Monday, 22 March 2010

Everyone's got one novel in them...


When I was a teenager, I could write chapters upon chapters upon chapters of story (fanfic, yes, but that's still a story!). Now I'm older and - theoretically - better, I seem to grind to a halt whenever I hit a thousand words. The result is reams and reams of short, abstract stories and a lessening confidence that I will ever write 'properly' again. NaNoWriMo would have been a great opportunity to give myself a literary kick up the arse, but is completely unfeasible with a Job and an Oli and a Social Life.

When Oli and I got back together, I made a joke that one day I would write a novel based on us (I laughed that I was going to title it 'Mice on the Underground', but that's another story entirely...). Obviously there would HAVE to be a degree of artistic license but I'm pretty sure I could create something out of it all... and at least I know the beginning, middle and ending already!

What is exceptionally helpful is the fact that, when I think back, I already see things in 'scenes', everything is pre-compartmentalised. Sometimes when I am lying half asleep, my brain starts drafting them - and they jump around: 2007 to 2008, back to 2006 and so on. This has led me to want to write it out of timeline - which I know is just making everything ten times harder, but the challenge kind of excites me! Because that's what this would be, after all, a massive challenge. Could I even do it? Could I do it well? Could I be the right amount of detached? Could I make it funny, make it real, make it readable?

Who knows?

But I do like to think about it...

So last night I was lying there, half asleep, and my mind was off in February 2007 and I thought - maybe I should actually begin to put these little vignettes down somewhere? That might be another use for the new blog, other than moaning all the time.

Plus I am blatantly not going to actually set myself to writing until I am about 50 - by which time the finer details will probably be escaping me...?

At the very least, could possibly be a nice present for Oli - I could present him with a collection of little scenes from Our Great Love Story - the happier ones, obviously, not the ones where I drink half a bottle of whiskey neat and cry...

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