My novel started out, originally, as a quick romp. It was going to be a nice, relatively small, fun escapade that would get me writing without having to do anything massive. Proving that in the world of writing you can never expect what’s going to happen next, it’s ended up somewhat different from what I originally intended. After a frenetic week of rewriting and plugging of gaps, there is a small amount of housekeeping, rewriting and tweaking that I want to do this weekend- but after that, I am finished for this phase, and I enter the even more frightening phase of sending it out to people and seeing what they think of this patchwork quilt/Frankenstein’s monster that I’ve built. And the final total that I’ve gotten to is… 412 pages, and 186,494 words. It somehow swelled nearly 30,000 words in the last week and a half. I am, as they say, agog. Of course, the next thing I’ve got to do is try to turn them into 186,494 words (or less) that someone’s actually going to want to publish, but I am hugely proud of what I’ve acheived. This morning, I was mainly writing the epilogue of the story- and there were a few moments where I got that wonderfully weird sensation where it started writing itself, the characters started speaking to me, and stuff I never would have expected myself to think up started appearing in my head. It also ended up a lot better than I was expecting, and it’s strange to think that- bar some reshuffling at the weekend- the story that I first thought up in 1999 is actually written down in a complete form. The process from hereon in is still going to be difficult, but I feel better that I’ve at least gotten this far and am still standing.

Also, it’s the last day of my time in the wilderness, and I’m really going to miss being here. The third week alone proved to be tough, but I bounced back eventually, and overall it’s been surprisingly pleasent. I think the idea of being miles away from anywhere quite appeals to me, and the rhythmns of the day- doing exercises, feeding the fish, watering the plants- helped me through admirably. I had some doubts before I came down as to whether or not I was actually doing the right thing, but now I know for certain. It’s been a great time, and- if everything had gone according to plan- I would currently be welcoming Dad, Linda and Tom back from their travels. Unfortunately, they got delayed for four hours coming out of Auckland in New Zealand because of fog- and that has thrown the rest of their travel plans into a bit of a tailspin. I got a call from Dad last night, as they were apparently put up in a rather grotty hotel in Singapore while they waited for their next connection, and it turns out that instead of flying down from London, they’re now going to have to take the train, meaning they probably won’t get here until 10pm at the earliest. As a result, I’ve ended up with a little more alone time than I expected, and I’ve booked a taxi to get me to the station tomorrow morning, as the last thing I want is for Dad to be driving around with the galactic levels of jet-lag he’s probably going to be experiencing (He was already tired when he called me!). So, it’s a little wrinkle to the end of my time here, but hopefully everything else will go relatively smoothly, and they won’t have too traumatic a trip down.

Back to London tomorrow- and I’m seriously looking forward to seeing George after all this time. The strange thing is, that I’m not even going to get much of a chance to get my bearings, as in just over three weeks, I’m off to Scotland for the Edinburgh Film Festival 2006.

It’s been a good time here, and I hope I get the chance to do something like this again- and hopefully sooner rather than later…

The damn thing keeps on getting more complicated. I’ve got a list of stuff that needs to be corrected before this incarnation of the novel is officially finished, and while I managed to cross off four things from the list today, I also managed to add four things that weren’t there previously. It’s like every time I look at it, I spot another error, or mistake, or inconsistancy, and it’s starting to drive me slightly potty. Added to this, I’ve only got one more day on my own. Tomorrow is my final day of solitude, and I really wanted to have everything out of the way, but I’m not certain if I can get there. There are some big gaps that I need to fill, and a couple of areas where I’m really not sure what to do (there’s a scene where I want to just cut the mechanics of a journey and get the character involved to their destination as quickly as possible- I just don’t know how to do it). Plus, I keep veering from thinking “wow, this is rather good” to “oh my god, this is so incredibly sloppy in places, I’m never going to get it right.” It’s just the fatigue talking, but… at least, I know this is what I want to do. I have to get this one sorted as soon as possible, so I can start on the next one. I don’t care what I have to do. I’ll find a way.

Gulp.

Destiny is a worrying thing at times.

Not much else to report, other than it’s been getting very hot, and I’ve just finished watching Season 4 of Buffy- which has its fair share of problems, but still scores above 5, 6 and most of 7 for it’s sheer level of daffy inventiveness, and the fact that they hadn’t completely forgotten how to do decent, funny standalone episodes at this point.

Oh dear. In danger of ranting. Must go to bed.

Hopefully, I’ll be a little calmer tomorrow…

A few days of radio silence, and things have been going okay. George has been very poorly this week, which has been bothering me somewhat, wanting to be able to look after her and give her plenty of hugs, but still being down here. I’ve been as supportive as possible- especially this morning, when one of her managers gave her a phone call which could, in polite conversation, be described as ‘unhelpful’. Thursday isn’t too far away- and I’m really looking forward to seeing her.

