Friday 25 October 2013

Post Draft Blues

It's one of those moments you long for with a passion akin to little else. The moment when you have finished that first breathless headlong, don't stop to judge, romp through the first draft of the book. The moment when you can put 'END'. The only thing that has kept you going has been the mantra that you have to write something to edit it. That and the fact that you have a deadline with your editor.

What then? Then, you promise yourself, you will have a few days off. To catch up with the housework, or fetch out that embroidery you half remember starting, to go and see other humans and confirm that you and the dog are not the only beings on the planet. Anything but sit in front of the screen and sweat blood as you churn out those first all-important but usually rubbish words.

So that was me a week ago. The first draft of "Croaking of Ravens" was done. I determined I would have 7 days of doing precisely what I wanted to do, the things I dreamed of when I was tied to the keyboard in the 30,000-60,000 patch soggy slump. So, what have I done with this wonderful freedom? Nothing. Nada. Zilch. I've had to fight the habit of finishing my breakfast coffee and walking up the stairs to my office. I've read several books, all the time feeling guilty that I wasn't pounding the keyboard. A week is a long time not to write. I've managed 5 rows of the back of the cardigan I started 2 years ago. Tried to listen to some audio books. Been trapped because my other half needed my car for the week. But would I have gone out if it had been available? Probably not.

The truth is I want to start the first edit. I'm bored although I haven't resorted to daytime television - probably because the telly room is in the basement and I would have to decide that I actually wanted to watch telly. Which I don't. Found the cross-stitch but not the threads, which is just as well because at 36 count linen, the light is nowhere enough to see properly. Even the dog has caught my mood and has had his naughty head on for every walk we've not enjoyed this week.

So, what to do about it. Today, I thought, I WILL do something. Until I saw the weather. I may be bored but I'm not stupid enough to get soaked and chilled. What are my choices, I wondered? And then it hit me. The whole thing about this week was that I should do what I wanted. I want to begin editing "Croaking of Ravens". So I will. Here we go again. Wish me luck.