Normaling is Fun...

Here's a NSFW question if you can handle it. Treat it rhetorically, please. I have no need for actual answers when I'm merely trying to illustrate a point. Brace yourself, Prudes, here we go...

Have you ever been in the middle of having lovely consensual sex in an upstairs room when you hear someone's key in the front door? 

HAS THIS EVER
HAPPENED TO YOU?

Look, sorry for going straight to the nub of the issue here. Except I haven't yet, that's still to come. Still, you know. Sorry. But, back to my potential voyeuristic problem. I'm not talking about an illicit affair or something that shouldn't be happening. This is more a returning flatmate situation, or a family member that has dropped off some shopping and is only nipping in. Has that ever happened to you? If it helps you can lose the upstairs/downstairs arrangement. I'm referring more to the dawning awareness of someone else in the building. It could be someone waking up in the next bedroom, an unexpected car pulling up outside, or the window cleaner's head emerging behind the hastily closed curtains the second you get jiggy. 

Have a think and ponder the impact that would have on the sexy time. For some of you - filthy buggers - it would add an exciting thrill to the proceedings. For those that feel this way, my eventual point is going to be lost on you. Be on your way and good day. For many, however, it would be completely off-putting. It might not actually impinge on your privacy for real - if the bedroom door was shut and the person that had entered the house stayed downstairs, there would be no immediate reason to stop. But I'd bet money it would drag you out of the moment and, I'm guessing, reduce the likelihood of the wave-crashing, champagne cork-popping conclusion you were planning. It would cramp your style, stop you from losing yourself, and put you off. 

My usual writing set up.
Quite clearly alone.

So, now we're suitably uncomfortable and scanning our minds back over our every shag, let's get to the point. From January this year, I've no longer had the house to myself as much as I did. The person that also lives here has rejigged his working hours to accommodate more time off. Two weekdays more, in fact. Good for him. (That sentiment is predominantly sarcastic.) Good for him but, it's fair to say, not good for me. Having a silent, empty house for twelve hours a day, has been essential. Conversely, it's also an out and out luxury. I know that deep down. Writers with kids, jobs and responsibilities don't get to be so fussy. But I've been spoilt. For nine years this is how I've worked. Silently and alone. Whilst I might be able to make notes or research stuff with someone else around, I absolutely cannot write. I know this because I've tried. It always ends up being a waste of time. I reread the same bits over and over, unable to take them in. Everything is forced. I might type words but they invariably end up deleted the next time I'm alone and can process what I've written. Like the interrupted sex, someone sitting in the lounge enjoying their day off as I'm in the kitchen trying to write, would cramp my style, stop me from losing myself, and put me off. 

I was fairly annoyed about it over Christmas. During family get togethers and mates' gatherings, I had to listen to the new January plans being shared excitedly. Obviously taking time off from a busy job is great for the person having the break. Good for him. (Again, more snark.) It was just infuriating to realise that this new routine would screw me over in the process, regardless of whether that was the intention or not. My own plans for 2020 were to get the draft of Book Three whipped into shape, professionally edited, beta-read by several people, with the view to formatting and front-covering by the start of next year. With a couple of days a week taken away from that, it would push things back even further. The process takes long enough as it is.

I needed a plan. The good news (for me this time. Hurrah!) was that I found one. 

The ladder adds a particular 
je ne sais quoi to the ambience

The Pharmacy business of which I'm a silent partner (the easiest of all the partner roles, I've found) has an upstairs office. In fact, now that the non-silent business partner was planning on relaxing at home two days a week, that office was going to be empty. It occurred to me that a desk and chair in a room with a closed door, might just work. On New Year's Eve I popped in and surveyed the scene. Was this a place I could begin the editing and rewriting of Book Three? Well, look at the photo and decide. Does this scene speak of an environment that nurtures creativity? I hope you can see the answer is a big fat NO. But, it was still better than my mostly open plan house. I used a measure app on my phone to work out what space I had to play with, and with the help of eBay, Ikea, and some drawn-to-scale plans, the like of which have not been seen since my GSCE Design and Communication days, I planned out a work space.

A desk and office chair aren't really necessary. As pictured above, my preferred writing position is an upright but comfy chair, legs elevated on a stool, laptop balanced on a Stewie Griffin cushion, with the whole thing resting on my thighs. That was the vibe I needed to recreate in the Pharmacy office. So, that's what I did. 

