Yesterday I finished the first draft of my novel, Kaleidoscope. Instead of being elated as I expected, I felt shattered. Years ago as a college student, I ran 440 yard race for our women’s team. We were pitted against York university. St John’s college had only just started to accept women, so there weren’t many of us to choose from. I absolutely knew I wouldn’t win, but we desperately needed a point. I ran it like it was a marathon. Initially I was doused with mud as runners rushed ahead. This is not a story of the tortoise and a hare. Not only was I lapped, but most of the fortunately few spectators thought the race was over.
Nonetheless I finished. I got the point our team needed.
That’s how I felt last night. I’d done it. I began with a great idea, but struggled to work out how to execute it. I’m part of two writers’ group and both helped by pointing out what worked and what didn’t. Encouraged I plodded on.
The thing with writing – whether poetry or fiction – only you, the writer knows where you’re going. For me, it’s little more than a feeling. The title, Kaleidoscope, was all I had to go off. And somehow I’ve finished the first draft. Kaleidoscope works for me. I want to ensure it works for readers.
Because I have the structure in place, because I know the ending, I can continue with some confidence. There’s research I still need to do. Not just history and place, but also details about the characters. By now, they’re all real to me. Complex people who struggle to find their place in a city which is evolving. How do they adapt? Can they? I know not everyone can.
What next? The plan is to go back to the beginning. Work with each chapter, one by one. See what’s there, deepen where necessary. Note what further research I need. At some point, I’ll need to return to Hull History centre. In order to understand several of the characters better, I hope to visit the Liverpool Maritime museum. While I’m there, I’ll pop in to the Natural History Museum where there’s an exhibition on bees. Did you know bees are deaf? All that buzzing and they can’t hear.
The next draft is a new beginning.
Reading: Finished Killing Floor – Lee Child A page turner, chilling violence in parts – which I skipped. After the first incident I got the drift and enjoyed the drama of whether Reacher would save the day. Continued with Weathering – Ruth Allen. I read this in bed. Very much about connecting the physical landscape with the internal one. I prefer to read it slowly, going back to remind myself of previous incidents. Allen is a pyschotherapist and she works with her clients in Derbyshire. Just started Rainbow Milk by Paul Mendez. It’s set in the Black Country and so far the story is told by a man who is blind. The Man Alone – poems by Michael Laskey I’m continuing to enjoy this collection. Substacks: Notes from the Margin (Paid) University of Self (Free) No Gloss, No Veneer (Free) Notes from the Underground (Free) In the Beautiful Middles of Nowhere (Free) There are many posts that are well-worth reading.I’ve committed myself to these few.
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