I’ve also, relatively firmly, decided that our vague masterplan for getting out of London really needs to be kicked into gear sooner rather than later. I’ve suggested a loose date of February next year- it can always be shifted, but just setting a date gives us something to aim for. We’re contracted until the end of June 2007 in our current place, but I’m at least going to find out what would be the problems or consequences of moving early. I’d rather not stay just because of the contract and no other reason…

Thursday saw my first genuine in-person conversation for a while, as my friend Tris came around for an evening of fun and bizarreness. As already documented on this blog here, Tris recently discovered the Barry Gibb ‘video concept album’ Now Voyager, and quite a disturbing thing it is too. Shockingly, it’s nearly 80 minutes long, padded out with some hilariously bizarre exchanges between the hairy Gibbmeister and Sir Michael Horden (who must have been seriously in need of the money), and definitely ranks as one of the weirdest things I’ve seen for a while. Most of the highlights are described in the entry linked above- although somehow, Tris managed to forget the video where Gibb is a prisoner in a futuristic world, and is showed his crimes by being driven around lots of projected images of his ’emotional crimes’ in a large motorised chair! (There’s even, rather bizarrely, flashes of softcore sex in amongst it all, showing that Top of the Pops was definitely not the target audience. The juxtaposition of Barry Gibb and bare breasts was a little too much to cope with…)

I was also forced to watch approximately two minutes of the ‘Making of Now Voyager’ featurette, where Barry Gibb claimed that cinema distributors circa 1984 were getting really keen on the idea of ‘video albums’ (I think once they saw Now Voyager, they realised their mistake…), and also decided to invent a new word- describing Now Voyager as ‘Pioneeristic’. That’s one way of putting it… Thankfully, Tris spared me any more pain, and I showed him the opening of Run Lola Run instead to balance out the agony a little.

Anyway, after suffering the awful majesty (and I do mean awful) of Now Voyager, we journeyed out to some of our old haunts- particularly Cornwall College, where we spent two gleefully enjoyable years doing our A-Levels. It’s all very different now- the main ‘Arts and Humanities’ block where we spent most of our time is long gone, and the old Trevenson Theatre where we did Theatre Studies and Performing Arts is now a photographic store. Time does have a habit of passing. Anyway, we had a great time, and it was fantastic to see him again- exactly what I needed after a week that’s mainly consisted of lots and lots of work.

The book is doing well- I’ve gotten a new version of the climactic action sequence done that’s even more fucked up and strange than the previous one, plus I’ve added lots of details. There’s a list of things I’ve got to try and do in the next three days- and then, on Wednesday, Dad, Linda and Tom are back- which is going to be a seriously peculiar experience after nearly four weeks here on my own. Anyway, I’m feeling upbeat, and I have a plan for the rest of the year that stands a reasonable chance of working.

Thursday isn’t too far away…

It’s alright to have bad days. It’s alright to not achieve everything you set out to acheive. These are the kind of things I need to tell myself at the moment, as I’ve had a funny couple of days. Approaching the novel at the moment keeps giving me chills about how much work is involved, and how crucial it is to get everything right- as a result, I get myself worked up, slightly paranoid, and don’t do much. Not Good. I think it’s also that I’m starting to enter the realm where I’ve been on my own for a little too long- 18 days with the bare minimum of actual human contact is a little bit much for me, but I’m going to use the remainder of time as best as I can- not in a “Oh my god, must use the time!!” way, but to have fun with what I’m doing, and to feel that I’m doing something that’s worthwhile and rewarding. Despite the fact that this is the hugest, most terrifying amount of work I’ve ever done on something in my life, and despite the fact that I’ve got a long way to go before I’m finished… I know I can do this. And I’m not intending on stopping.

I’ll hopefully be seeing my friend Tris on Thursday, all being well- and Dad, Linda and Tom are back a week on Wednesday. The time is going to go very, very quickly…

Okay- the final week of New Who. Below are my thoughts on this weeks, and a little ruminating on the series in general (with, hopefully, a minimum of ranting). Spoilers follow…

It’s done.

361 pages. 157,000 words. And a whole heap of errors, problems, inaccuracies and downright mistakes. However, I have gotten through to the end of the first draft. There’s an awful lot of work to be done, but I’m taking the next two days off, as I need to re-acclimatise myself to reality, and generally let my brain recover. It’s strange, though, to think that all the pieces are in place. They may be the wrong shape, and they may need a tremendous amount of work, but they’re there.

After the next couple of days, my next priority is to try and get the novel’s fictional world working properly,- not to the extent that it overwhelms the story, but just enough so that I know how the various galactic civillisations actually work (especially as while the current novel is a standalone adventure, it’s also potentially set up as a series of escapades for my lead character). I don’t know if realistic economics and geopolitics is my thing- but I love worldbuilding, and I want this thing to have as much detail as is possible.

It’s officially two weeks since I arrived, which feels downright peculiar, and in fourteen days time, I will be back in London. It’s been a peaceful but strange ride so far, and once I get back to it on Sunday, I want to make sure that I use the available time to the best of my abilities.

I’m very proud of what I’ve done- and I think I can see that novel that it needs to be. There’s a crapload of work to be done, but I think I can get it there, and there are certain sections (particularly towards the climax) where the storytelling gets utterly mental, and I’m actually quite excited about the idea of getting something this loopy finished to a good standard.

