As I sit back and look at the final draft of my first novel… working title It’s Not All In The Genes, without any handwritten amendments and scored out whole pages of text, I am feeling elated.
It has taken me three years and three weeks, give or take, including the odd visit from that bastard Writer’s Block.
Whether my first born novel sinks or swims is immaterial, the important thing is that I have completed it and learned from the experience.
Ideas are like rabbits. You get a couple and learn how to handle them, and pretty soon you have a dozen.
I started It’s Not All In The Genes with an idea that had been in my head for twenty years. I finished it with something along the lines of my original concept, but with much more scope and depth, fueled by the ideas that came along as I wrote it.
In the first year, I just wrote, without too much thought. I just let the words rip.
In the second year, attempting to tell the story in flashback was really beginning to test my writing skills, so I rewrote it in chronological order.
In the third year, I edited and embellished.
My mind has already moved on to my next project and I wonder how long it will take me to get inside the minds of a brand new cast of characters.
I intend to be more organised than I was the first time around. This time I will plan my new novel before I write a single word.
I will create a blueprint of where the story starts and finishes, its highs and lows as well as making an attempt to develop the characters before I start and not as I go along. Everything I didn’t do before starting It’s Not All In The Genes.
Here’s hoping for a more organised me.