Writing

I’ve been writing a book now for a couple of years, I don’t write much, just now and then I have a flurry of inspiration.

I found that even though I didn’t want it to be about me, I have this awful habit of cropping up in it. My daughter has read it and said she feels like the two main female characters are the me I am and the me I should have been … I didn’t even see that but I think she had a point.

It’s a human tale of life, love and friendship more than anything and triumph mostly, triumph over adversity. There are so many Phoenix like arisings from ashes for sure.

I’ve never had the confidence to share any of it with anyone else and so today I figured as I’m in a happy brave mood I’d share a tiny bit of it, laying myself open and at the blogging community’s mercy with my first snippet. I chose this randomly by searching for a swear word and the first time it appeared in the roughest of unedited first versions I copied a few paragraphs to share here.

I don’t know that I’ll ever finish it or what I plan to do if I finish it, I’ll probably just have it bound and give it to my kids to read and save as an achievement of mine. But sharing’s good right?

I’m running off to spend a day in the sun with my handsome young son feeling nervous at even daring to put my writing out there… it’s different to blogging. Anyway its working title is Life As We Know It and this is from the first chapter called Linda.

“She had no glittering career, no discernible talents, no great intellect, she felt uncomfortable discussing social topics and felt that her first husband, nineteen years her senior, whom she’d married at the tender age of seventeen and divorced three years later had been correct in his description of her as “an ugly, useless, fat, thick fool”. She was pretty sure those were his words, maybe they’d been in a different order, the useless might have preceded the ugly, it was a while ago now, details sometimes blurred. Approaching her forty third birthday she had finally come to appreciate that this description of her, which was remarkably consistent with the description her family had slapped on her during her upbringing, was in fact almost totally inaccurate. She saw with a clarity of vision that had evaded her for years how the description had haunted her, lurked behind her every failure in life, prevented her from developing into the woman she should have been, held her back from achieving the things she had the potential to achieve. A self fulfilling prophecy sitting on her shoulder like a grotesque gremlin her whole life whispering into her ear that she was not good enough and never would be good enough for anything or anybody.

She hadn’t realized before how the gremlin had led her into every disastrous malfunctioning abusive relationship in her vast back catalogue. That it had kept her a prisoner in the overweight, uninteresting body she reluctantly inhabited and that it was the gremlin’s fault not hers that she’d abandoned everything she’d started unfinished. It was the gremlin’s fault that she’d never felt worthy of an achievement, that she had run away from happiness and it was the gremlin who had told her nobody cared so why bother, hissing it into her ear when she was awake, when she was asleep, when she was in company and when she was alone. Why try when nobody cares? In reality, she was able to conclude now, her only part to play in her disastrous life was not taking the gremlin from her shoulder seizing it by its ragged throat and stamping the little bastard to death under her size seven sensible walking shoes or more latterly piercing its heart with her four inch stiletto”

Sorry for the swearing but if you knew Linda, like I know Linda it was necessary here.

 

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11 thoughts on “Writing”

  1. I am thrilled to learn that you ‘write’, more than estactic in fact. Because that might mean, in the future, I can hold a whole story of yours in my hands. I love how you write, so honest and all of your posts write reflect it. The people who give advice say ‘write what you know’ and some say the first novel is often autobiographical. There is a ‘knowledge’ inside of us that comes out in our writing. If you write honestly, there is no way you can go wrong.

    Thanks for being brave, and sharing. 😀

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  2. Don’t bloody apologise for the swearing ! You’re doing it again, you see ? – just when you most want to be you.
    I have read so many books so very much worse. That seems like damning with faint praise; and I suppose it is, in a way. Maybe I would rather you wrote in the first person … Why not ? If you write the whole thing as “I”, it will flow so much more easily …
    And then when you’ve finished, if you feel you want to issue it as fiction you can change it all to the third person again.
    But I reckon you’ll write far more easily if you’re you.

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    1. I see what you mean but it’s got 4 key characters and tells their interwoven stories… but then it would be really interesting to see each from their own perspective I guess. I just wonder how I’d cope with the cross over when I had to say what was going on in another character’s mind. There is so much that is not me in them too… I’m going to try and see how I do. Thank you for your comment 🙂

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        1. Definitely, I think the time has come to stop writing and start organising it all and rethinking is part of that. I know there are glaring inconsistencies on the time line (with it being fiction, had it been fact they would have been more avoidable) which I need to sieve through and address. But it evolved as I wrote so what I might have half heartedly planned at the beginning changed.

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          1. It always does ! – show me a writer who says s/he wrote it all in one long line and didn’t move stuff around, and I’ll show you a liar.

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    1. Thank you, there’s 700 pages of it so far so lots to be edited and lots to share, I just add to it now and then and have done for about 3 years now… I’m like Forest Gump, one day I’ll stop and do something with it.

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