A Change of Perspective

We all know that different people can watch the same event and yet perceive things differently. That is what makes us such unreliable witnesses.

And that got me wondering about my characters. They each have their own view of events - they each see the world in their own way.

So I wondered what would happen if I took an old story of mine - one that hadn't quite worked out but was still gnawing away at me not to ignore it - and told the story from a different perspective?

How different will that story become?

One chapter in and I can already see it is a very different beast. This is going to be an intriguing experiment.

Metamorphosis

The first draft is the caterpillar, munching its way through the vegetation, laying down words like layers of fat. It grows bigger and bigger, lumpy and spiny and vaguely formed, until it is huge and bloated. The first draft is complete.

Then comes the chrysalis - the editing process. The internal tissues are broken down and reformed. New structures are added, others removed. Flabby prose is deleted and replaced with colour and richness. A little fine tuning and it is ready.

The pupa splits open and the butterfly emerges, fanning its new wings in the spring sunshine – a creature almost unrecognisable from that clunky caterpillar. One final check and it is ready to fly.



Click on ‘send’ and off it goes.

A Fresh Perspective

Every day the sea is different. In fact it can change within hours – one moment a mirror like calm and then a storm can blow up seemingly from nowhere and the waters are heaped into spray streaked mountains.

Sometimes it’s not so easy to spot the changes - soil creep on a hillside. Have things changed since I last climbed up here? I’m not so sure.

It’s when you go back after a time away that you start to see the differences. You spot where the winter floods have changed the course of a stream, or a rotting tree trunk that is now covered with cramp balls.

Or in this case that the cliffs have crumbled back a little further.


In the same way I’m taking a break from my WIP. I’ve promised myself that I won’t even look at it for this entire month. That way when I read it once more I’ll be coming to it fresh, and if anything isn’t right I’ll (hopefully) spot it.

And anyway, it’s fun to do something different, to dabble with new ideas, meet new characters and explore new settings.

No writing time is ever wasted time.

The Lightning Bolt

I knew in my heart that something wasn’t right. My inner editor was whispering to me. Only I had no idea what the problem was.

So I set off over the cliffs to mull things over.


There’s nothing like a blast of salt spray air on your face, the running tide and the blustering wind to make everything clear.

And as I watched the whitecaps rush in and crash against the rocks it hit me.

Motivation.

Not my main character’s motivation. His motives have always been quite clear, but that of one of my minor characters.

And as I worked out what was driving her, the whole thing fell into place – suddenly the plot had a structure that until now it lacked.

My inner editor can sit back (for now). But my work has just begun - this WIP needs some serious editing.

After We've Gone

There's something about old discarded farm equipment that fascinates me. It's lying around all over the place - in thickets beside the fields, by old gateways, or in a clump of nettles by the side of the footpath, like this one.


I wonder how long it's been here? It hasn't been moved for a while and it's reddened with rust. The nettles grow around it in a feral, stinging clump that rises in a mound from the sheep nibbled turf.

Maybe, though, it hasn't been here as long as we might think. And I can't help wondering how long it would take, if our civilisation crumbled, for the only remains to be hulks of rusting metal, like this, the purpose of which has been long forgotten.

Candles and Christmas Trees

Christmas is almost here – racing up on me – every time I blink it’s a little bit closer. The school holidays are about to start. Let the festivities begin!


Looking back over my recent blog posts I see I haven’t been telling you very much about my writing. That’s probably because I don’t have anything big or exciting to report. I’ve spent the year rewriting, and rewriting. And between the rewriting I’ve been working on the WIP.

I have to have something on the boil in the background. Whenever I’m waiting to hear back about the first novel I can open the file and vanish into a different world, re-acquaint myself with a new set of characters, and stop worrying about what happens next.

And now here I am, as the year draws to a close, and I’ve just written those wonderful words – ‘The End’.

It’s a first draft – very rough I admit and I need to give it a thorough working over. But everything I’ve learned over the past year has gone into it – and you know what? I’m really quite excited about it.

Will it fly? Who knows? Will 2012 be the year? I hope so.

But for now I must mull wine and bake mince pies. I’d just like to wish all my blog readers a Merry Christmas and wish you all publishing success in 2012. Thank you for joining me on my journey.

Murphy's Law

Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.

I use this law all the time when I write. It doesn’t apply to me of course – it applies to my poor unfortunate main character.

