My recent visit to the writer’s conference in Melbourne fired up my enthusiasm for getting stuck into book two, which is a sequel to The Red Heart. This has been helped a bit by the fact that my last position was made redundant, freeing me up to write through the day. This has been both good and bad, as I will explain.
I have no idea what this book will be called, but as it focusses on Sarah, who was Kathy’s best friend in The Red Heart, that is what the draft is currently called. I’m hoping that inspiration for a truly appropriate name will strike when more of the plot is in place. So far, I am only about twenty one thousand words in. Some sections flow freely and my fingers fly over the keyboard, or else pen scribbles over the paper if that is the mode that I have chosen. At other times though, I stare at the half-filled page, wondering what on earth was in the character’s mind when he/she said or did that and just what exactly are they going to do next?
Sigh. Perhaps I’ll have a cup of coffee. I wander out to the kitchen. Now that I’m here, perhaps I’m feeling a little nibbly. Why don’t I have any biscuits? Perhaps some crackers? Cheese? A few almonds? Before long I am rummaging through the pantry cupboard and the fridge. Just as well I don’t keep chocolate in the house. It wouldn’t last long. As is, I scoff whatever I can find.
These are just diversionary tactics dealing with the hiatus in productivity while waiting for that aha moment when you know just what the response of those characters is going to be. In the meantime, I’m stuffing myself with more food than I actually need, especially as the act of writing entails sitting in the one spot for a lengthy period of time with not a lot of physical effort. Stroking the cat occasionally doesn’t really count.
I’m not quite gaining a kilo for each thousand words but I can see that writing is counter-productive to maintaining a svelte figure. How do other writers deal with this issue? I can’t be the only one to have encountered this weighty problem.