This morning we woke to snow — not exactly crisp and even (more slushy and patchy), but snow nonetheless. I looked at it from my window, contemplated the hills and the admittedly vague possibility of careening down them with nothing separating my bottom from that chilly substance other than a Marks & Spencer carrier bag, had a mug of tea and, as my still being fit and well and all in one piece attests, decided that I would leave such foolishness to those better equipped (i.e. children who haven’t yet acquired enough bumps and bruises to understand the dangers and eager-to-impress grandfathers who should know better, but never do.)
Instead, I started work on chapter two of Tomorrow Will Come and It Will Be Just Like Today. The second chapter can often be a little difficult, I find. After the initial buzz of starting the novel it can feel as if it has the potential to stall — it’s almost as if it tries to rein me in, settle me down for the long haul ahead. Something I don’t appreciate, and something that just hasn’t happened in this particular case.
I think the complexity of character and relationship within the novel is the key to ensuring that I remain as intrigued and committed to it as I want the reader to be. As I’ve already mentioned, the larger framework of the novel came to me pretty much fully formed. I know the beginning, the middle and the end. Nevertheless, there is still enough to hold my interest, to keep me on my toes. And there’s still room for me to improvise subplots etc if appropriate ones spring to mind as I write it.
I’m really glad I didn’t outline this in detail beforehand.
Gary William Murning Online 