Two books at once
I am writing and re-writing my work. We all do this, and for me, it is an essential part of the process of proving: Allowing a work to lie fallow for a time, then going back to it, in a different mood, with new thoughts, and a more reader-like, objective view. And for most of last year, particularly because I’ve been busy with loads of other stuff, I’ve been writing one work, one book, to get it finished, I said to myself. Writing one book does, admittedly, help us to keep all our plot lines and timings internally consistent. And it is good to make a virtue of finishing a book.
But, remembering that enjoyment and motivation are what this writing is all about, I have to admit that singledom is not how I work best. Though I find it takes me quite a long time to feel that any piece of writing has reached its best – I suspect at eighteen months to two years – I don’t thrive when I’m writing only one book. Call me faithless, call me flirty…. but
Ideally – as I did when I was writing Trapped – I like to write two books at once; I need another work in the background, so that I have a kind of ‘double weave’ arrangement going on. For me, that adds flavour and depth to both works, in different ways.
When writing and editing Trapped I also had Happiness Matters on the go, which actually motivated me, adding ‘cross-fertilisation’ rewards, and helping me to take both tasks more seriously, and in the best spirit. It’s hard to explain, but two books make the whole adventure more real, and I’m less hung up – in all the wrong ways – on the one project that has all of my current attention.
It’s as if, with only one to focus on, the tone gets too serious and pedantic. Does anyone else find themselves needing two books to work on, or am I unusual in that way?
Double weave takes longer, but for me, it’s stronger.
Please share:
March 30, 2017
Quiet heroism
Fran Macilvey 'Trapped: My Life with Cerebral Palsy', Fran Macilvey, Fran's School of Hard Knocks 2 Comments
Today has been a busy day, so much so that I got home at two this afternoon and sagged quietly in front of my to-write blog, and nothing much came to mind.
It is the anniversary of my father’s death today, and last year, that was Easter Monday. Easter is late this year.
Since this time last year my brother Pieter, a beloved dad, son, brother, colleague… has also passed on, his long battle with cancer fought bravely to the very end.
And one of my bestest friends has also died, finally succumbing to internal bleeding caused by a biopsy gone wrong.
Three reasons to feel sad, but also to be grateful to remember what really matters in this life: Faith, hope and love.
When hubby sees someone doing something unkind, or behaving badly, he will sometimes say, ‘Maybe s/he has a secret sorrow…’ and I nod. But lately, I have said, ‘Yes, but we all do!’ and most of us exercise that quiet heroism which goes un-noticed. We don’t make a great song and dance about our misfortunes, do we, but carry on, hoping for better luck next time. Our plans fail, wither, or fall off the tree altogether, and we gather ourselves and walk on.
Occasionally, the path is brightened by a shaft of light, a smile, a shared sense of achievement in something going well. In a sense, we have no choice but to go on forward, because the roads of life only lead us there, so we might as well go cheerfully.
But I think I began to appreciate the value of quiet heroism, when in the streets near our houses, I saw how many businesses came and went. Each time, the hopeful business start-up would invest in furnishings, signage, tills, counters, book-keeping….All these costs to start a business that had doubtless been cherished and dreamed of for years, only for the dream to fade. But optimism rarely dies completely, and so we come back again, older, wiser, and ready for the next challenge.
Knowing that there are worse things than ‘failure’ I am more than ever determined to go forward, to learn, to have courage and not to give up.
Many blessings, and happy Easter to you all. Thanks for reading.
Please share: