Inspiration March 20, 2007
Posted by Jen in : Journal, Novel , 11 commentsHow odd. I keep getting stuck. Whenever I try to write my novel, or even make notes, my brain seizes, my thoughts stutter, my fingers become arthritic or my pen groans in its death-like grip.
I couldn’t figure out what my character’s problem was. I am an idiot. (Well, yes, we knew that already.) The character, of course, knew what her problem was all along; I just wasn’t listening. It’s kind of groovy when the characters take themselves off on a tangent. Or a tangerine. Or whatever.
A new idea has bubbled up. Fermented. It’s going to take a lot of research that I hadn’t considered. But it’s sort of there. I already know about it, have seen it, experienced it. I just didn’t realise that it should go into The Novel.
Two hours ago, I was almost in tears, planning to give the whole thing up as a bad job. A waste of time. But. Now the words are flowing.
I can’t tell you what it is. I’d have to kill you. Obviously. I’ve given you a tiny clue though. ‘Cos I like you.
I’m having a little drink now. As a celebration research. Dedicated, see?
Wine is bottled poetry.
Robert Louis Stevenson
