Goddamn my writerly Achille’s heels

What do you do when you’ve finished writing something like a novel, eh? Well, I mean, after the obvious bit where you get pissed on whisky and give your mum a lap dance. … what… … is that just me…? Well, whatever, we’ve all got our own parties to get on down to. (I saw you with that fluorescent orangutan. Don’t tell me you didn’t. Facebook says you did.) Anyway. After the party, what happens then? Well, the streamers get cleaned up, the balloons deflate and whither like used condoms in the corners of the room, and the left over…

A postcard from writing hell

I am still in recovery. *Peeks out from beneath mountain of blankets* It’s taken me two weeks before I could even talk about it. *Stares at pile of screwed up paper barricading the door* Two weeks ago, I wrote a synopsis for Grind Spark. *Gnaws knuckles to the bone* Now, I’ve seen the warning signs. I’ve seen the deathly pale faces of other writers whenever they speak of the synopsis. How they look around, all shifty, whisper the word and then run away, swearing into cravats and reaching for the nearest pull of whisky. Because, well, how the hell do…

Killing your first draft

It’s not easy. You’ve been working for months, maybe years. And you’ve finally typed THE END in as big a font as you possibly can and made your very own typewriter ‘ding’ noise when you saved it. And it’s done. It’s finished. You’re ready to get published and start your book tour. The police put on extra security when they hear you’re coming to town; they don’t want crowd crushes or fans fainting and getting trampled. You prepare yourself for the inevitable torrent of interviews and award invitations. You can already see the ticker tape and confetti bursting into the…