I really struggle when it comes to writing. Just look at me – I’m procrastinating on a blog post.
If you’re like me, you need beat yourself over the head to actually do any work. So my advice is; Just keep going, it doesn’t matter how good it is, just keep putting ideas down on paper. Don’t worry about it being good, just as long as you have your ideas and process in front of you for next time.
I’ll show you what I mean. The bit below is an extract from my WIP book.
Her phone buzzed. Kia dug around in her pockets, first her coat, then her trousers, then her coat again before finally pulling the phone out, at which time the caller had rung off.
She checked the number, but didn’t know it. She redialled.
“Hello?” A woman’s voice.
“Hi, you rang?”
“Kia, it’s me!” She sounded young.
“Oh my god, how are you? Where are you?”
“I’m good, I’ve just got off the train. Where are you?”
“In town somewhere, on top of a wall.”
“Ok, why are you on top of a wall? Are you spying on someone?”
“No, its just the way the town is set out, you can walk on walls.”
“This town turns you into Spiderman? Awesome.”
“So you are spying on someone?”
“So why are you on someone’s wall?”
“No, there are just a lot of walls here, look, just stay put, I’ll come find you.”
Kia hung up and gave herself a mental shake down.
She met Kirsty at the train station. Kia was used to London Train Stations, all movement and noise and smell, with the nonstop white noise of tannoy announcements, the clatter of shoes on tile and the press of commuters. Here, in Chailing, there was a railway track, a raised pavement and a shed.
Kirsty emerged from the shadows of the shed, her grin being the first thing Kia saw, like she was The Cheshire Cat or something. Kia shook her hand. It was good to have the team back together. And so early.
She didn’t like her colleagues. No, she didn’t, but there was a familiarity to them that made them more palatable than the alternative. Kirsty was, perhaps, the easiest one to get along with. She didn’t stare at Kia’s ass like Tom did, or repulse her like Christian did.
Kirsty moved forward in a fluid slink, like some cat that had just spotted unattended cream. She’s going to hug me, isn’t she, Kia thought. She prepared herself.
Kirsty flung her arms out and lunged into a squash that her tiny frame really shouldn’t have been able to achieve. Kia was sure she felt a rib bend.
They talk about;
“So, tell me about this place,” said Kirsty linking her arm through Kias and keeping her body close to the older womans. Kia didn’t like it, but at the same time felt happy that someone as young as Kirsty wanted to show the world that they were friends.
“Well, its an old market town with a castle. That’s about it, really. You seen one you’ve seen them all.” Kirsty made a face. “Well, ok then; there’s a river that runs through the town, it was used for defensive back in the day, but that’s mostly been redirected now redirected – the old channel has been turned into a road – the only decent road you’ll find here. The rest is pretty self-explanatory, as you can see; lots of walls and cobbles, very narrow streets and everything is uphill. Outside the walls its more normal.”
“And the new place, whats that like?” “Mostly broken, but Pas and Hugh are fixing it up now. Pascal gave me the inventory,” she laughed, “we’re registered for three Acorn Archimedes A5000’.” Kirsty gave her a blank smile. “Three really old computers,” Kia sighed. “Apart from some drafts, it’s a pretty nice place. We’ll get the sun in the morning and the view’s pretty good. The place was an old Hippy commune, any plant you see that isn’t a flower then you stay clear of it.”
What the other have been doing
Who is here so far
“Tom came in the other day.” Kirsty muffled a snort. “What?” 6’7’’ with a shaved scalp and huge muscles – health nut who eats constantly and always has bottle of water with him. Broad features and very red skin, thick ropes of muscle standing out on his arms and chest. He uses isometrics when he is idle – squeezing his fist to make his muscles bulge and stretch. Sweats a lot. Has a soft voice. Determined, pride, somewhat selfish, scared of weakness. Not an indian indian, doesn’t do ‘buffalo comes’ stuff. Why did he leave the reservation in USA. He was a Texan Indian, one of the Coahuiltecan people. Just like her he’d served in various military units and Special Forces in the US. She didn’t know why he’d come to the UK and she’d never asked.
Kirst had a small note book, filled with pictures.
Kia thinks about
Why Hugh and Kirsty have been in contact
What the institute did to Kirsty
Why they did it
Christian is a concentrated person, like a boiled down and refined oil, purest human in possible. Christian gave the impression of lines and creases in his face, bad teeth, sullen eyes and leering mouth, even when he doesn’t look like that.
What skills Kirsty has
How long will it take before Kirsty adjusts to the area
Kirsty catches her up on the institues inner workings, restructure of power etc. Closed down originally as it was a non profitable area, the London teams were considered to be enough to deal with the area – took it as part of their protectorate. The company had to let go of people but retained their properties.
Why did the company close down? Investigated for having a PMC/Private security force. Fire the hunter cadres because it was under the investigation – buildt as a research company, needed to show it wasn’t a military company, so fired their military elements. Always intended to restart up. Took two years to do, Kias fireing was one of the first until the company realised they needed to get rid of all staff. Hard to recruit for as it requires word of mouth to do – you have to be certain you want the person before you even interview them.
Kirtsy is a sensitive to fey and magic. Cant stand to be around tom or chris – chris wants to be next to her – she invigorates him like a ball rolling down a hill he travels towards her, he willk press himself to the wall to get closer to her aura. She hates him. Being near the men makes her senses drain and hurt – chris drains her and tom gives her a headache from the bird chirrup of electrical sparks. Chris is like a well to her. Young, privation in an institute. Never believing she was mad but being toilsd she was. Taken at 13 by the company and stiddies by them like tom and chris. All have barcodes. We are all numbers, I am not a number I am a man, facebook monitising private life mention when online. Not going bananas when she feels fey. She controls it, it is her expression of power. She uses drawings to mediate the visions or impressions. She needs her routine to help her focus, helps her live. Is she a girly girl? No, she doesn’t get out much and lives on line and has a massive online presence – like a decker in shadowrun. Possibly the main POV character as she could be the main audience window.
That is an unedited copy/paste job and you can see how scattershot my working style is. Its partly because of my dyslexia; I just stick my head down, get the words on paper and then I go back and edit my way through. The above bit is just an example of that, in fact you can see how I started in one voice and finished with a different voice and style.
What I will now do is go back and edit, edit, edit until I don’t cry into my pillow over the words I have put my name too. This is pretty much how I do my thing. If I tried to make everything look good in the first run then I’d commit suicide. No, really. Getting my spade fingers to hit keys in a socially acceptable way, producing a run of words along the lines of hskn dnxhd nsakud really gets me pissed off at myself. It used to chase me off projects. I’m happier with my process now – just word vomit at the page, get the ideas down before they go and then edit for the glory of the Emperor.
And now its time for coffee.