One word at a time

My ‘novel’ isn’t going well at all. So much so that I am tempted to throw it into the bin and make a fresh start. I’ve started with a character that is essentially a dork. Not good. Also far too much detail in the mundane details of his life.

There probably isn’t a need to describe the colour of their shower curtain. But I’m afraid that’s what I’ve been doing. So, I’m going to throw it in the bin. Far too much in terms of ‘back story’ and far too much in terms of giving the characters a hint of reality. This is a big mistake. Characters in books aren’t meant to eat toast for breakfast with a dodgy toaster that invariably burns the toast.

Instead I will start this time with the view point of the villain of the piece. A misogynistic, charismatic psychopath. I feel confident that readers would at least be interested in this guy rather than a weedy chap who lives with his auntie.

I’ve had a feeling of dread when it comes to writing. It doesn’t help that at the moment I’m satiated. By that, I mean that I’m blissfully happy with meditation, plenty of acting opportunities and I keep reading great books.

The curse being that whatever I read, I wish ‘I could have written that’.

I’m currently scouting for jobs too. Something that will go with my essentially ‘lazy’ attitude and fits in with my egotistical demands for dramatic roles!!


Running into the wall

This week I feel as though my brain has been deflated. I’ve really struggled to anything other than waste huge amounts of time.  I’m really struggling to work on my story. I really don’t know what to do for the best. Does one just plough through without the spark of inspiration? I felt embarrassed today because I really think I’ve got a great story here and I met a writer today. I gave her the outline of the plot (sketchy of course I don’t want anybody nicking my ideas) and she wants to read what I’ve done so far. ARRGGGHHH!

I might just write a few key scenes down or attempt one of the ‘rude’ bits of it in order to see if my muse returns.