Friday, October 31, 2014

Just weeks away

I'm the wrong side of a bottle of red, plus an almost out of date Carling that had been reduced and I bought because it's Friday and needed a beer for my delayed train home. Anyway, I realise I've not blogged for, erm, two months, but then I'm writing the mother of all blogs by turning all my angst into a novel. Except it would've been too easy for me to just put everything in chronological order and leave it at that. Oh no, I had to weave a fucking narrative into it, and turn it into some kind of journey as if any of this is meaningful to anyone.

Anyway, I'm now 40 pages shy of the end of Draft 4, and drunk, and it's probably it's most readable yet*  
*This still doesn't make it Wuthering Heights, but you get the point.

Suffice to say, this is definitely going to be published. I was planning on a Draft 6 as well as Draft 5, but I can't take it and may slit my wrists before then. I mean, I'm happy with it, but I also can't live like this any more. I've spent years working on it and I want my life back - which is ironic, as I barely had one.

So, "sorry" for not blogging, which I understand has bothered absolutely no-one, but this has consumed me. Here is a picture of my chair at work yesterday, no longer able to take the weight I've gained since I gave up the gym in order to write.

Behold! The sight of success:

If I can pull my finger out, I'll edit/ re-write this final 40 over the next couple of weeks. I've got a few more proofers to check it out (thank you Nix and Kaiser, who I'm certain has totally forgotten), and if I can somehow strain Draft 5 out in a matter of days, I may - may - have this ready to put out there by December.


Normal service will resume soon, though I'll probably become an annoying marketeer for a sub-par story that renders every blog post from now on an advert.

At least I can say I've tried hard not to just wham my posts together. Seriously, if I did that, this would've been over about two years ago. And once this is done and I sell twelve copies, look out for my bloated corpse being fished out of the Thames soon!

Thank you all.