We interrupt this service to...

... go on holiday... celebrate the publication of Spike in Space... edit and re-write (no, not *tweak*) sections of my next book, Dance Dreams... make several routine hospital visits... and most exciting of all, to finish the young adult book I've been writing with my son!

Here's the summer in pictures:

La Bolli, Radicondoli, Tuscany

                                                                                                                                                                          

                

I learned - or acknowledged -  two seemingly contradictory things about myself during this time. Since my sons flew the nest and I've become a full-time writer, mainly working alone at home, I am no longer as gregarious as I once was. I like my own company and I sometimes find large groups overwhelming. On the other hand, collaborating and co-writing a book with my son was a truly wonderful experience, so it's obvious - and something of a relief - that I'm a long way off becoming a recluse. Lucky too, because I have Black History Month school events coming up soon and I start teaching a short Writing for Children course next month.

I hope you enjoyed your summer too.        

                 

Losing the Plot

20,000 words into the first draft of a YA thriller, it’s tough to admit that I’ve lost the plot! I’ve spent the last three weeks desperately editing, revising and rewriting, but I finally have to accept that the story just isn’t working. All that effort – for nothing.

OK, maybe not for nothing. This is a new genre and a new target age-group for me and I’ve learnt a lot, most of which I hope to be able to put to good use at a later date.

When it comes to plotting, I am definitely a planner rather than a ‘pantser’. I need to know the story from beginning to end before I actually start writing. I have tried – and failed – to write a fast, first draft and work out the plot as I went along, but it just doesn’t work for me. I need a plan – not that I necessarily stick to it. It’s like a map I can go back to if I get lost – or a lifeline, if I get stuck.

That said, it’s taken me a while to work out exactly what went wrong this time around. I’d done the research. I had a detailed scene-by-scene outline. I had a synopsis. I knew my characters inside out – their background, what they wanted, what made them tick... and I knew whodunit.

In two of my books for younger readers – Spike and Ali Enson and Spike in Space, due out in August – I blended realism (adoption, sibling rivalry) and fantasy (aliens, space travel).

This blend of fact and fiction was the starting point for this latest project, but the present-day real event – or series of events – is harrowing and by adding an element of fantasy, I was left feeling that I was not doing justice to either strand of the story. So, I've had to choose between the two (more on that later)... and start plotting all over again.


Of course, this whole process has made me feel like I've lost the plot in more ways than one. Anyone else know that feeling?

The Best of Times, The Worst of Times

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness...

Well, obviously I couldn’t have put it better myself – it’s Dickens!

The last few weeks have been very fairly eventful and painful for me, but I'll refrain from writing about all the gory details – partly because I have enough integrity not to invade other people’s privacy and partly because I have a sense of shame and want to preserve some semblance of personal dignity.

Unbelievably, Mother’s Day was less than a month ago. I had a fabulous day with my sons – a trip to the theatre, a walk with the big son's dog and an Indian take-away.

Then the earth shifted. A phone call with someone close to me reminded me that not all the mothers I know were feeling quite so lucky and blessed - and that there have been moments when I didn't feel quite so positive about motherhood myself. On the same day, a note through my door informed me that my neighbour had died!

And then the edits on my latest book suddenly turned into major re-writes – the manuscript was too dark and sombre. Could I make it quirkier? Funnier? Shorter? Better!

I tried to find my sense of humour. Remember that old joke? Question: How many editors does it take to change a light bulb? Answer: Does it have to be a light bulb? I sent it to my editor with another ‘joke’ about considering the possibility of sticking my head in the gas oven. She sent back emergency chocolate and invited me out to lunch – but only after I'd done the re-writes!

I still wasn’t laughing. I probably took it out on those closest to me – my best friends, my oldest friends, the lovely sons – and I ran away to the mountains. Literally.

I am back home now. I have apologised. The re-writes are done – at least until the next lot. I will try to remember that like a good story, life is full of ups and downs – and of beginnings and endings.

RIP Kat.