A dictionary of the extinct language of ancient Mesopotamia has been completed after 90 years of work, according to the BBC. Wow, 90 years. At the rate I’m writing, my own novel won’t be complete for another 90 years and, unless some life enhancing drug is made in the next half century, I’m pretty sure I don’t have 90 years left.
The first draft was easy, my motivation was to write THE END after 80,000 or so words and there, draft number one is complete. I did a sort of edit – let’s call it edit 1.5 – and now I need to do a thorough edit, edit 2.0, the kind of edit that means cleaning up the inconsistencies, tightening and developing the plot, kicking out characters and making my protagonist just a tad more likeable.
Oh, now doesn’t that sound like a lot of hard work to you? Yes, yes it does. But don’t feel sorry for me – there are squillions of writers out there working on their books in a bid to get published (I just typed, punished instead of published – Freudian slip?). They’re at it day and night, slogging over prose, paragraphs and pages. Because they’re passionate and they want their name in print.
I want it too, but do I want it badly enough? Hmmm. I know that once I sit down and start reading my script, ‘cos it’s been a good long while since I did that, the enthusiasm will come flooding back and I’ll return to my writerly ways – and the numb hand I get from using the computer too much. But I keep delaying it, it feels too much like homework now and there’s always a distraction. So, my mid-year resolution is that I’m going to start work on my writing – either on this script or the beginnings of a new idea (and I don’t have many of those!) by the end of July. This is TOTALLY achievable and if I haven’t popped a post up to say “Yay, I’m writing again!” by then, feel free to kick my cyber arse into literary purgatory.