The Write Stuff

You may have noticed a distinct lack of activity in this blog as of late (yes, both of you who read it!) but I do have a very good reason, honest!

At long last, some seven years after I first began to plan it, and eighteen months after beginning the first draft proper, I have a genuine, finished first draft of my semi-autobiographical look at the rock music of the late 80s and early 90s.

Clocking in at a shade under 150,000 words, which has surprised the hell out of me as my original aim was to hit 100k, but clearly there's more to this tale than originally met even my eye, I have a fantastic sense of accomplishment, as my previous book was just a third of this length.

That's the good news. The (only slightly) less good news is that I have now jumped straight into the editing process, and this is proving to be very interesting indeed.

I'm reading chapters that I wrote up to a year and a half ago and the difference in quality between them and the final few that I completed is stunning. The first chapters are still good, but it's intersting to see how much my craft has developed even in the last eighteen months, proving the old adage that practice does indeed make (one become that little bit closer to) perfect.

The danger I have now, though, is because this project is finished as a first draft, I need to decide which project is next. I'm decided on the fact that I want to tackle one of my fictional ideas at long last, but I'm torn between them.

Also, for one of the ideas I can see it working well as a book for adults, but equally the whole story could be told from the young adult perspective, which would mean being much less explicit with certain themes and language, but also a challenge to see if I can produce something as good as Darren Shan, who I have recently discovered thanks to Deborah's boy Tav.

Decisions, decisions, but I suppose I shouldn't be complaining, as it's much better to have too many ideas to choose from than to have no ideas at all.

I Remember That! (Or Do I?)

It's funny how your memory can play sneaky little tricks on you. Things you thought you'd remembered perfectly - dates, times, places - suddenly turn out to be incorrect.

This happened to me last night while I was writing a chapter for my latest book, the semi-autobiographical 80s rock one.

In January of 1989 I went for an audition with a band called Whip Me Harvey who were a popular local rock band whose bassist, a guy called Tom who was also a friend of mine, had just walked out on them.

Prior to reaching this point in my tale, I had already written about the genesis of the band I formed that I first played live with in September 1989, but which had actually formed before Christmas in 1988. Or so I have believed for a good few years.

You see, the day of the Whip Me Harvey audition coincided with an event that I vividly remember and which was widely reported in the media. On Sunday 8th January 1989, a Boeing 737 crashed onto the M1 motorway, a few yards short of the actual runway, killing 47 people.

Clearly, this is the sort of event you remember, and so by extension I remembered the exact date of the Whip Me Harvey audition. The problem was that I didn't put together the other band until after I had auditioned for Whip Me Harvey. Therefore I couldn't have put it together before Christmas 1988, and so I had to go back through several chapters and rewrite history to more accurately reflect what actually happened.

Though it was a pain in the backside, and the chronology matters to nobody except me, I gladly put myself through the pain because I wanted it to be as truthful as I could possibly make it. Sure, nobody would ever have known, or cared for that matter, if I auditioned for Whip Me Harvey before I put Alter Ego, my other band, together.

Nobody, that is, except me. As a result of my rewriting, I can sleep soundly knowing that I have effectively rediscovered some of the truth of my life that I had forgotten, despite having been there at the time.

In truth, that's partly why I'm writing this book - for me - so that when I'm old, senile and feeble I can relive my youth through the power of my own words. If anyone else is entertained by my tale, then that's all icing on the cake.

Then and Now

The past is a funny place.

It defines who we are, and has shaped us into the people who are living in the here and now.

I'm currently writing a semi-autobiographic book which means that I'm spending a lot of time there at the moment, and it's reminded me of many good memories. Inevitably the mind begins to wander and speculate on what would have happened if you'd made this choice, or that choice, of what might have been, of what could have been, but though it's fun to speculate on these alternate realities, I have to be honest and admit that I wouldn't change a thing.

Instead I look on the past as a favourite movie - I get to replay my favourite bits, and ignore the bad times, and draw upon my experience in this wonderful, scary, mysterious country to be the best person I can be today, tomorrow and until the day I die (which hopefully will be some way beyond tomorrow).

This ability to look back and reflect is an asset that should be regularly drawn upon. When the present hits the inevitable bumps in the road, or sometimes seems to have guided you into a cul de sac, then a quick reflection on past difficulties almost always reminds us that things do get better, that the bad times are usually brief, if intense, and that looking forward is not only positive but an exhilarating experience.

Right here, right now, my life is good. I am loved, adored, worshipped, and respected by someone who brings out the best in me. I have the freedom to write regularly, to indugle my passions for photography, for words, for movies, books and games, and I feel the most content that I have ever felt.

The past is indeed a funny place, but to dismiss the people, places, events and trials that comprise it would be an unfortunate folly. Instead I embrace it, learn from it, and let it help me to put my best foot forward into this bright future that I am about to step into.