With a deadline looming, I’ve
been working away at getting the final draft of my Marcus Marcus blog novel written up and ready for a print edition in 2015 / 2016. While the
blog version is a great read – full of verve and colour – I realised it needed
an entirely new opening sequence to anchor the story. So, armed only with a
pencil and notepad, I stepped once more into that realm of demons, spaceships,
treachery, perversion and bloodshed.
It took two week but finally I
finished the new beginning. At 12,000 words in length it not only added a new boldness
and brightness to the tale, but it helped me understand what parts of the
original text needed to be changed to keep that bold narrative flowing. The
changes needed were not drastic and I was confident that another two or three
weeks would see the final draft finished.
The first of these new changes
involved one sentence in one paragraph describing the palace and estate of the
hero Marcus Marcus. It was a simple enough task, and yet for the life of me, I could
not work out the words needed. The more I tried, the more any solution eluded
me. I sat, stood, danced, sat again but could not figure it out. The sentence
defied me, refused to let me change it in anyway whatsoever. It grew as twisted
and complex as a rubix cube; it sprouted thorns and snagged my skin.
That one little line of
letters transformed into a monstrous barrier separating
me from my deadline. All day I fretted and fashed and bashed my pencil on the
paper. Nothing. That night I dreamt I was on stage but when I opened my mouth I
could not speak. I woke with a stab of panic in my chest and nausea churning in
my belly. A week went by and still I could not surmount that vast bristling palisade
of vowels and consonants.
Finally I did want any sane
person would have done long ago. I gave up. I took two days off and did fun
things. As always I had my pencil and journal with me, ready to jot down any
random thoughts or observations, but apart from that I was free of the written
word. In Coole Park I tried to catch autumn leaves
with my children, a very tricky task. As leaves drift down to earth, they seem
to fall slowly. But no matter how hard you try, and how precisely you position
yourself in their path of descent, they will always flutter away from you at
the last moment.
As we walked, ran and snatched
and laughed at elusive teasing leaves, my youngest (aged four and three quarter
years) told me he had learned to spell his first word. I was impressed and
asked him what it was. With a wicked grin he spelled out ‘F. U. C. K.’
‘Well,’ I explained, with
barely a pause, ‘now you should be able to spell a lot of other words. How
about muck?’
My wee man repeated the word,
sounded it out slowly and then spelt out ‘M.U.C.K’
‘Maith thú!
How about suck.’
‘S.U.C.K.’
‘Brilliant! And duck?’
‘D.U.C.K.’
‘Luck?’
‘L.U.C.K.’
Having increased my youngest
son’s spelling skills and (once more) thwarted my eldest son’s ambitions to
turn his wee brother into the foulest mouthed member of his junior infant
class, I decided it was time for tea and biscuits.
As the boys drew pictures and
flicked through books, I took out my journal and rewrote the sentence. The new
version was a bit clunky but the order of words was correct. I scribbled down
some thoughts on other changes needed in the text, then put the journal away.
My writer’s block was over and I still had a full day and evening of relaxation
ahead.
I realised I should have done
this much sooner, took time out after finishing the new 12,000 word intro to
celebrate what I had achieved, but
I figured it out eventually and now my little holiday I’m back writing the final draft. This
morning I wrote up the new sentence, and more besides. At the moment though I’m
working on an equally important task - putting together a list of words that rhyme
with fuck. I suspect they will be needed before too long.
* * *
For links to advice on study, research and exams
check out Study, Research &Exams! - A simple survival guide
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