Friday fiction: Disappointed

"I'm very disappointed. You know that, don't you?" She nodded, but couldn't lift her gaze. In her peripheral vision she could see the tip of the cane and could think of nothing but the ordeal to come.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, young lady... You've let yourself down, you've let your form down - you've let the whole school down..."

Yes, I've had months to work on my project and what have I produced? Almost nothing. It's a shockingly poor effort and, if things were as they should be, I deserve to suffer a severe punishment. 

Months back I started out on my Beryl novel - set in 1940s Britain - full of enthusiasm, but as time has gone on I have run out of steam. Two chapters in I've hit writer's block and just can't seem to get round it.

By way of an excuse ("...I don't want to hear your excuses, my girl...") I must say I've loads of real life writing and editing to do at the moment, so doing more in my free time seems like a chore rather than fun.

Now I'm torn. I feel like I should leave Beryl and her pals on hold and try something different; I rather like the idea of finding out what happened next for the Week in the Country characters (a week in the city, maybe). Perhaps I could come back to Beryl in the future.
Then again, maybe it just needs immersion in all things 1940s for a time and a bit of a push to get through the block. Am I giving up to readily?

Anyway, I thought I'd share a snippet with you so that at least a bit of Beryl's story sees the light of day. In this bit she has an encounter with an old friend from school:

Mrs Jones had been joined by the others by the door and all looked at Cassie and Bee in confusion. Further away, across the yard, Bran came come out of the barn with a wheelbarrow and he stopped too. “Miss Wordsworth, whatever is the matter?” Mrs J asked.

“I suggested that this girl - this very rude girl - might care to help me start the car. It takes a turn or two with the starting handle. She answered me with very bad word,” she said. “I really am quite shocked.”

“I certainly d…” Bee began, before being cut off by Mrs Jones.

“I’m very disappointed, Beryl. The Assistant District Commissioner is our guest, so please say sorry and help her with her bag – jump to it.”

“No, – that won’t do. Given what the DC has said about discipline Mrs Jones I think Miss Daley needs a little lesson, don’t you? Do you have a slipper?”

“Certainly, I’m sure I can find something…,” said Mrs J. As she went to the door Beryl took her chance to screw up her face and stick her tongue out at Cassie.

Cassie’s grin signalled that she was still at least partly the mischievous Sixth Former of days gone by. “Actually Mrs Jones,” she called in through the open door. “A good, solid hairbrush might be more appropriate, if you’ve something suitable for a minx with a big bottom.”

Seconds later Mrs J reappeared carrying a large ebony brush with an aged, well-used look.

“How about this?” she said to Miss Wordsworth, holding it out to be taken.

“No, no. You keep it. I have to fly – other appointments to keep,” said Cassie, opening her car door and slipping in behind the wheel. The door slammed shut, but she wound down the window.

“Well thank you for splendid tea, Mrs J.”

“My pleasure. Have a safe journey.”

Cassie’s reply was lost as the engine spluttered into life – no need for a starting handle it seemed. Cassie engaged the gears and as she released the clutch the car began to pull away, which meant she had to shout at the top of her voice to make herself heard. “And remember Mrs Jones, that girl – lay it on smartly, won’t you? All part of the war effort…”

Points of view

I was having a chat about technique with a veteran fiction writer yesterday and he suggested - as an exercise - shifting the point of view in a scene to freshen up your writing. That is re-writing it from another character's POV to get a different sense of what's going on and how it fits in with the grander scheme of things.

Later I thought it's an exercise that seems perfect for our particular fiction niche. The POV of the spankee and of the spanker couldn't be more different could they? Or perhaps the POV of the proverbial fly on the wall...

The discipline of the strict deadline

Here's a bit of a conundrum for the freelance journalist who's also a bit spanky. You've been given a deadline and work on the article is limping along, but is a long way from getting finished. Talking to (presumably) non-spanko friends I know this inability to get stuck in is a common problem.

You make a coffee, you collect the mail, you talk to the cat, you empty the washing machine blah, blah. You do everything and anything but actually churn out the words. And all the time the deadline gets closer.

Eventually me and the vanilla writer part company. He or she pictures the stern, finger-wagging editor, keeps an eye on  the clock and gets it written.

Editorial feedback

I do something slightly different. I picture the stern, finger-wagging editor, lose sight of the clock and start imagining what could happen if I failed to deliver; the what could happen is, of course, all about being across the editor's knee or over the editor's desk for well-earned chastisement. 

Very difficult to concentrate. Anyway, better do some work, bye!

Oh yes, and Happy New Year

The hangover has eased a little now and I'm feeling a bit less bratty. Moaning about Christmas presents on New Year's Day is not nice behaviour, is it.  In any well-regulated householder the moaner would be taught the error of their ways ("...up to your room right away and wait for your punishment...").

The first day of the year should be about looking forwards and resolutions, shouldn't it? Start out with a positive mental attitude.

In 2012 I'm planning to be a better writer in my day job and to write better fiction too, both vanilla and not. Plenty of blogging as well, even though it steals fiction-time.

If there's one wish for the coming year - and no it's not about some selfish whinge about presents - it's that I can find more time to devote to writing. It can  be difficult to make it a priority, but there's nothing quite like sitting (comfortably?) in front of a keyboard exploring your own imagined universe.

More photo memory

I've touched on this problem before. When you're writing over a period of time a character's looks and personality can be a bit fluid, so it helps to try to pin them down - tn makes for consistency from chapter to chapter.
A (vanilla) friend offered advice. He sticks pictures of people and places on a board in his office after the style of those walls you see in detective dramas. It's appropriate, as he's writing detective fiction.
Not so appropriate for me, of course. What would the pictures be - bottoms, underwear, inspiring implements of correction. My mother's pretty easy-going, but would not, I think, be amused.
Instead I've got a file on my laptop that is a sort of virtual picture wall. For 'A Month in the Country' the picture file got quite full, with images from tumblr and elsewhere that helped me visualise each of the main characters.

Flick, or Gemma

For example, my feisty heroine Flick ended up being represented in the photo file by the actress Gemma Arterton. In early chapters Flick had been a blonde, but as time went on I decided to make her the perfect English rose brunette - which had to be Gemma A.
Now I'm having trouble visualising my new heroine Beryl, or Bee, my 1940s Land Army girl. She's a sporty type who plays tennis and hockey, can handle hard farmwork and is also gorgeous enough to turn heads.
Perhaps she should be a redhead. Handprints work so well on very pale skin, don't they? So, whose picture should I put into the photo wall file? All, any, suggestions would be gratefully recieved.

The End

No more new chapters, first draft complete. Just after mindnight I had the pleasure of typing 'The End' and the first draft of Project Spanko Novel was complete. At about 15 per cent over the target word count it is now going to need a lot of pruning, but it's a big step in the right direction. It has been fun and a treat to be writing something that is led until by you - no publisher or editor tugging at the reins.

Dirty little secret

I met a writer friend for a drink last night for a bit of literary chit-chat. He's had a couple of novels published, but has to have a day job. I make a living from journalism, but I'm a novice fiction writer.

So we go in for a bit of mutual mentoring.
And he's delighted my current project is going well, but would like to help. When he offered to read and comment on completed chapters I had to look away because I was struggling to a straight face and I'm pretty sure I blushed beet red.
The prospect of my rather prim and proper (very vanilla) friend reading all that STUFF cracked me up.
I suppose I could bowdlerise it just for him - go though the draft and edit out all the red bottom-related material. It would take a lot of cutting, but at least his read through wouldn't take very long...