Every time I put him into a new situation I think to myself: ‘What can possibly go wrong for him here?”

“Please, please,” he begs. “Can’t I have something go my way for once?”

But where would the fun be in that? Can you imagine what a boring story that would make?

“Sorry,” I reply as he clings to the rock face by his fingernails, the sea churning beneath him. “It would be far too easy to just let you climb out of here.”

His fingers slip. He falls…

Splash.

There. Get yourself out of that one!

Melting Snow

The snow is melting as the year draws to a close. 2010 has been an exciting year for me as far as my writing is concerned - signing with an agent being the highlight, but I also attended my first literary festival and had my success in the Yeovil Prize, as well as doing well on the short story front.

Who knows what 2011 will bring. I'm starting on a journey into uncharted waters (uncharted for me at any rate). It's a new adventure - like my new WIP. My heart beats a little faster and I can't wait to find out what happens next.

Cooking up a Sequel

I’ve made very little progress on DF over the past couple of weeks. And this is why.

You see, my Agent (can you see the big smile as I say that) has asked me to think about a possible sequel for WRRW (which now has a new title but I’ll stick with the original acronym for now).

And that’s what I’ve been doing.

There are so many possibilities – different options – different ways the story could go. The trick is to pick the right mix of ingredients – a bit like inventing a recipe – does that ingredient work – if not take it out! I may think up a couple of characters – only to morph them into one. I may completely change a section of the plot because I’ve thought of something better.

I’m one of those people who like to outline anyway, so it’s not too hard.

But of course, this is a story that may never be written. WRRW still needs work. And then it will need to find a home. So we’ll just have to wait and see.

In the Footsteps of Vikings

Sometimes a throwaway comment is all it takes. A chance word and from nowhere a new idea springs into life.
This time it happened as we sat round the fire in this Viking Longhouse chatting, while the kids were outside ploughing the fields (I'm not making this up - they were - but as there weren't any oxen they had to pull the iron age plough themselves)

A casual comment from one of the archaeologists and a whole new dimension to my WIP sprang into my head.

I've been trying to work out how to fit it into the story, except I can't. It wouldn't work. The plot doesn't need anything so major.

But then I realised that it would make a fantastic sequel, notching up the tension and the stakes tenfold.

I've never done this before - I normally put everything into the story I'm working on. But this case is different. I'm barely 10K words into DF and already I'm planning a sequel!

And for anyone who is wondering this Viking Longhouse is at the Cranbourne Ancient Technology Centre.

And So It Begins...

When I wrote my first novel I started with a character and a setting, nothing else. I sat down and wrote and let the story take me where it wished.

The novel rambled. It wandered off at a tangent and when at last I drew it to a close the ending felt contrived. That novel now gathers dust in the Box-Under-The-Bed.

These days I start somewhat differently. I let the idea marinade in the juices of my imagination – the characters grow and mature, the setting takes shape, the plot forms structure. I jot down notes. Soon these become an outline.

Then I start to write.

But wait. Something else is happening. When I take a closer look I realise that the first couple of chapters aren’t really needed. The third one makes a better opening. By then the voice of the piece has settled, the characters have developed. The action really starts.

What I’ve been doing is writing my way into the story.

So Chapter Three becomes Chapter One (For now).

And this is where I’m at – a new project flowing from my fingertips, the characters arguing with me in my head whenever I give them the chance. (Plus it stops me fretting about WRRW as I wait to hear if I hit the mark with my revisions).

Enough blogging - back to the writing!

Grabbed by the Throat

We drove to the Alps last week to go skiing, and as we drove through the mountains I stared up at their snow clad slopes and dark forests and allowed my thoughts to wander.

And as usual, at times like this, when my mind is empty and I’m not thinking about writing at all, along comes a new idea, sliding into my head from out of nowhere.

And as we drove and the snow started coming down it began to grow.

I’ve been buzzing with it all day, jotting down notes as they occur to me, and it’s growing, developing, taking shape like a piece of unformed clay in a potters hands. At first it was one story, but now I see it could be a series.

And it’s exciting. It’s very exciting.

But I’m not ready to write it just yet. Let it mature a little bit longer, like a good wine.

And anyway, I’m right in the middle of writing WRRW, and that one isn’t about to let me go.

So many stories – so little time to actually sit down and write them!! This one is just going to have to be patient!