So – I’m coming to the end of the first draft of novel number three. There are only two more chapters left to write, I know (more or less) what needs to happen and I’m even still in first-draft-love with it. Nonetheless, I’m struggling.
In fact, my typing fingers seemed to have transformed into snails. And not just any snails. Obese, elderly snails in a going-backwards race.
This is probably partly because I have quite an ending in mind, which I’m a little scared of writing, but I also suspect that I’m on go-slow because I don’t actually want to finish. I’m aware that I’ll need to hide this one away for as long as I can possibly help it before I go back in again, on the editing attack, for draft two. And, as infuriating and disturbing as the writing has sometimes been, it’s also been such an exhilarating pleasure that I don’t want to say goodbye. Not just yet.
But there are a lot of things about to happen around these parts. There are more job things and children things that I need to focus on, and other-book things too (including finally finishing my creative writing MA and practising reading for next week’s Exclusively Independent event). I really should complete this draft – if only to begin it all over again, sooner.
But instead, what am I doing? I seem to be thinking about snails still, about how generally beautiful their trails are, and how strange their eyes and mouths, and about the snail hospital my sister and I ran when we were kids . . . And I’m even blogging about them too.
Please help.
5 comments:
oh, how lovely (the snails), even snails get there in the end. I have a theory about snails that actually they speed up when we're not looking. I have snails in my house sometimes (which I'm not very happy about) and I'm amazed by how quickly they can get across the room.
well done for nearly getting there. I think it's understandable to be sad coming towards the end...
Tricky one that, putting the draft away to fester...
Snails are okay...garlic butter?
Ooooh you are so busy! Love the bit about snails and now I want to read something you've written about snails please... xo
A snail is climbing up the window-sill
into your room, after a night of rain.
You call me in to see, and I explain
that it would be unkind to leave it there:
it might crawl to the floor; we must take care
that no one squashes it. You understand,
and carry it outside, with careful hand,
to eat a daffodil.
Fleur Adcock - 1964
Thank you everyone!!
Hello OrLaNd ( :
Annie, thank you for your words of wisdom - 'even snails get there in the end' - yes we will!!
But Jon, if we don't, it'll be garlic butter and salt and those mini Barbie-sized forks all the way
DJ - you are lovely, but don't tell me to write more about snails, I have too much to do (even though I want to now)
Welcome Mairi and an enormous thank you for that very amazing poem - that's rather marvellous
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