Another Quiet Day

Work is on slow down as we head toward November - anyone would think we break up for Xmas a month before anyone else (we don't, we only break up on Christmas Eve this year).

So in my quiet times, I've managed to do what I started doing nearly two years ago - I write.

In December 2006, I began to write my first manuscript, 'Tigers Eye' - a 130,000 word epic fantasy novel. I took me till May 2007 to finish it. A few months back I started to edit the original manuscript and found I really didn't know a lot about writing back then. It was pretty bad.

Since then I've had published, or have had accepted to be published, five fiction pieces. On top of that, I've had 6 articles printed, and numerous reviews (both online and in print). I've also just about completed the first year of my Advanced Diploma (three to go).

I am fast approaching having read 30 books so far this year which averages out to a little less than a book a week. If truth be told, I really started getting back into reading when I was accepted onto the HorrorScope team, so I've read 30 or so books in only 36 or so weeks - much closer to one book a week.

But this isn't supposed to be a round-up of what I've done so far this year - that'll come in December - this was supposed to be about last night.

I had trouble sleeping last night. I seem to be going through the brain equivalent of the drinkers issue of "releasing the seal" - this is where someone goes out for a night on the town and drinks plenty. To start with they don't need to go to the toilet but eventually they must. Once they go, they have to go on a regular basis whereas up to that point, they haven't had to go at all - hence why the term for the first visit to the loo is called "releasing the seal" - maybe you have a different term for it.

Anyway, back to last night. It seems my recent increase in creative thoughts has "released the seal" on my artistic side. I tossed and turned because an idea was formulating in my mind's eye. As I lay there examining this little embryo of an idea, I added and discarded additional thoughts, plots, and characters. I kept telling myself not to interrupt the flow, let the whole idea come out and then you can get up and write it down. Then other noises pressed in from the real world. I tried to stick with the coaxing of my new story but I kept getting distracted and then, like a bubble, it popped and went away, leaving only vague recollections like a visions from a dream on waking.

It was very disappointing to the point where I didn't get a lot of sleep for the remainder of the night. So I came to work today and gathered up the remnants of my idea and started trying to fit them back together like a jigsaw that was missing pieces and without the front of the box to help me.

I came up with an outline, a 1200 word outline - the bare bones if you will, with no dialogue or descriptive prowess. I saw a story unfold in my head and wrote down the dot points of the picture in my mind's eye.

Problem: I now have three new premises waiting to be worked on and Newland is still waiting patiently for me to return. It's not a bad problem to have - too many new ideas all at once, but where does one find the time?

I have reading to do, stuff I've promised others that I'd look at and comment on, so that has to be done. Maybe I need to just build up the ideas file for times when I suddenly do have time - I'm sure that time will come again (in about three more years when I've finished my diploma).

I've been sitting in one spot for too long and I'm now in desperate need to move about. Time for smoko.

Speak to you later.

BT