On Writing, and Rewriting

Rewriting large swathes of a book is something I’ve never really had to worry about. My process is different to many authors. I usually don’t sit down to work on a book unless I’ve already figured out what I want to do – in other words, I wait for inspiration to hit, then use it. Since I generally have inspiration galore, if not about the book I want it to be about, this process works pretty well. Unfortunately – or maybe fortunately, because it’s probably helping me develop as a writer – this time’s different.

This time I cant afford to just work on something else until the snarl in the current book magically works itself out in my subconscious. This time I tangled myself up good and proper. How? I’m so glad you want to know what an idiot I am.

I started writing (imminently) DEAD about 18 months ago. I ran into some troubles at about 80%. The book just wasn’t hanging together properly, and it didn’t feel right. So I dumped it into my ‘background processing’ mental drawer, and went on to other projects. I pulled it out occasionally and poked it, but it would just emit a puff of nasty-smelling gas and lie there, mute. Riiiight. So, I’d move on to something else. Fast forward to a couple of months ago. September or October. Suddenly, inspiration struck!! For… a different DEAD(ish) book. Within two weeks, I had a draft of DEAD (and hellbent) that I was very happy with. Errr… except when I realised that I’d written book five before finishing book four. And that I couldn’t just swap them around. Oh dear God, the HORRORS.

So, I got my arse into gear and finished book four, with a couple of bursts of inspiration to help me along. I sent it out to a select (and lovely) bunch of people, and they told me categorically that the ending sucked big hairy donkey balls. Oh, crap and a pile of it! So, I’m rewriting. And I really don’t like it. This book better be worth all the pain.