It's a work space!
Happily, my yellow chair has
got a lot of love from
the Pharmacy staff.

Last week was the first week of the new routine. It was really quite odd waking up on Tuesday and getting showered and dressed first thing. You know, the way I used to when I went out to work. In 30 Rock, the character of Jenna Maroney is dating Paul, a Jenna Maroney impersonator. After trying one outlandish sexual fetish after another, they find pleasure in 'normaling' Behaving like normal people. That's what it felt like last Tuesday. There was nothing unusual about what I did, but for me it was a real change. I got to the office at ten, along with a flask of tea and cheese and crackers, sat in my yellow chair, and stayed there until half past six. Apart from two wee breaks (no, you're welcome) I didn't move. I also read the entire draft of Book Three, and made notes about each chapter along the way. I chose not to get on the Wifi, I kept the door shut, and had the most productive day I can remember. When Thursday came, I was excited to be able to repeat the process, and I did.

1.2 litres of tea is an essential
part of the new routine.

I know it's probably novelty that's making this feel like a breakthrough. Or simply that without Wifi, I'm not scrolling through Twitter every few seconds. But for two days last week I was on fire. The other new thing, that feels like I'm normaling again, is that chatting to colleagues at the end of the day is rather lovely. As I left on Thursday, the locum Pharmacist that I know a bit, chatted with me about the film Bombshell that we'd both seen. He recommended a book to me, and we talked about how good Little Women was. It was five minutes of natter, but it was really nice. I haven't made end-of-the-day small talk for years, but I liked it. Normaling. It's fun.

I was genuinely happy
at this point. It was the second
day of using the office and
it was all working out.

If you've made it to the end of this, and weren't put off by all my sex talk, then good on you. It's a longer Ramble than usual, but it's been a strange time. What I thought was going to be an infuriating start to the new year, has turned out to be surprisingly positive. It might be early days but I'm happier about this change that I'd assumed. There's probably a lesson to take from that, but I've written enough this week. What with all the normaling as well, I'm shattered.

Have a lovely week, folks.

Where to Begin Next...

Lolz. It isn't. It just takes work.

The skive is over. The routine is back. I'm out of bed, I've a complete draft of Book Three printed off in front of me, and it's time to make it read like the quality literature that it probably is deep down. But how exactly am I going to do that? 

Good question. How exactly indeed. Well, one thing I can say with confidence right now is that I'm aware of the limitations of the story so far. The plot might unfold the way I had planned, and the characters might drag themselves from A to Z in the way I'd envisaged, but - and it's a big but - it's not very pretty. The reader doesn't trip lightly through the story. They will, but they don't yet. It's clunky and heavy-handed and obvious and dull. Last week, a friend asked me about the book writing (she knew it was a continuation of Carry the Beautiful) and said, 'Does your character still have something to say?' I thought for a second and answered honestly. 'She does. But I don't think she's said it in the first draft.'

So here we are. Time to rip up that first draft and start again. Time to make sure Tilda, Bea and Stewart's journeys are worth the time it takes to read. 'Ripping it up and starting again' is a neat phrase but obviously won't be done literally. I have to have an actual plan for what comes next. What will I actually be doing over the ensuing months, day by day? Well, rather serendipitously, I had a mail out from Jericho Writers last week. They are a writing support group that has a weekly newsletter focusing on aspects of writing. (They're great and worth checking out if you're in need of writing support). Last week's email was about how to start editing your book. Spooky timing, right? Sometimes the emails are  - whilst always interesting - not necessarily relevant to where I'm up to. But not last week. No Ma'am. Last week's was bang on with what I needed to read. So, what wisdom did they impart? Was it any different to the vague plan I already had? Did they throw me an editing curve ball and force me to rethink everything I have learnt about what comes next? Well, no. Not really. It was reassuringly along the lines of what I'd been planning. Let me share my plans as well as the Jericho Writers' suggestions so you can compare.

Screen shot from Jericho Writers
mail out from Sarah J, on 14.1.20 

Nicky's Editing Next Steps

1. Read through from start to end. Make a summary of each chapter along the way. What works? What needs beefing up or changing? 

2. Does the story keep moving? Is the plot predictable? Is there enough suspense or engagement to keep turning the page?  Map out the chapter order (and change it where needed) on the wall.

