I once abandoned a novel after running out of steam. It was 2002 or thereabouts and I never thought I’d write another one. Now, if I don’t write something every day I shake like a man totally wired on espresso.
Are you the same? Not those of you who don’t write, but those of you who do. After I finished the second draft of The Fine Art of Necromancy I promised myself a moratorium on writing and ended up eating my car. I moved on, finished the novel a few weeks ago and decided it needed a supplement, so I wrote a short story which will be published within the novel. And now all that’s done, lo, I’m writing blog posts again.
Of course, I’m not going to promote this novel, that would be a ridiculous waste of time. Instead I’ll barrel on into the next one, Lords of Misrule. And continue the soundtrack to Quarter Moon and start making clothes (I’ve ordered a tee-shirt pattern off Amazon) and maybe buy a set of tin snips to make jewellery out of cast-off bits of stainless steel blagged off a bloke in Nelson. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s been approached before for scrap metal.
The other day, someone at work half-jokingly called me negative; this after I stuck on the wall a picture of a clock in protest at clocks being banned from office walls. But in part he was right. I am a negative person, disillusioned with the real world and in a permanent need to create my own. This probably qualifies the writing as a form of escapism and possibly a manifestation of some deeper psychological problem brought on by eating too many beef burgers in the 1990s. (My memory has never been as bad as it is these days.)
What was I saying? Oh, yes, writing. I’m at the stage now where I need to cobble together some lyrics for a song I’ve written and that might be my main focus when I go on holiday in a couple of weeks’ time. Lyrics are hard. Burt Bacharach didn’t do lyrics, he left that to Hal David. And unfortunately lyrics are not the sort of thing you can write in a cafe because you need the music with you and I’d look daft dragging my Mac, keyboard and monitor in here with me.
Some of you will grind away at NaNoMoMoNoMano next month. I still don’t get it and won’t be taking part. In spite of the writing itch, I still think if you have to force yourself to write something you’re not looking forward to writing, you’ll end up writing something no one will look forward to reading. That’s not happened to me yet: what to write. Although the day might soon come when I can’t remember what it was I was looking forward to writing.