Tonight, I’m going to barbecue some sausages, drink some wine, and do my best to relax. Tomorrow, I may try and voyage out on an exploratory walk, to expand my horizons. And Saturday- apart from watching with a mix of mild hope and extreme cynicism as New Who comes to the end of Season 2, may be a time when I actually start to think about what I’m going to do next, and throw some ideas around about the two “Young Adult” novel ideas I’ve got- one for the girls, one for the boys, both of them pretty damn loopy.

I have a list of things to complete on the novel, and when I’ve completed it- I’ll actually have a complete, bona fide, gap-free first draft. (To be honest, certain sections are approaching third and fourth draft, but at least the whole thing will be kind of together). It’ll be a horrible mess full of errors, inconsistencies, and a whole selection of stuff that needs to be expanded, rewritten or just taken out behind the shed and shot, but it’ll be a version that’s actually finished. I then move officially from the world of writing to the world of rewriting, which- considering how I’ve spent the last five years as a journalist- is a world I’m a little more confidant with. If I can get past the ‘thinking stuff up’ stage without making my head explode, then I can usually manage the rewriting stage.

I’m making progress, and I’m doing well. Once I get it done, there will be a break, and there will be wine.

Not much else to report, except that on a visit to the nearby village, it took me a couple of looks in the newsagent to realise that the latest new glossy magazine for women is actually called “Happy”, and not “Harpy” as I initially read it.

Hey ho…

Lots of writing. Not much else. Trying to spend as little extra time at a keyboard as possible. I’ll try and update once the list that I’ve written down today has every entry crossed off.

Life is quiet, but good.

Fifteen days to go. And it’s going to go too quickly.

(Just so you know- my titles at the moment are all culled from my writing playlist- the loud, weird stuff that I listen to non-stop to get my brain going).

Okay- Week 12 of New Who, the first episode of the big season finale. Russell T Davies on script duties once again, which means the tone is all over the shop, there’s some epic stuff in the offing and a handful of genuinely cool moments- trouble is, it’s feeling like he’s over-egging the pudding with way too many ingredients (My instincts after last week’s teaser? Absolutely correct!) It varies between really good and shockingly embarrassing, and the teaser for next week didn’t really excite me. It’s fun, but it’s only an echo of the Who I remember. C’est La Vie.

Today turned out to be mainly a day of rest and recharging my batteries, although I did solve one problem with the book, and I’m all set for a mass of work tomorrow. Chapters 10 and 11 are going to have all the gaps filled in them, or I’m not going to bed. I am a determined man… (Oh yes…)

My Galatica fest managed two episodes today- the one that proves that the show’s one true weakness is comedy (there are some seriously excrutiating moments there), and the one that proves kick-ass space opera is the way to go. I’m going to settle down for a Galactica blow-out, and watch the last three episodes of Season One all in one go tonight. It’s hard to believe I’ve still got two and a half weeks on my own, and I have the feeling it’s going to go worryingly quickly. I am, therefore, going to work my ass off from hereon in. I’ve set myself targets for this time next week- and if I work really hard, there’s no reason why I can’t acheive them…

Time to go watch. More work tomorrow.

My confidence is bouncing up and down like a yo-yo. I’m not letting it stop me from writing, but I do keep looking at the possibilities facing this book once I actually hack it into shape, and they generally make me want to hide in a corner, stick pencils up my nose, wear my underpants on my head and say “Wibble” a lot. I guess I just keep seeing lots of these “first-time author becomes next-big-thing” hype machines happening in the world of SF and Fantasy, and while there’s a part of me that would love for that to happen, the rest of me keeps looking at what I’m making- and it’s an outrageous, jam-packed, nonsensical comic-strip slice of pop sci-fi that’s full of sex, comedy, romance and genuine self-discovery. (Gosh- now that I put it like that, it actually sounds quite good…) It’s just very unlike anything I’m seeing at the moment, and the fact that it isn’t designed to be completely serious- that it’s designed to be a brash, colourful and pulpy sci-fi novel that you can dance to, the literary equivalent of a Franz Ferdinand album- has me slightly worried that I’m talking utter bollocks, and people are going to take one look at it and say “The science doesn’t work and it’s all rather lightweight!” Well, if they do, they do. I’ll take it as it comes, but for the moment, I’m just going to be proud to produce a novel that’s absolutely unrepentantly 100% mine and nobody elses. I’m even getting the beginnings of genuine instincts about how it should go, and what directions to go in. There’s a long way to go- but then, I’m here alone for another 18 days, so I should be able to get a reasonable distance before I have to vacate back to the Big Smoke.

Two pieces of good news for me in the working world- I’ve got a manuscript to read for someone, plus I’ve got four days of subbing booked in for directly after the Edinburgh Film Festival. Life is going to be busy, but I’ve now almost paid my monthly wage all the way through until the end of October, which is a nice situation to be in…

Tomorrow, I battle chapters 10 and 11, in an attempt to wrestle the biggest gap in the novel under my control. I’m working my way through, slowly but surely, and I’m going to get there in the end.