Today was a day for being in the garden. The grass needs a trim and the geraniums need potting up-they’ve been hardening off for days and those are only two of the jobs that I should be doing. It is however raining-the sort of rain that soaks through everything, so I’m in my office struggling with my current WIP.
When writing a novel, I am a planner, not at punster. I like to have the story line clear in my head before I even open a new file and once I’ve done that, I write an outline of every chapter until skeleton of the whole book is revealed and all I have to do is to flesh it out.
At least that is what I say do, but in actual fact the process, as I’ve come to recognise, is much more organic. I do have a story line. I do have characters but somehow they never quite fit into the structure I have decided for the book. A character who I thought would take a main part in the narrative suddenly is less important than one who has been patiently waiting in the wings for me to notice them.
At this point everything is thrown into disorder and I find myself endlessly churning over what should stay, what go and how, if at all, I can get back to my basic concept. After some despair, some fury, some frustration I go back to what I have written, currently 17000 and begin again.
So far I’m on story plan 4. This time I think I’ve nailed it, but who knows, there might be yet another version lurking in my sub-conscious.