A reasonable distraction
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In November of 2007, I started a blog website. It was a slow burner at first, but by January the following year, I'd built up a pattern of sorts. For years afterwards I'd aim to write two blogs a month on all manner of random topics. But for a couple of months it went well. Some posts were better than others but I managed to write them and, for me, that was the main point. It kept me writing and, as a writer, that's what I wanted to do.
That stopped about a year and a half ago. I’ve only posted a few blogs since, and just one in the last year. There were various factors behind this but the main ones were that, after five years, I was running out of subjects to talk about and I was too busy with other things. Since then my blogs have been rare and intermittent. I'm adding a new one now by way of an explanation, at least for why I haven't written any new ones in the last year.
I'm writing something else. It's that simple. I love blogging when there's something to say, but while it is writing, it's not the sort of writing I really want to be doing. When there isn’t something to say, it’s also both difficult and pointless. I'll happily write the odd one every now and again, but every blog I write is writing time I could be spending on other projects that, to me, are more worthwhile. Lately those projects have been novels.
In March I came up with an idea for a short story. Like most of my stories, I didn't expect to finish it. I have a habit of getting distracted and going onto something else. I enjoy the initial buzz of starting something new, but once I’m settled in I let myself get distracted. The same was kind of true with this one initially. At some point I left it for a while. It wasn't until the end of May that I went back. From then on I found levels of discipline I've never had before. Some days it was hard as hell, but for the most part it was still enjoyable and the reward was watching the story grow. Somewhere along the line, quite early on, even before the ‘break’, I added a scene that expanded the story beyond being the 'short' thing I first had in mind. Suddenly I had a novel on my hands and I had to get the thing written while the discipline held.
It was hard, but somehow I stuck with it. Between my lunch breaks and spare time I kept adding and adding until, 115,000 words later, in mid-August, I crossed the finish line. For the first time ever I had a full first draft completed. The thing I finished wasn’t anything like the thing I had in mind when I started, but I suppose sometimes that’s how these things work. Two people have read the first draft so far. Neither of them are me, but the feedback has been positive all the same.
As I write this, months later, I still haven't read it, but there are good reasons for that too. After a weekend off when I'd finished that first novel, I started on a second. This one started well but lost its way during an ill-advised week off. At 51,000 words I left it to start something else. I may go back to that one later but for now I'm working on what would turn out to be the sequel to the first novel. This one crossed 100,000 words yesterday and is close to completion after just six weeks. After that, I'm in full editing mode on both for the rest of the year.
I’m a couple of drafts away on each one from having anything I would feel comfortable submitting to agents or, scarier still, publishers. I fully expect rejection after rejection if I pursue this. But, for now, I’m feeling reasonably good about (almost) having two written novel manuscripts. Before this year the longest thing I’d ever written was an unfinished attempt at a novel that lost its way before it hit 30,000 words. Two have written two-and-a-half full length novels in the last six months is something even I struggle to process. But anyway, that’s why I’m not blogging. When I have more to say, I will. But for now, and probably for the foreseeable future, I have another chapter to write.