How on earth does it happen?

Putting off the getting up moment this morning, Old Man and I had a writerly discussion in bed. We both admitted that, while we might know where we’re heading in a scene, we generally don’t know how we’re going to get there when we sit down to get on with it.

For me, that decision-making process is both the hardest and the easiest thing about writing. Hardest because you can dither for hours about whether your characters should or shouldn’t do the A or the B that you’re imagining for them; Easiest because actually you can just sit down and write it and then if it doesn’t work out, you can either rewrite or edit until it does.

I tell myself that there is absolutely no harm whatsoever in trying. But at a time like this, when I have the prelude to the end game of novel #2 set up, I find myself going for long walks with Morrissey blaring in my ears (this is how I think, and he is my particular muse for this novel), playing little head-movies of all the possibilities. When actually what I really need to do is stay indoors and try the scenarios out for real.

Very telling that, though. It’s not for real. It’s all made up.

Must remember that, too.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *