 25,000 relevant words, but although I had a plot outline
right through to the finish, it stalled again. After two or three more false
starts, I shrugged, curled my lip and shelved it in perpetuity, but one morning
recently, in those surreal seconds between waking and actually becoming
functional, I had a lightbulb moment, which I knew immediately would Change
Everything.
It was suddenly obvious that two
early chapters of Brockberrow, chapters that I regarded as priceless literary
pearls, were completely irrelevant, and that Griswold, my main character, was a
boring sod, although crucially, not sufficiently boring to the point where he
ever became interesting. Griswold would have to completely re-invent himself if
he wanted his contract renewed and the book would now also need a New Beginning.
Imbued, now, with the zeal of the newly converted, I set about the task -
only to find three brand new opening chapters that I'd written twelve
months ago, this following a Damascene experience, (same as a lightbulb moment,
but experienced when fully conscious) during which it was revealed that I'd not
started the book at its logical beginning and that All Would Be Well if I
remedied that.
I'm not quite sure how I managed to
disremember my Damascene experience, or the three(beautifully crafted)
chapters, but at least it proves my earlier statement that a lot of the time
I'm not really sure what I'm doing
Still, all is not lost. My much loved
chapters will edit down nicely to make a 4000 word short story and I've found a
competition calling for entries that combine humorous with weird, three goes
for a tenner. I have humorous and weird in my files in spades. What can
possibly go wrong?
