After the recent blip I described in my penultimate post, it's now time I just got on with the task in hand and not witter on about the whys and wherefores any more until after it's gone to my agent for her input and I know whether it has any future. I recently spent a week away without any internet access and very little to do other than get my head down. And it worked. I am now forging ahead and can see where it's heading and what needs to be done. However, the unpalatable truth about writing a novel is that for 99.9% of the time it's nor worth talking about. It's the writer, the keyboard and solitude, especially when you're a slow writer like me. There's no point being envious of those writers who can produce pages of well-honed prose at the drop of a hat. Or those who are young and dynamic as have their whole future in front of them. Just get on with it.
As the comments on my last post revealed (and thank you for those. They were hugely encouraging.) We writers can only do what we can do. And non-writers have no interest in the process. They want to read the book, however it's produced and by whom.
So it's over and out from me for a while. In October I will be going to the inaugural History Weekend back in my old stamping ground of The Old Swan Hotel in Harrogate where I shall hear the likes of Fay Weldon, Rose Tremain and Kate Mosse speak. I'm looking forward to it and may well blog about that. Otherwise, it's bottom on seat and eyes on screen time.