Pretend there were some updates in there somewhere.
Not much writing done, as I slammed into the problem of realising that I didn’t actually know my characters all that well. I also got sucked into research, which is a dangerous thing if you go to the internet instead of the library. I mean, at least the library closes! Got going again thanks to some amazing help from The Flibberatic Skreebles who read over my first chapters and gave me some awesome feedback.
The joy of having someone look over your work when you know it’s not quite right is that moment when you feel like absolutely the most stupid person in the world for not realising what was wrong with it without having it spelled out for you. Eventually you can acknowledge that if you’d known what was wrong with it you wouldn’t have done it like that in the first place, but there is that period of “wow, I am thick”. Or is that just me?
So with a little help from Dom, my story has redirected itself. There’s sub-plots stormed up the rankings of importance, and one that I feel like I need to get rid of. The two main characters are vying ever more for my attention, and want to know whether this is a story about a man who gets over a broken heart and finds the courage to love again and to make his own dreams come true, or a story about a man who has seventy years of imposed solitude shattered and has to overcome his fears to start living again.
The pile of notes has grown, as has the pile of research texts. I now have nine books out of the library, which hasn’t at all contributed to the slow pace of writing. Also not contributing at all is the sudden resurgence of Jack and Ianto from Torchwood in my mind, reminding me that I’ve left one of their stories hanging for about two years and really ought to get on with it. Bad characters, no cookie.
Tomorrow, I get my kitchen table back. Tomorrow, I write.