Some days, you would be forgiven for not knowing that I am a writer. I don't act like one. I act like a student most of the time (that is I procrastinate and spend a lot of time on Facebook). And it's actually been a really long time since I worked on the current manifestation of The Compound. But yesterday, I watched Atonement, you see, and it reminded me of my book, it reminded me of the kind of writer I want to be.
If only I knew how to end this damned thing.... I know what I want the outcome to be but I can't make it happen...
All of this makes me think of Marcel Proust, writhing in agony on his office floor (much to the alarm of his housekeeper), just agonizing over one sentence or one word. And Swan's Way is really wordy so he must have done that a lot I think. I haven't quite gotten to that stage. To be honest, if the words are not coming, I go to something else. I know that's not really a way to meet a deadline but, well, I haven't got one, have I?
Perhaps I should set one.
Perhaps I should say that from now until the end of this draft, I will complete one chapter a week. That should help me finish within the next few months, in time for Nanowrimo...(I will do that again this year but I think I will write the same story as last year even though that is kind of cheating. It unsettles me to have so many unfinished manuscripts.)
There is a touch of darkness in my current draft. Perhaps this ending around I will not be so nice. One thing I have learned is the best writing comes from making your characters as miserable as possible.
On the topic of misery, I am going to watch Phantom of the Opera. Gerard Butler makes me smile.