This week is busy. It includes starting a new casual teaching role at Deakin University (yay, can’t wait!), it’s my daughter’s birthday and there are a large number of other time-consuming appointments.
And I realised something.
I always fit in writing time. Always. maybe it’s 20 minutes on a train ride or editing pages on a gym bike(not recommended as it can give you a sore neck?) or saying no to something fun to go over one or two chapters.
Just one more page…
Just fix that dialogue…
Sharpen up a character’s thoughts and show their feelings through their body language… I can’t stop until the words don’t trip me over and the scene flows.
Writing a book takes so so so long for most of us. I’ve been working on this one for a couple of years and it still asks for more. Better plot devices, cleaner language, more meaningful character development.
Writing is the most demanding joyful pursuit and it makes you pay for each projects with years of your life. My life is broken up in many ways but most cleanly into what I was writing at that stage.
When this manuscript is finished I’ll get straight into the next and start this all again. The unstable first draft, the over confident haven’t-I’ve-finished-yet second draft, the third and forth and fifth draft when the story really starts to breath.
It’s marathon work with no guarantees of payment or success but 100% escapism. Each writer is the only one who can write that story their way ?