3. Do the characters' journeys make sense? Do they all move on? Is there a sense of closure for each of them?

See, almost exactly the same. It was hugely reassuring to see my plans for the foreseeable future were in tune with people who aren't winging it every minute. Even more reassuring is that this feeling of 'ripping it up and starting again' is perfectly normal. This is the third novel I've written. I've felt the same way at this stage every time. I recognise the feeling of being overwhelmed with its problems. That's just part of it. The next stage is to systematically eradicate them.

I've already bought a new notebook, postcards and markers. I've got a blank wall ready to Blu Tack chapter summaries onto, in a variety of pretty patterns. I've even got a new writing area from which to work; I might share that with you at a later date. It's all coming together. That in itself is a reassuring feeling.

But now I've procrastinated enough. Christmas is most definitely over and I've got work to do. If I can whip this up into a readable, shareable shape by the summer, I'll be happy. That's when the beta reader stage will kick in. Until then, I shall be 'ripping up and rewriting' all the day is long.

Have a lovely week, folks.

The Joy of Being Empty Headed...

This is an exact representation of me
right now. Except I am not a turtle.
And I have no pizza.

It's week two of my three week break/skive* and I am relaxed. The story so far is that I'm trying to forget what my first draft of Book Three looks like, so I'm 'chilling out' and 'having fun' now that the business of December is over. 

And it has been fun so far. Not setting an alarm in the morning is a treat. No guilty urgency about word counts or the number of hours spent tinkering with a paragraph, is lovely. As much as writing is flexible, I've found the longer I've done it, the more time I spend 'tinkering'. Whilst the TV is on in the evening, when I'm driving somewhere, or when I'm cutting up veg for tea, a thought will pop into my head. I have to stop whatever I'm doing, find my phone, and type a garbled note to myself that I hope will mean something later. This also happens in the middle of the night. Basically, I never switch off. 

But now I have. Switched off, that is. It took a few days but it's happened. There's reasons for that. Not setting an alarm, for example, means I start the day in a much more casual way. I come to, rather than wake with a start. And when I've come to, I doze off again. It's great. Sorry for those back at work, but it's been a long time since I did this. I'm going to enjoy it.

Next, I'm forcibly filling my brain with other things. I mentioned books last week. So far, in 2020, I've read five novels and a play. I know! I'm well impressed with myself. Turns out, my Kindle is an enabler. I still have my rules though. I won't read anything I would have bought in paper form from a bricks and mortar book shop. So any new releases that I'm excited about, won't be getting downloaded. Instead, I've re-read a couple of books I'd enjoyed in the past, and bought a few others that I had been happy to let slip by. Turns out they were all good. Reading is great. Breaking news.

I am absolutely not
103 but this is great.

Finally, the big new thing in my life is the best distraction from writing ever. It's all-consuming and swallows up hours of my time without me looking at my phone once. I am aware I've moved into old person territory with this, but I honestly don't care. It's my new thing. I have become a fan of...jigsaws! 

Yes, jigsaws. Who even am I? The thing is, it's not even the jigsaw element of jigsaws that I love. It's the specific nature of the one I was given. I got a 2000 piece map of the world! This feeds into my love of maps and my excellent (even if I do say so myself) knowledge of countries.** I started it a few days after Christmas and soon realised this was going to be an absolute beast of a project. Just sorting out the edges from the non-edges took a good hour or so, but it flew by. My head was filled with the minutest of details that might help piece two or three bits together. Instead of global world events, the lies and backpedaling of the current government from their election promises, or that pesky Chapter 17 that just doesn't read right, I focused on two blue, seemingly identical chunks of ocean and where they fitted into the picture as a whole. It's the ideal task to force my brain to stop. And for whole chunks of time, too. I don't look at Twitter, use my phone, or scroll mindlessly thought New Look's new looks. It's nice to do something completely different. 

I was telling a friend that I'm all about jigsaws these days, and she responded with, 'How do you have time to do jigsaws?' And under normal circumstance I don't. But for this break/skive* that I'm in the middle of, it's perfect. And even though I'm still only on the edges and haven't made it onto the actual map yet, I've got a deadline to get it finished. A week today when I start back on with the book, I need to have it completed. I also have approximately thirteen more novels to read during my skive. I'm sure I'll fit it all in. I should probably start setting an alarm. Just to get the most hours from each day.

Have a lovely week, folks.

*Delete as appropriate.

