Day One

I have yet to work out whether the starting is going to be the easiest or most difficult thing. A few people asked if I knew what I was going to write, or what I wanted to write about. As this is an exercise in speed and the potential for productivitiy as much as anything else, I decided (last night) to write something new. Or mostly new.

The theme, the general idea behind the story itself I know. As with most things, it’s something I’ve tried to write about before, but never quite managed. But the plot, the details, what actually happens, that is a mystery to me.

I had an idea for the opening, and possibly, in a cyclical way, this will inform the ending itself. But the majority, the 98% of the rest of the story is mostly clouded and unknown. For now.

So begins writing.

I love the idea of the chain smoking, whiskey swigging, three-am hard boiled writer hunched over his type-writer.  At university, I thought i was this writer. Except that I don’t smoke. And I don’t own a type-writer. Neither of these things stopped me attacking a short screenplay with good intentions and a bottle of cheap liquor.

When I woke four hours later, head on desk, half a bottle of whiskey gone, and (a very small amount of) ludicrous gibberish on the computer screen, I had to face up to the reality of the situation. Sometimes you ‘aint as romantic as you’d like to be.

I write best in the morning. So it was that half nine this morning, I donned my writing shirt - (Yes I have one, a green army surplus number I picked up from glastonbury one year for a pound) made a cafetiere of industrial strength coffee, and sorted out my desk. (Links to the flickr original with added notes trivia fans)

Thus took shape the opening scene, whereby our conflicted protagonist breaks into a run-down stately home in Norfolk. The words came quickly, not always perfectly formed, but I am viewing these first few days as a ‘warm up’ as much as anything.

I haven’t yet decided on a policy about posting excerpts, but for posterity, here is the (entirely unedited) opening sentence.

The rusty, age-dulled, time-greened and world-blunted spike on top of the fence has no qualms at all about piercing through the soft canvas of my right shoe, and roughly stabs me, diagonal, in the sole of my foot.

Probably need a comma in there somewhere.

The words came quite easily, which I found a suprise. It’s been a long time since I tackled a self-consciously big project like this. I think the best thing is that I found the thing rather than having added pressure, to be a positive experience. But I hear you, lets get the base and vulgar and rather cold business of numbers over shall we?

Wordcount :1,108

And I think we can all agree that is over target.

There are still some issues with the project to be resolved:

• How to approach re-writing (or more pertinently, when, to do it, the axiom - “writing is rewriting” rears its ugly head)
• How much plot details to post (if any)
• Posting excerpts (or not)
• Choosing a title
• To plan the plot (or not) before each days writing.
• Keeping blood:caffeine ratio at healthy levels.

See you tommorow. (Much shorter update, I promise)

Tom