So, it's been a while since I blogged. That's because I've been putting the finishing touches to my debut novel "27". And what a journey it's been. I got lost a few times along the way. I was hit by huge tides of self doubt and thrown onto some uninhabitable and barren shores that I had to find my way off as quickly as I could.
But it's done now and the sensation on completing it , like many things in this song of a life that we all sing , was not the one expected.
You envisage a fire works display of wonder and awe enveloping your mind when you type the words "The End". But I didn't even get a sparkler.
Now, don't get me wrong, when I thought up the ending of the novel ( something that had eluded me for months) and knew how the whole story would tie up- one Saturday morning, early and hungover, I crawled to my laptop and wrote the final scene - that's when I felt godlike. That's when the belief that I was capable of writing the greatest novel that a man could write filled me to bursting. That's when I became light headed and shivered as if receiving a message from a higher plain. But that feeling, like anything worth experiencing, go's , and goes really quickly. It is then that you realise the real work is just about to start. It's time to go back and fill those gaps , strengthen those sentences and flesh out the characters. This process took the longest and was the most work-man like, the most pains taking ,the most laborious but... it was also the most rewarding. This is no knee trembler around the back of the bike sheds feeling, or a hit of cheap whiz, this is like standing on the brow of the yacht that you have be building, sweating over , and blowing your savings on for the last three years. The thing that drew you to it when you were tired and thought you had nothing left in you. You realise, when it's completed that you have to let it go, let it sail off without you, and ,this is where it gets scary, hope to God that it floats.