I have read so much advice on what I should be doing.
I should be plotting. My writing should be character led. My character should have a strong original voice. I should hook readers in from the first page. I should write with the reader in mind. I should write from the heart. I should be reading; contemporary fiction to gauge the current mood. I should write; write anything to hone my art. Practise makes perfect.
I am now at the stage where if I follow the advice, some of it contradictory, I will end up with a book that is a poor carbon copy of what is already out there. I don't want to write a book that follows a set formula, with a mystery and a conflict and a diversion, suspense, unforeseeable twists and resolutions. I don't want to write a book that readers will race through to see whodunnit. I want them to enjoy the journey, to savour every word. I want to create pictures with words; characters with depth and life in them. I want to write a book that readers will enjoy reading, characters that they will come to know, and experiences that will stay with them, at least for a couple of hours.
The very little feedback that I have had so far from literary agents is that my opening chapters fail to hook them. So in this, I have succeeded. It was never my intention to hook - I want to pleasantly draw in the reader, settle them down gently, and introduce them to their surroundings, making them feel comfortable before the drama begins. I could rearrange the chapters, so that the drama starts sooner. But I want to create a three dimensional story, where the reader becomes part of the landscape and the time in which the story unravels.
But this, it seems, is not going to get me an agent. Once again, I find myself at a crossroads, where I could continue on my chosen path, dig my heels in and sing "I'll do it my way", and see how far that gets me. Or I could sell my book soul and conform, follow the main road in the hope that I will eventually get there. I suppose that this makes most sense, reacting to the market, creating what is being demanded. But it doesn't sit comfortably with me. The other alternative, which I have been running through in my head for a while, and which was verbalised by my youngest daughter L this week, is to accept that perhaps 'The Magpie' is not meant to be my debut. And that the book which I am writing now is perhaps 'the one'. And it is possibly also the sensible option, because I am learning through writing. In 'The Magpie', I have found and developed my style, learnt valuable lessons and have a better understanding of what works and what doesn't. Maybe in time I can come back to it and it will be recognised for its merits and craft, which perhaps do not shine through in its debut form. And I also now have some prior knowledge of what agents are looking for, and can write with this in mind from the outset, without compromising my integrity. L said that it doesn't have to mean that my first book will never be a success, just that I should try putting 'The Magpie' on the back burner. When she eventually puts down her mobile phone, and her makeup brushes, she amazes me with her insight and wisdom.
So I will wait to hear from the agents I have already approached, but not make any new submissions just yet, so that I can focus on writing my second book, the working title of which is 'Just Be Kind'.
Having declared my intention to get back to writing after the distractions of Christmas, I have not done so well this week. There have been new distractions - one of them being a book which Mr C bought me for Christmas which has had me gripped. 'Career of Evil' by Robert Galbraith, who is really JK Rowling. I have finished it now, but it was very hard for me to drag myself away. And then on Friday night, my 3 year old great niece came for a sleepover, and was an absolute delight. We made pizza, drew lots of pictures, played games and read books until we were all worn out. We are hoping for a repeat performance soon. And then on Saturday, Mr C said he was taking me out for lunch and that I should wear something nice (no offence....). It was all a bit cloak and dagger but I didn't really think any more of it. We went to the Windhover, which is a nice pub near Boughton Crossing. He tried to push me in through the door, as he always does, but I stepped aside so he could go first, as I always do, and there standing by the bar was Singapore Sally! They had set me up; what a lovely surprise it was. We had lunch - all 3 courses of it, and drank lots of gin and tried not to feel Slimming World guilt, and stayed there for 7 hours, reminiscing and laughing and making plans for our forthcoming 50th birthday celebrations. And then when we had to go, it was very sad, and I told her that she has to move back to Northampton (as I do every time I see her) and she smiled a sad little smile, as she always does. Being friends with her is so easy in almost every way, apart from the goodbyes. Our friendship is now easier to maintain with FaceTime and Skype, and it doesn't seem like there is such a gap between our conversations any more despite the 7 hour time difference. When we were 18, she moved to Leeds and lived in student digs, with no telephone for years. She rarely came home and we could only communicate by letter. We went months without speaking, but we weathered that storm, and it paved the way for the trauma of a long distance best friendship, which is what we have had ever since. I still wish she lived in the same town, or even the same country, although even if she did, we probably wouldn't speak any more frequently than we do now.
And then on Monday, I went to Beckworth Emporium for lunch with two lovely ladies with whom I used to work. And again, the time flew and it was all over far too quickly. Caz, another old friend is making arrangements to come and visit soon - we haven't seen each other for almost ten years, but lived in each others' pockets at Uni. She asked me if I am having a party for my birthday (I had one for my 40th), but I told her that these days, I couldn't fill a hall. I lost a lot of friends in the divorce.
There are some friendships that fizzle out, and this is always sad, but what you are left with are these amazing strong bonds with people who you REALLY love and want to be with, and I am so lucky and happy to be left with only a few, but absolutely fabulous high quality friends.
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