I can tell you I’ve been busy – and that would be true.
I can tell you I’ve been away – also not a lie.
But the real truth is that for over a month I’ve been finding distractions that take me away from fiction writing and from this blog where I’d have to own up to the truth.
I’ve been writing other stuff – fact isn’t a problem, but somehow the idea of making things up has scared me.
I told myself I was simply busy with other things, that I was waiting on an answer from an agent. That I would get back to editing an almost-finished novel just as soon as I could. But the nagging thought that prevented me from opening that incomplete novel and making it whole was what happens next?
There would be a blank page and I’d have to come up with something new.
An original idea.
And that’s where it got scary.
There is one advantage with working on a novel, there is only one intimidating moment when you sit down and stare at a blank page. Once you’ve started, all you have to do is carry on. All – I know, it’s not as easy as I’m making it sound, but the start is the worst bit, I promise.
So while I haven’t been lazing around in bed I have been avoiding this blog and my writing notepad. And it’s been a process to get back to it. Everyone has their own methods. Mine involves ignoring writing for a while, then easing back into it with a diary entry or two, just to get the words flowing. Not made up words at this stage, not fiction. But facts are still made up from words, just like fiction is.
Then a chance conversation at the weekend gave me an idea, and before I knew it I was writing a story.
The good news is, it’s like riding a bicycle – once you get in the saddle it all comes back to you. So now I’m happy to say, I’ve gotta go, I have a story to finish. But I’ll be back soon, I promise.