Two magic little words

The End.

That's right, I reached that sweet spot where those two magic little words go in my manuscript. I've had my head down, making words on the WIP and the story's essentials have now been laid down. Yes, I know I haven't had anything to say here for a while; all the word energy has been focused elsewhere.

So that's the first draft done and I basked in the sense of achievement for, oh, let's say a day. It was great.

And now the real work (and the real fun) begins: revising.

Bring it on. I'm looking forward to it.

No, really. Although telling the story has always been my passion, as I learn more about the craft I get more and more excited at the opportunity to dig back in to a manuscript. I want to get hold of those languishing tattered bits and tidy them up; I want to peer into the holes and work out what is needed to fill them.

And I can't wait to find the hidden gems lying unpolished and overlooked in dusty, forgotten corners. It will be my pleasure to cut and polish those, and hold them up to the light so they sparkle.

Spin me out

I’m baaaack. Guess I should explain the absence: I’ve had a recurrence of vertigo and this makes it hard to read and write so I’ve been reserving the good spells for essentials like my contracted work and my WIP. You know, that ‘you only have so many hours in the day and you can’t do everything’ issue. With a twist. Or should that be spin?

I’ve still got vertigo (it’s benign paroxysmal positional vertigo – try that as a tongue twister if you dare) but it’s decreasing in severity and I’m getting longer good spells. Having some treatment, hopefully it will improve. But enough of the boring stuff, moving on.

My manuscript remains in the ‘what was I thinking?’ zone but I’m pushing forwards and making words. All writers seem to go through this with every manuscript they write; the ideas that had you chortling with glee when you outlined them now just seem really, well, dull. But as my CP said to me this morning, if it was a good idea before it probably still is and will be recognisably so again. Eventually.

Speaking of CPs – let me finish this entry with congratulations for two of mine on their recent sales. Tracey O’hara and Erica Hayes, take a bow. You rock.

I'm just not that into it

So I’m back writing again, sort of (a story too boring to share) but I’m just not into my current manuscript right now.

This makes me feel bad. Really bad. I love this story, but I’m no longer feeling it.

However, a friend emailed this morning to confess she’s having the same issue with her work in progress, and it’s making her feel bad. Guilty. Really, I think I should start a self-flagellation club for writers. Hair shirt, anyone?

As usual, though, I digress. Ahem.

Anyway it made me realise there are always times when we lose the love for what we’re working on. We have all these real-life demands and distractions and we also have a heap of new ideas dancing around on the edge of our awareness; nice, shiny, ideas. Mmm, fresh.

Ideas are easy. Fun. Stringing enough of them together, mulling over how to polish their raw potential so they really sparkle, that’s harder. It’s work. Sometimes it’s fun—so much fun it’s a wonder it isn’t illegal—but at other times it’s just work. Making words.

But making words eventually makes a story, and it’s funny how the tarnish slowly rubs off as you get closer to that magic combination of words, “The End.”

So I’m making words and hanging on to my faith that the shine will return. I’m resisting the deceptive siren song of those flirty new ideas throwing off gaudy blue and purple sparks in my peripheral vision.

I’m not taking ideas right now. I’m making words.