I am now working on my second novel and enjoying the exhilarating rush of creating that first draft. There is a wonderful freedom in creating new work, weaving and patching together a fresh story and I love it!
Latest Update October 2017
I have finally completed my debut novel. Several drafts later and having written, rewritten and edited till my eyes were on stalks, my manuscript is complete.
It has been the most rewarding and yet extremely daunting project but I have loved nearly every minute of it 🙂
Now the even harder process begins of trying to find a home for my manuscript with an agent or publisher….and of course whilst I am doing that I have started book 2…
So I am part way through the second draft of my novel. A bit daunting to put it mildly but exciting too. I was very well behaved and left it nearly a month from finishing the first draft before reading the whole thing fresh. This helped to give a little more distance and has made it easier to spot several things that need changing straight away. As for the rest, I’m wading on through…watch this space 🙂
I have finally finished the complete first draft of my debut novel. It has been like a marathon but I have loved pretty much all of it. In fact I feel quite emotional as I don’t feel I’m done yet with these characters. Sounds like a sequel might be in order. Now for the hard work to begin to try to polish and shape the manuscript into a real book……………………………..
I am very excited to say, I am reaching the home straight and finally the first draft of my debut novel is nearly finished. My feelings on this? A mixture of euphoria and apprehension as I know the editing, (I have worked a great deal on this as I went along, but there will be plenty more), rearranging and reworking has only just begun. Yet the finishing line is in view…….
For me, writing is an absolute luxury, an escape from the every day. As a child, I loved the fact I could venture into another world in a book and imagine for myself how the characters and scenes appeared.
When I was about seven, I wrote a book about a little island I passed on the way to school across the chain ferry at Sandbanks, it was called The Cormorant Island. Hardly a best seller, but it was a humorous tale about a little island that would appear only at low tide. This was when the cormorants would meet and stand in orderly rows to discuss important topics. They would posture with their wings outstretched in the sun but rather comically at regular intervals during the meeting, the last cormorant at the back would get washed away by a stray wave. Of course it ended up with only one cormorant left. Well, I was only little!
Since growing up a bit, I have written several articles for magazines on varying topics from the elegant world of Jane Austen to the rather more practical reality of camping.
At last, I am particularly excited to be over half way through writing my first novel. Having spent many years with several plot ideas, I have finally disciplined myself to regular writing slots and the book is coming along well. It is the most incredible feeling to be creating a fictional world into which I hope others will enjoy escaping and over which I have total control although I say total, to a certain extent the book is writing itself. I certainly didn’t plan the latest character, she sort of just came along and it seems to be working. Well watch this space anyway….
On the theme of writing as an escape, I sometimes wonder to myself if Jane Austen used writing to withdraw from the unsatisfying reality of her own life. We are told that her Mother tended to the garden and her sister, Cassandra managed the house whilst she scribbled away, creating her wonderful novels. It sounds like a perfect arrangement and one which worked for them as a family.
In the last few years of motherhood to my four daughters, during which I have graduated from laughing at Mrs Bennet to empathising with her, I have often contemplated what would have happened if Jane Austen had married Harris Bigg-Wither. He was a wealthy suitor who proposed to Jane whilst she and her sister were staying on his estate. Jane accepted him that evening but obviously spent a sleepless night regretting her decision as she then told poor old Harris she had changed her mind the next morning, leaving his house immediately. Most awkward, but as I occasionally tell my husband and children in my very rare frustrated moments (because I love them all really), I very much doubt if Austen would have written such wonderful novels if she had been running a home and looking after her children. Well, in the case of Jane Austen, we will never know.
As for me, well, my Mum and sister have other things to do rather than run my house, or garden, so I will just have to rely on the wonderful modern conveniences of the washing machine, the microwave and the occasional babysitter…..