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Island Life, Word Birds & Process #6

After a couple of days of thunderbolts and lightning (not even remotely frightening – I love thunderstorms) today dawned mist-draped and gentle. It was silly o’clock and the enclosed, slightly secretive morning felt perfect. I was ready to write. It’s been this way for a week or two now and the result is I’m approaching the home straight, if not at a gallop then certainly at a gentle canter. (Were it not for the ‘Edit As You Go’ gene, this first draft would probably be finished.)

The problem is I’m unsure whose story I’m writing. I have two definite and four possible candidates, and it’s a potential minefield. Having recently published a book with a clear central character, I’m now faced with two distinct voices, each with a stake in the story, and another couple clamouring for attention.

I may be over-thinking it – every star needs a supporting cast and sometimes a double act works fine. The writer just has to insist that the understudies know their place. This would normally not be a problem. Unfortunately I fear it’s my own fault and serves me right for creating the monster that is a Narcissistic Mother. She really is a ruddy nightmare.

As for the ghost…

Phone a friend is what contestants on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? used to do, when they didn’t have a clue.

I think I need to call my editor.

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