I've been working on the synopsis for the novel and have been having, now familiar, feelings of ups and downs about it all. Yesterday lunchtime I was full of it, back on track and enjoying adding all the new elements and thinking it would be a fun book, it was going to be great. I might be able to be a writer after all. By the evening I had gone completely the other way, no story, not enough (eugh) plot, the heroine's a stupid idiot etc etc.
Today it was hard to get going, lots of fiddling around, feeling guilty because I should really be doing the web work which is real income. I was hoping to have it all done and away by tomorrow afternoon. Woke up with some important changes this morning, which will, hopefully, make character more realistic and sympathetic and less of a slapper. The problems I had to address were as follows:
first person to third (done)
too episodic, needs stronger central plot, more tangible, to make the episodes tie together (think have done. I have reduced the characters to the barest minimum and have them appearing in different places instead of solely in their b/g places).
Trickiest part a bloke called Anton (Anton's been binned, have nicked his looks, though, for the other bloke, Stuart). (NB: Anton's looks initially nicked from a magazine article about an actor. Journalists are very good at summing up how people look.) (NNB to journalists: By time of final draft, description will not be in text but hopefully character will have morphed into its own version of it.)
Needs strong sub-plots (well, there are a few now that weren't there before.)
Need more of a sense of who main character is. Her personality. Her inward struggle. (think have done this).
Need more info about the family (now there's LOTS of family. Family are very handy as they can pop up all over the place without question.)
Now I will leave it for another day and see if I wake up with any more tomorrow. I'm so keen to get it off. But if it's sent too soon that would be a major error.
My other writerly dilemma is whether to share a funny thing my daughter said in Shropshire. Is it fair to broadcast your children's funnies to the world like those awful women columnists? If she found out she might clam up and never say anything to me again. Oh well here goes:
We'd been visiting Acton Scott, a Victorian theme farm. http://www.go2.co.uk/for/ActonScott-Hista.html I normally hate these sort of places but this one is really good with lots of 'smell-moments': stables (straw, shit, hoof oil, leather can't get enough of it); inside an old wardrobe (resin, wood and dust), a cottage coal fire (winging me straight back to childhood sitting room). Daughter and her friend had been able to milk a cow by hand, when her father asked her what it was like she said straight out, 'Like a boy's penis.'
Bye bye, thanks for visiting, come again soon.