About three years ago I stumbled across National Novel Writing Month while taking a break from vacant staring into space and other forms of uber-passive procrastination. I toyed with the idea of taking part in 2005 and again last year only more so.
This year I gave myself a stern talking to and then when that had no effect I signed myself up anyway.
Then I told nobody about it this side of the ether-wall, though the temptation to be indiscreet was enormous and the suspicion existed that to remain silent was to leave myself safe ground to which I would retreat when the going got tough.
I also lacked resolution as the time approached to begin writing on the question of which story line from among those I've mentally sketched I would pick up and 'run' with. In the end as the last days passed all too rapidly I hit upon an unlikely genre and scenario and the thing clicked. The drawback of this approach is that writing has exposed all the flaws in the structure I set out with.
Partly as a consequence of this the quality of the output is patchy at best, though some passages probably will remain after all the re-writing now to be undertaken.
Having never considered gothic horror as a genre in which I might comfortably function the thing came together alarmingly naturally. The end is delightfully ambiguous.
I don't feel triumphant but I do feel a deliciously warm glow. In fact I might enjoy a quiet smirk or two over the course of day now. I think I have a 6:00am start tomorrow morning, so I shall be smirking on the other side of my face in twenty-four hours time.
What next?
To redraft, of course. I am bad at knuckling down, worse and really knuckling down to the tedium of taking my 'perfect' work and squaring up to the reality of all its flaws. I have too many first drafts under my belt and not nearly enough polished work. Therein my next big challenge.
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1 comment:
Hurrah for finishing!
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