In 2007, I failed to finish by the self imposed deadline of 27 January. I missed all the other self-imposed deadlines so, in August, I enrolled on a creative writing course (Creating Fictions at the City Lit in London) in order to be part of a workshop.
The course began in September and I began writing frantically every day, everywhere, in longhand. I read the first chapter in class and picked up a few pointers. Fair enough, I could use them in later drafts. Then, on the last day of term, I read out chapter nine!
Well it was a disaster.
The tutor had problems with it, not because of the extreme brutality (after all, it had Mongols in, it was supposed to be brutal) but because it was disordered, flitting from scene to scene sometimes describing scenes in detail but sometimes not. He knew that I write well, as I had always done well at the assigned exercises in class but while he didn’t understand my problem, one of the other women in class did…
“You’re writing a graphic novel aren’t you?” And she was right, sadly, so that means I have to start again and make ANOTHER attempt at writing a novel. It does give me another thing to add to my list of things to do. I also want to write a graphic novel.
