The challenge comes when I will have to make up the second chapter from scratch in a few days. With an outline, this might not be a problem. It might even be faster. As long as I write every day, I don’t see why I shouldn’t reach at least 500 words, which I would still very happily settle for. That’s the key – doing it daily. Lose the flow, and it means rereading over it all to help slip back in. Long gaps are good for letting the plot thicken in the real-time subconscious, but not when typing the draft up.
Whenever I read about writer’s harping on about their own work, it feels to me like they are squirting their smallness all over me*. They talk as if their characters really exist. They talk like they are creating something in the real world, not just arranging letters on paper. Get over yourself, I think. But the story behind the story is probably more interesting than the story itself, and most of all to whoever wrote it.
I’ll never be at the stage where NEIL GAIMAN is, taking before & after pictures of himself at his writing desk, pre- and post-shower & shave. This is not ME, ME, ME, oh no, never never never. Not unless success sweeps me off my feet and there is an actual demand from people all over the world to see me at the desk in my dressing gown. Even then, I’d wear a Hannibal Lecter mask, to make it more interesting, or goofy joke shop teeth. I'd have to get a dressing gown, too.
What this IS, however, is HAZEL, HAZEL, HAZEL. I’ll tell you that now for a fact. All I know for sure, so far, is that when she’s not in holographic form, she wears either a business suit or chunky black steel toe-capped boots. Whichever, she’s on my mind, and I have faith that she’ll come good.
*A quote from John Siddique, poet.