Back to it with pens and prayers
I could sit at this desk forever, not necessarily writing The Novel, just noodling around with planning, internet writing advice, zoom networking and playing with my many many-coloured pens and egg-timers. Permission given to cancel extraneous events, which now includes exercise and socialising. What more could an overly active recluse want?
The Novel has actually benefitted from all this desk-love, to be fair. If all the padding is indulged, I do, eventually, open the scary Word document (I dispatched with Scrivener after a catastrophic re-formatting experience) and tap in the next bit or fiddle around with the last bit. Getting carried away is a virtue and a vice, but it has led to me declaring in my various planners (bullet/planner/journal) that I will be finishing the section where The Siblings visit our Main Character THIS WEEK. To get to the siblings, I have to finish Epiphany’s revelations. There are also notes about Ash Wednesday, which is leap-frogging a bit, but they need integrating before they detach themselves and disappear into the out-of-sight, out-of-mind twilight world.
As you might guess from the sections described, the church year unites with the climax of The Novel. Now, that may not sound exciting to you, but for me it releases a deep and nourishing stream of association and metaphor. Just how do I make the reader as convinced as me, without undergoing a dramatic High Anglican conversion like our Main Character? I guess this dilemma is making me pause, scratch my head and reach for The Book of Common Prayer rather more than otherwise.
Agonising over structures, characters, setting and all the mechanics of writing is redundant now it’s a case of full steam ahead to the end. How far away can I be until I can send something edible to my mentor and would-be agent? I’m nearly sixty-seven, so time is ticking on.
After a gap of eight years, renewing acquaintance with this blog, sending writerly hellos into the digital world, feels like a step in the ‘getting it finished’ direction, and who am I to argue? Next time, I hope to to have word of a finished first draft. In the meantime, back to staring out my window, playing with my pens etc.