Tuesday 27 September 2011

Stories in my Head


I am struggling at the moment, to find time to sit down and write all of the stories in my head.  I have a young baby, a family, and all the associated housework to deal with before I can focus on my writing.  Unfortunately the writing has to be a sideline to my role as Mother. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. 
           
Anyway, just because I can’t physically write up the stories, does not mean they don’t exist.  For example, I am currently attempting to write the sequel to my recently published paranormal romance novel Love Hurts.  I have actually written a rough draft of about the first five chapters of Love Kills.  In my head, I am probably on about chapter twelve, or possibly even further along.  It gets a little confusing.

My stories are a good source of escapism while I am stood before the kitchen sink, or cleaning out the turtle tank, or ironing, or hoovering, or any number of other boring household tasks.  I even formulate the stories while in the shower, or in bed, out walking, or even when I am out in the car.  My characters take on their own lives, and draw me in as a spectator.  It is my job to remember what they tell me, and commit it to paper (or computer) as soon as possible.

Sometimes it can be embarrassing, like the time I headbutted a neighbour’s hanging basket because I was engrossed in my personal fictional dialogue.  Other times people can be talking to me and I simply don’t hear them.  I sort of snap out of a daydream, and have to wake up to the reality around me.  I am sure this is not an isolated situation.  I must be one of a million writers in a similar position.

Maybe I should invest in a Dictaphone, and dictate my stories while I work.  Perhaps then I can at least have something to write up at a later date.  I find sometimes that when I actually get to the physical writing stage, my stories fly off on a tangent, totally different from what I had originally imagined.  Sometimes this works, sometimes not.  I must be away to bed soon as the night is moving on.  Who knows which story I will dip into, and where I will travel before sleep takes over…

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