The last week has been even stranger than the week before. On Sunday, while wandering through Prestwick airport I came to the conclusion that I was never going to write again - apart from blog updates and Facebook statuses. And of course journalisty things because, obviously, they pay me to do that. And Christmas cards and signing the boy's homework. But when it came to my novelisty ambitions I decided, very firmly, that I was done. I made peace with it, if the truth be told.
It has felt like hardwork lately and if the truth be told once again, it hasn't been working particularly well. I've not felt in the zone since about August - and even then it was a brief visit. So I decided it would become one of those things that I once did but didn't any more and I could always tell my children and grandchildren that "I wrote a book, or four, once, so I did. I wasn't always a doddery old dear."
In making that decision it was as if a switch flicked on (or off) and I felt lighter than I had done in a very long time. That wasn't just because I was flying at an altitude of 15,000 feet either. (Ryanair, there's a joy...).
But then, as if by magic, something remarkable happened. As I went to bed that night the ending of book five became all to apparant to me and I felt excited by it - more excited than I had done in quite some time. Certainly more excited than during the last two and a half months when I battered out a measly 10,000 words
I got up on Monday and wrote. And then on Tuesday I wrote again. I was lying, prone in bed with a fever and a cold, and I had to write - 2000 + words spewing onto the screen. And they were good words - words I felt the buzz about.
Today I wrote some more and tomorrow I will as well and now when I go to bed my brain doesn't scream "No! No! No more about the book!" - it screams "Tell me more, ah go on, tell me more!"
And even better Kitty from Book 6 is knocking on the door wanting to come in.
I think in letting go, entirely, for even those few hours, something clicked back into place and I live to write another day.
2021 Review Thingo
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Belated happy new year, comrades! Here’s the thirteenth
annual instalment of Review Thingo. All previous episodes are here. 1. What
did you do in 2021 th...
2 years ago
4 comments:
Just do it at your own pace. No worries.
Thank God for that. The world would be a little less sparkly without Claire Allan books in it.
Wow the book writing process is such a mindf*ck! I don't know how else to put it. But I am so glad you are buzzing and writing again, hooray! :)
Wow you had me worried there! Thank God you found your inspiration again. I'm already looking forward to reading it.
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