Not writing much

Just editing Claudius's Elephants  for Mark - which is fine - but time consuming, requiring a lot of re-writing and some consultation with Wikipedia... fact checking it's called.  I told him a couple of years ago when he was ill that I'd finish the book for him if he died, but I'm not sure I'd be able to - finding my way through his card indexes would be a nightmare. 

I have written nothing on TRF for several days.  This is chiefly because I have a cold - I have the superstition that if I write when I am ill it will be no good - this is because I remember writing reams of stuff when I had appalling flu in Paris in 1976... but now I come to think of it, it produced some rather good work.   There's a lightheadedness about illness that frees one's imagination - regrettably it probably also dilutes one's critical faculties.  I enjoyed an episode of East Enders on Sunday when I was feeling really grim.  Perhaps I should plunge in, cold or no cold - so maybe tomorrow - after the Ocado delivery of course, I will have a really big writing day.   (I have to write an estimate and nice letter to an archaeology client of course, first).  Or do I mean a big re-writing day?  I think I have to tackle the whole university experience differently - perhaps get the feminist flat-share that I planned for 17 Years into this, lose the commune?  Actually, the cold must have largely disappeared - now I am planning things again!

Book of the Month!

This month I have only managed to read one book - not a very auspicious start to 2012.   Last year I had read about 4 by now, which since I ended the year having read about 40 was about right.

I have become very aware that I am reading fewer, easier books - and to amend that I asked for some slightly tougher non-fiction  for Christmas - however, although I started Teofilo Ruiz's The Terror of History I haven't got very far with it - due to distractions, it certainly seemed very enjoyable... For various reasons I think I want to finally read Jared Diamond's Collapse next: I started it about 2.5 years ago, when it was recommended to me, but at the time found the subject matter, the decline of cultures/civilisations/communities, rather distressing.

The book I just finished is a worthwhile candidate - The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver.  It's an interesting book - set partly in Mexico and in the 1920s-50s with lots of good chewy issues: about being self-effacing, about how newspapers twist stories, how distortions come to be believed, how there are holes in things - which can conceal information... a very clever book really. Much more enjoyable than The Poisonwood Bible which I stopped reading because I found all the characters unsympathetic...

The dangers of success

I haven't written for 2 days - Thursday is a doing other things day - and today I have had a stinking cold, so all I did was add a thought to my notes - better than nothing, and made me feel connected with the plot and characters.

On Wednesday night I was explaining to some chums what had happened (agent interest etc) - and there was a bit of a shift in the air - I was asked questions about writing and so on, and realised a number of things.   First, which I knew, was that I don't have any creative writing "theory" so I can't talk about "story" and "meta-narratives" etc.  Second, more worryingly, is that if I am treated like an expert I am possibly going to get a bit pompous.  Thirdly, if I am successful, I could become insufferable.

This is an old realisation - first discovered at secondary school - when I was quiet and reflective, people were nice to me, when I was ebullient and full of myself I was generally told to shut up.  I think I modify my behaviour now - I don't really think I will be horrible.  It is just such an abnormal feeling to be so confident about my ability suddenly, and confident that other people will like what I do, and that the book will be published and people will read it.  It's a strange thing - the transition from one's writing being private to becoming potentially public. 

The curious (and beneficial) thing about it is that the re-writing is so intensely enjoyable in part because I know someone is waiting to read this and comment on it in a constructive way... I would be enjoying this period more if it wasn't for money worries... and the stinking cold!

A new chapter

I have now written another new chapter in the new version of the book.  I am happy because I have managed to retain some material, as well as writing new stuff without problems - except when the computer crashed yesterday...I've been managing to write all the new stuff as though it had just been waiting for me to write it, but I am still worried whether I can make this new book as good and fresh as the original was... I can't help feeling a the plot is a bit dull.   We were talking last night about books in the Belgian Bar - and how so many plots were repeated - and yet the books are still worth reading - since after all, the different characters give the plots completely different life.   I also discovered that I am currently writing a meta-narrative (very fashionable...!).

And more...

About 2,000 words yesterday - nothing today as had to concentrate on financial matters, which I am reluctant and slow to deal with... but also need a pause - have just got to a crucial bit, and realise I may have to backtrack a bit - I'm also re-thinking of the possibility of keeping the original beginning... still haven't heard anything from Agent - but steady as she goes... should work on that, instead of this, but this is just a bit of R&R from the horrors of mortgate, estimates and income and expenditure reports...and I don't know if I can work tonight - Alex says he's coming, but on 3 previous occasions he's said he would come around and hasn't.  I think I ought to have a word with him about it.

And writing

Another 4,000 words in the last few days - feeling happy.  Fortunately most of the jokes in the book are for me alone - I don't think anyone else would understand them, so no one can be offended by them.

The writing is going well - just difficult and challenging enough for me to enjoy - I do have to stop and think - and that's good, I enjoy that.  I have cast Alan Rickman as Leo - it's an interesting idea, if one has a physical idea in one's mind one can write towards it.... it allows one to incorporate bits of how one imagines the person might be - or bits of roles one has seen them in.   I've never done this before - but it seems to work.  It came out of the "Who would play..... in a film of the book..." This does not mean I am anticipating selling the film rights any time soon - but one thinks of all the possibilities... I think getting a contract with an agent would be a step in the right direction.   She is evidently still thinking about Conscience - a bit awkward if she's also finding it a bit of a conundrum.

More

Another 2,000 + words today - it's all going very smoothly.  I am rather hugging myself because the book within a book thing allows me to make all sorts of references to the autobiographical element in writing... which is an extra strand.    I decided to simply plunge in and write the new material - and the characters are doing all the right things, and being themselves, and unfolding marvellously.  I haven't yet been over it to edit what I've written - so it will all be improved in time.

It is very happy-making.  I felt positively depressed on Tuesday - now I feel quite energised again.