Monday, 22 March 2010

On Not Writing

I’ve been trying not to write anything creative lately. I’ve gone two weeks already, I'm hoping for three. But I’m not very good at it. (I’m often not very good at writing either, but that’s a whole other post).

I’m attempting to gain some space so that when I return to take another long, hard look over the latest draft of my third novel, The Lives of Ghosts, I’ll be more likely to see it as a reader might. That’s the idea anyway.

In the meantime, I’m not letting myself anywhere near brand-spanking-new novel 4 either (despite its muttering) and I’m not even allowed to approach that dusty file of half-baked, half-finished short stories either.

There have been lots of fabulous happenings to keep me busy*, but mostly I’ve been trying to focus on just reading.

And I love reading. It's the most important thing - without reading, why would I write? And many of the books I’ve been reading have been brilliant*. But at the moment, it’s not enough. I’m still waking early, but instead of stumbling, zombie-style, for the coffee pot and a notebook or my laptop, I’m simply lying there, amidst the flotsam, thinking strange things or the same things, over and over again, around and back.

I miss my secret dark mornings twitching with words (even when the words were wrong). And I miss that feeling of dropping right off the edge, into a story. Those melting moments when the story becomes more real than anything else. I’m also even missing fiddling with a single sentence for twenty minutes before deleting it altogether in a huff.

I may have already cheated a little too. My brief notes scribbled on the bus (quick - while I remember!) sort of . . .grew. As did a letter to an old friend until it wasn’t really anything about us anymore.

And I seem to be blogging (/blithering) more than usual too*. Apologies for that.

My husband thinks that writing provides an outlet for me, especially for any weirdness, or sadness. He reckons it’s what keeps me (relatively) sane. Right now, he’d better watch out in case he’s right.

*details to follow in yet another post – I bet you can’t wait!


DJ Kirkby said...

It must be a form of torture to not write. It is for me anyway though mine is not self inflicted. I look forward to hearing the rest of your news :)

annie clarkson said...

sounds hard work... wish I would write as prolifically as you... hope your redrafting goes well, good to approach it as a reader...

Megan said...

Thank you ladies -

DJ, you are very kind inviting me to inflict further rambling posts (beware! I will!)and self-inflicted - I know! Really, what am I playing at?

Annie, not so much prolific as addicted and most of my scribbling gets thrown out (though I insist that the scrapping is writing too (-:)

Very best to you both and to all your wonderful writing x x

Shanta Everington said...

Ooooh, go on, go on, you tease. What's the news?

Megan said...

Oops, Shanta, have I left you expecting something exciting ..?

Talli Roland said...

Hi Megan! Just dropped by here from DJ Kirkby's blog. Looking forward to reading more!

watching9987 said...

I'm impressed, when I don't write I feel oddly guilty and lazy yet never seem to manage to reach what you appear to experiencing, a soret of inspiration through abstinance... Maybe though, if I keep working hard, it'll come.

Ordered your book today (finally), s'quite exciting... :)

Megan said...

Hello Talli - lovely to meet you. Thanks for dropping by.

'inspiration through abstinence' Nik! - I like it (though p'raps I've just been driving myself nuts (-;
Bless your cotton socks for buying the novel, I'd love to hear what you think ...

Shanta Everington said...

Hi Megan, I just nominated you for the Author Blog Awards. x(

Megan said...

Why, Shanta, that is really rather lovely of you!
Thank you tons (-:
I'll investigate on return from my Easter shennanigans xx