**When insomnia hits, I have a tried and tested system to force me to drop off. I mentally list all the countries in the world, starting with North America and ending up - in a sort of clockwise arc - with Africa. It's surprisingly effective. I never make it to Asia before dropping off. Anyone need a snooze? OK then... 

Canada, USA, Panama, Mexico, Guatemla, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Belize, El Salvador, Antigua and Barbuda.......... zzzzzzzz

Warning: Creative Juices Depleted...

Hello war with the Middle East,
bush fires, Brexit and EVERYTHING ELSE.

We're a week in. Everyone coping so far? Yeah, I know world events haven't exactly eased us in gently. Huge chunks of Australia continue to burn. World War Three was trending by the 3rd. Best not check back in with the news. Not for a while, anyway. 

Focusing on the mundane might be all that is possible. What can we fill our time with if we're going to attempt to ignore the impeding doom around us? Well, it's different for everyone, of course. Some were straight back to work after Christmas. Others enjoyed a final week of chilling before real life kicked back in. For me, I've still got that completed first draft that needs metaphorically ripping apart and rebuilding. (Not that metaphorically, probably.) The thing is, it was all I filled my head with from June to December, and there were many early mornings and middle of the nights where I typed away, ignoring sensible sleep patterns and anything else that might be conducive to a healthy mental state. So now it's done, I need to give it, and my head, some space. I can still remember what I wrote. I want to forget before I pick it up again and read with fresh eyes. 

John Niven, the writer, once responded to the question 'How long should I leave my first draft before editing?' with 'Put it in a drawer and leave it for six months.' I completely agree with him (even if I can't find his original tweet saying that, and so I've had to paraphrase the exchange and hope for the best.) I don't have six months though. I mean, I do but I can't wait that long. I've not got my finger in a bunch of other pies that can occupy my time. Instead, I'm giving myself three weeks. Three weeks of January, not re-reading, thinking or editing Book 3. And the way I'm going to fill my time is going to sound like a big skive, even though it is not.

Ready for it? Oh well, I'll tell you anyway. I'm going to watch films and read books. No, honestly, it's an essential part of the process. I promise. My creative juice store is bare. Properly empty. By the time I was writing the last chapter of the draft a few weeks ago, I was writing utter drivel. And for plenty of the chapters before that too. I was getting in the basic plot points, but with the most jagged and literal dialogue going. Nothing of beauty, nothing that was pleasing to the eye or ear. Just going through the motions to get the thing done. And that's OK. For now. Because when I come to edit and rewrite it, I'll address all the rubbish then. But I can only address it, if I am fizzing over with ideas, literary devices, and narrative tools at my disposal. So that's what I'm going to do; spend three weeks replenishing my creative juices so I have the wherewithal to get back to it once again.

'Go Away I'm Reading'
A genuine hoody of joy from a
 mate who did not know
my January plans. Spooky.

For those who still need convincing this is not a self-indulgent skive, I've had a breakthrough already. My rough draft is a chronological, linear narrative. My nagging suspicion in recent weeks is that it won't grip readers to keep going. If it's A to B to C to D, what will make them keep reading to Z? All the information is laid out in order, and there's no suspense beyond liking the characters and wanting to see what happens to them. I'm not sure that's enough. It's been a thought I've had for the last couple of months without really knowing what to do about it. Anyway, by 2nd January, I'd completed step one in my 'Restore Nicky's Creative Juices Plan'. I had read The Ex Pats by Chris Pavone. A grippy thriller that takes place in several places (like my story) with several characters (like my story) but with several timelines chopping and changing, and revealing snippets of clues about what's to come before the reader really understands them (not like my story in the slightest.) It showed me how a structural change to the narrative would lift it immediately. It gave me food for thought and a bunch of ideas about what to do next. (I'm envisioning postcards blu-tacked onto a wall as I mix up chapters and work out a new layout of reveals. Exciting!) 

So there we go. Two days into a three-week break and by simply reading a novel for pleasure again, I've had a creative boost that will help the next steps of my book. All English teachers know this to be true. If a child reads books, they will have the tools to write. If they don't read, then they won't. So I've got three weeks of reading ahead of me which will provide me with replenished juices and a store cupboard of tools. And then, when I've emerge from that legging and hoody phase, blinking into the light, I'll be ready to rip up that first draft and write the hell out of the second. 

Have a lovely week, folks.