frostfeld

Old routines Old behaviours

I’m currently sitting in a loud and busy Starbucks in Wimbledon with the intension of burning through 2000 words or several chapters before they kick me out.  

There was a time when i had memorised all the opening times and locations of the all the libraries and coffeeshops that had internet access within a 10 mile radius.  Adopting that mentality allowed me to finish writing several drafts of my novel, one novella and several short stories.

Then, for better use of a word, I became lazy and spent more time at home and lost my focus. I’ve set myself a deadline of september to get this second-to-last draft of my novel finished and printed and sent off to friends for criticism and critiques so that by Autumn i’ll hopefully be able to spend the remaining months of the year reworking and editing the final draft in time for its uploading to the kindle platform ad well as other Epub formats.  And to be able to do that i have to re-adopt old behaviours.  

So, here I am.  Wish me luck.  I’m going to need it.

The joy of text: rewriting a manuscript

Writing is fun.  Writing at it best can be noble, empowering and life changing.

But it is hard work.  Make no mistake.

Currently I'm ploughing my way though the THIRD draft of my novel.  This is not unusual.  Novels, good novels, go through countless drafts until they’re readable.  Then, once put in the hands of an editor and copywriter, the process of writing and rewriting begins anew until the manuscript is the best, leanest, most coherent permutation of the writers voice possible.

Then the book arrives in the stores and has to duke it out with ever other schlubs books.

Hard work.  Filled with writing and rewriting.  Deletion. additions, subtractions, moving…ye gods.  Who would want to do this for a living, eh?

Ah yes.  That would be me.  

Fuck.

Actually I'm wrong.  The correct analogy would be hacking slashing my way though a forest.  Because that's exactly what it feels like I'm doing.

Its fun.  But its hard work.  Make no mistake. 

Don’t even get me started about the illustrations.  Yeesh!  I need a drink.  Think I’ve done enough re/writing for one day.

After five years the final draft of my first is novel almost, almost complete. I just need some words translated from English into German, Korean, Gaelic and Japanese, then a complete read over for any grammatical errors, then I’m done. Finished. Done.
For now.
I’ve got the novel’s sequel sitting on my harddrive waiting to be edited! And it’s been there for TWO YEARS! No sleep for writers. Indeed, writers don’t sleep. We catnap!
I did it. I fucking did it. I FUCKING DID IT!! #amwriting #frostfeld #firstnovel

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This is what the raw third draft of a novel looks like before it’s edited.  

This is what days, weeks and months of hard work and sacrifice look like.

This is what the physical manifestation of self belief, courage and, for better use of a word, love, looks like.

Writing is fun, but it’s also very hard work.  In more ways than one.

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