A slow week and a writing epiphany

You know those slow weeks where life just continues on and nothing really interesting happens? Well, I had a couple of those in a row. So with nothing interesting happening, I decided not to bore you to tears with the inane details of my non-existent life.

Then I went on leave, and I thought: "Maybe I'll blog." BAd idea, I sat staring at th screen trying to find inspiration for a blog post and gave up. Now that I'm back from leave, I actually have stuff to say. Well, not really, but I thought I'd update you guys in anycase.

The writing wasn't going too well. I wrote a total of 3000 words for the first part of September, which is way too little in my opinion. Then I eralised what I was doing wrong, and my approach to writing changed.

I had this epiphany on Sunday: I was approaching my novel the wrong way, I had no clear direction, just a vague idea of beginning, middle and end. The process in between was pretty much an exercise in discovery writing. But this epiphany wasn't entirely life changing, not yet in any way.

On Monday I started plotting the "in between" bits, and I realised that I was glad that I waited this long to do it. Most of my plot ideas came from thoughts I had while "discovering" my novel in the first 25k words of the novel, they only had to be refined. I plotted up to the halfway mark, and the plotting made me so excited that I stopped right there and started writing again.

And this is where I realised how I wrote. You see, since this is my first novel I had no idea how I would approach writing. I've always been the "set-a-goal-and-get-there-by-any-means-possible" kind of guy, so I jumped in and started writing.

So when the next book comes around I will do the same. I will start off and write the story to get familiar with the characters and the world. As their stories take shape in my head, I will sit down and plot the rest of the novel out.

I cannot garuantee that this will work for anyone other than myself, and I cannot garuantee that my characters won't surprise me along the way, but this is my plan and I'm sticking to it.

Happy writing,

Lood

I think I have an addiction

Actually, I don't think I have an addiction, I know I have one. And I'm not talking about my love for coffee or my need for cigarettes. Nope. I have a book collecting addiction, and it is getting out of hand.

My bookshelves are groaning under the weight of books, and I keep on adding to the shelves. Usually two to three books a week and sometimes more. I cannot resist surrounding myself with that fresh paper smell that you get from opening a book for the first time, or the myriad of colours from the book jackets. A bookstore has a certain appeal, a siren call. It lures you in and drains your pocket, leaving you with just enough money left over for the month to eat a slice of bread every two days.

But I love it. I live with books, for books. If I had the space to dedicate a room to my books, I would. Yes, I'm nuts. But come on people - It's books!

Look at that - It's summer. And for that you get a portable cardboard pug

And so my favourite half of the year comes to an end. I adore Autumn and I love Winter, I find the introspective qualities of these seasons resonate the best with my personality. So I thought I'd dedicate a blog post to my two favourite seasons.

Autumn, to me, is the quintessential time for friends. (The fact that my birthday is in this season has absolutely nothing to do with it) The weather is still warm enough that you could enjoy a braai with pals outside, where the trees are turning spectacular shades of my favourite colours. But should you choose to stay indoors, there's nothing like inviting a couple of friends over, telling them to bring lots of wine and serving a supper fit for a king. For this, Autumn, I adore you.

Winter is a time of introspection, a time where a man can sit back and take stock of his life. You get to reflect on where you are at the moment, and where you want to be and judge that according to where you are heading. Winter is the time for snuggling under blankets, enjoying a good book, or movie with a glass of red wine. Bliss.

To herald in the Spring, I was greeted on Springday (1 September in our lovely hemisphere) by a message on Twitter saying: "Happy Springday. There are only 116 more shopping days till Christmas." - it killed my mood instantly, but more on my hate for Christmas at a later date.

Then a rep came in and showed us this, the perfect faux-pretentious accessory for this summer:

Yup, it is a cardboard pug that you can assemble and carry around with you, complete with the bulging eyes and the face that suggests that Skippy did not see the glass door was closed.

I mean really! WTF?

Finally back online

It has been a strange couple of weeks in internetland for me. Firstly, blogger and blogspot got blocked by our IT crowed on the same day that my home network decided that is's speed would drop down to that of a cripple indian running telegram, causing abovementioned sites to time out. So blogging was out for me.

Apparently, so was writing. I only managed to write about 1500 words in the last two weeks, an average of just more than 100 a day. It's bad. But now I'm back on track. I know where this story is supposed to go. Sort of. If the characters let me. If they don't I'm going to make them fat and kill them.

Just a warning. If you are my character and reading this and you do not want to triple in size, play along. I'm not talking again.

Otherwise I might just prematurely kill one of my babies...