My Book is Better Than Your Pot...

My spokesperson, Doctor Who, will 
apologise on my behalf.

Looking back, it seems every time I've done a book update over the past few months, it's been full of doom and gloom. If it wasn't lockdown brain fog, it was STUPID EDITING. And if it wasn't STUPID EDITING, it was my inability to land on a title. All in all, I've vented far too much on the readers of my weekly nonsense, and I can only apologise. 

This update will be far more upbeat. Cross my heart, pinkie promise, and all that stuff. The good news is, I don't need to force an upturn in my mood. It's here for realises, and is almost unsettling in its about-turn from the previous months. Somewhere along the way, my Work In Progress has stopped pissing me off quite so much. I knew it would at some point. It always does. And I wish I knew the science behind when or why it happens. Except there is no science. It's mysterious, magical trickery. One day, every page you read is shite. You wonder how you ever convinced yourself this was a good use of your time. And you physically sit on your hands to stop yourself throwing the 150 page document in the air and screaming into the void. Then, for literally no reason whatsoever, the day comes when you have a spring in your step after re-reading a section. You feel excited at the thought of asking your beta-readers if they're happy to have a look. You start to think seriously about the timeline to publication. In the past couple of weeks, the tide has turned. I've stopped writing off every written word as bollocks, and I've decided that it's coming together nicely.

I am almost there. Not quite, but almost.

Now, let's not be hasty. I'm still in the middle of STUPID EDITING. That period lasts forever. (It feels like forever, anyway.) But after doing all sorts of rewriting, tinkering, and deleting since January, Book Three's manuscript is in far better shape. Why? Well let me tell you!

1. I now have a title. After moaning to your good selves about the difficulties in stumbling upon the perfect name, I stewed a while longer and let the creative juices bubble away. In the end, a version of something I'd mooted on the blogpost, stood out as being the one. That was confirmed when I floated it past a writer-mate and she agreed. (Derisive scorn was all I got from my brother, but I let that go over my head.) So now there's a title, there's a clearer sense of the completeness of it all. The Untitled Nicky Bond Project file has a proper name. It's still the same manuscript, but psychologically, things are advancing.

2. I have now settled on the opening. First of all I had a Prologue, followed by Chapter One and Chapter Two. Then I ditched the Prologue and went straight into Chapter One and Chapter Two. Then I decided that Chapter Two was a better opener, so I switched Chapter One and Chapter Two around. Then I realised a version of the Prologue would be good to foreshadow later drama, so I brought back a revamped version. Right now, I have the New Prologue, The Old Chapter Two, then the Old Chapter One to lead the reader into the action. And I'm happy that this is the way to go. Finding the best version of the opening, doesn't mean the rest of the book follows perfectly, but at least I'm confident it piques the readers' interest from the off. (In theory. Hopefully. Fingers crossed.)

3. I now know what isn't working. At first, everything isn't working. Everything is silly, inconsequential faff, and I can only wonder at the depths of boredom any future reader will experience. Then, the more I rewrite paragraphs, and the more I delete waffle, the more the good stuff emerges. It's gradual. There's no sudden 'WOW, THIS IS NOW A BRILLIANT BOOK' moment. Course there's not. I'll never think that. But I can see the parts of the story that I'm happy with. This, in turn, leaves the other bits standing out more clearly - the bits that I find myself skipping over when I reread. If I do that, then so will others. It shows me there's something unsatisfactory with those bits. Over the weeks, those rubbishy parts have become clearer, and as such, so has my To Do List. I can tackle them one at at time, systematically, like weeding a garden. One by one, they'll get sorted, and the percentage of the story I'm happy with will increase. There's still lots to change, but I know where and what it is. (It's about 37% instead of 99.99999%.)

My book is better, so there!
(Image taken from here.)

So there we have it. The STUPID EDITING continues, but with less angst and self-loathing. At some point over the next month or so, I'll badger my beta-readers to give up their time along with any anxiety about being critical, and ask them to give it to me straight. Then there'll be the editor, the front cover to sort, and a bunch of social media posts where I plead and beg for sales. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. We're still taking baby steps. For now, the fact I don't hate every one of the 89,000 words I've typed since this time last year, is an absolute miracle. The formless slab of clay now has curves, angles, shadow and detail. It's still not Michelangelo's David - nor will it ever be - but it's definitely more advanced than a thumb pot made by a kid in Nursery. Sorry to any Nursery kids with excellent clay skills, but my book is well better than your pot. Nah nah nah-nah nah. A few months ago, I could not have made this bold claim. 

Have a lovely week, folks.