For some reason I can’t explain, I feel compelled to enter the National Novel Writing Month again, despite getting distracted with other things last year and failing miserably. This time round, I’m attempting to complete a novel I’ve long meant to get around too, Craven Place. In theory, this could be doable, as the novel is based on a completed film script I wrote way back in 1999, which was filmed in North Wales by Splendid Films Ltd one stormy February, but which subsequently sat in perpetuity in post production, and has never been seen since (hey, I got paid for writing it, so all’s good). Given that the film will probably never be seen, I always meant to write the story up as a novel. This is as good a time as any.
The aim in National Novel Writing Month is to complete a 50,000 word novel, which given that I’d be looking to find a publisher for the book in the future is probably too short for purpose, so Craven Place could well end up longer. We’ll see. So far, we’re on chapter two. After fleeing Craven Place, Tanith has encountered the bewildering vagrant Matthew Hopkins (no relation), and is about to begin the telling of her tale. As I’m following the structure of the film, a lot of the book is likely to be different characters retelling events leading to the climax in the present, which should be an interesting experiment in switching story telling voices. I shall keep you informed of how it goes. So far, I’m 4443 words into 50,000.
Of course, I’m already busy enough, as ever. I’m still fleshing out parts of a super-secret project I’m not allowed to tell you about yet, I’m slowly promoting the existence of the free Dark Terrains ebook across the net (thank you to those who have helped – I know who you are – and feel free to keep spreading the word, and the book, as far as you can, and if you haven’t downloaded it yet, do so here), I’m trying to piece together five other short stories for submission to various markets, I’m completing the edits of my novel Thy Fearful Symmetry ahead of submitting it in a week or two, and in the middle of it all, I’m attempting to have an actual life as well. Not that I’m complaining. I quite like the pressure.
Speaking of Dark Terrains, pop back on Saturday and I’ll post an essay I once wrote concerning one of the stories in the collection, Bulimia Daemonica. The essay was originally published in the Son of Brainbox anthology alongside the tale, and could well be of interest to anybody looking for an insight into where ideas are born.