Will Write For Food

It feels like ages since I posted anything. Well, I suppose technically it has been ages… Any hoo, I’ve begun submitting my synopsis and shiny opening chapters to agents, which is both exciting and terrifying. Acceptance means I’m shuffling further up the path towards my dream of writing full-time and having real, live people read my work (excluding my mum, of course!) Rejection means I might well be on to a loser, my work sucks and I should have filled out the application for the McDonalds graduate training programme. I can fully understand why so many writers whittle away at their craft for years, only to hide everything they produce in a deep, dark drawer… That way, you can never fail. Obviously, you can also never win; and as Delboy says: “He who dares, wins”. I hold deep reverence for the philosophy of Mr Trotter (from the legendary TV show, Only Fools and Horses, for anyone outside the UK), so thus, I keep taking my efforts out of the deep, dark drawer, brushing them off and sending them out into the world.

I’m also happy to report that the foundations for novel number two, as yet untitled (it’s actually novel number three, but the first one really is staying in a deep, dark drawer… Or at least in a well hidden folder on my USB stick), are firming up nicely. I wanted to create an actual world for this one, dark and rich and full of hidden facets. That’s the idea, anyway I came across something called a Basic World Building Worksheet at The Scriptorium which I’m going to use to set down ground rules for my world. The worksheet’s great because it covers things you might never think of that could create eye-watering plot holes further down the line, such as the ratios of different races and major geographical features. You can print it out or do what I did and paste into Word (I hate hand-writing anything these days… Is that a major character flaw on my part?!)

Now I just have to think of some awesome, completely non-boring names… Which is something I’m very bad at. The novel is set in a grand, all-emcompassing city where the poverty stricken are forced to live underground. That needs a name. My cast of characters are beginning to take shape. They all need names. The only name I’ve decided upon is the name of one of two conflicting religions… So basically, I’m giving myself a major headache over this. I think I’ll have to resort to my tried and tested trick of scouring baby name websites. Any one else have this annoying blockage when it comes to naming your own creations?

The Synopsis Ate My Brain

I think I may have finished the synopsis for my novel (deep intake of breath…) It was every bit as horrible as every writer says it is. How, after all, can you possibly relay the intricacies of your masterpiece, the motivations of your characters and your flawless, hole-free plot on two pages of A4? It’s enough to send you prematurely grey (incidentally, my family found FIVE pure white hairs on my 25 year-old head recently… That’s not normal, is it?!) But it’s done. Now I just have to write the agent/begging letter and polish the first three chapters until they’re shinier than tin foil.

I’m not happy though. I had so many things planned for when I finished my first draft. I was going to follow Stephen King’s advice and put the novel away before revising (because I always listen to Mr King, my copy of On Writing is so well thumbed, it’s yellow. It also falls open exactly to the page where he tells Tabitha King how much Carrie sold for and she starts to cry… Love that bit!)  After burying the novel and pretending it no longer existed, I wanted to write a short story I’ve been thinking about for a long time and maybe start planning the next novel, which I think is going to be a dark fairytale set in a labyrinthine city (yes, I know we’ve all heard that old chestnut before, but the muse wants what she wants). The thing is, none of these grand plans materialised.

I don’t really know what happened. One moment I was full of excitement, eagerly imagining my dream future as a full-time writer, which is so important for lil’ unknowns like me… The next I was staring at the abyss, wondering where the hell my mojo had gone. I’ve written barely anything since I finished my first draft, and I know Mr King would be ashamed of me. Maybe my muse just wanted a holiday after I forced her to work like a Trojan to finish the book. Who knows… What I do know is that the muse won’t often arrive willingly. My muse, in particular, is a rude, churlish woman, prone to frequent swear words and large bottles of vodka. I have to poke her with a very pointy stick before she agrees to come out and play. Which means I should get off my behind, get those three chapters ready to send to prospective agents and write that short story.

Here’s a brief side note and probably (?) little-known fact – J.K. Rowling’s agent doesn’t accept genre fiction. What’s that all about?! I’m guessing they received a deluge of the stuff after the success of Harry Potter and now they can’t bear to look at another word of it. That’s my piece of wanton speculation for the day, anyway

One more side note! – I don’t know why, but every writer seems to have a cat. Which I find harshly unfair seeing as I’ve always wanted a kitty of my very own but live in a first floor flat above a shop (hence, no way can a cat live here). So for now, I’m making do with this cute picture (I wan’ ‘im, I wan’ ‘im!)