Scorpio88's blog

Just sayin'

From my experience you never really know anyone. We are the person we are, the person we want to be seen as, and the person that others perceive. And not only are all these personalities different, they're fluid as well. They change with the environment: the person we are at work is not necessarily the person we are at home, or the person we are on the tube or in a car. We are chameleons. And we are rivers, changing our nature bit by bit as we...

Journal of a New Novelist 22 (Sailors, Bricklayers, Artists - Why a perfect first draft is a fallacy)

I have come to the conclusion that if writing a first draft was like sailing a boat I would be constantly off-course. I would forever be adjusting the helm to get back on what I think is the right heading. There have been so many mornings when I have woken with a clear picture of why everything I wrote the day before was not quite right. I’d got the characters all wrong, or the focus was on the wrong thing, or I’d missed a key element, or…well…...

Journal of a New Novelist 21 (Quantum physics, Eric Morecambe and Schrödinger's cat)

I don’t pretend for one moment that I have a clue what quantum physics is all about. I just about managed ‘How to Teach Relativity to Your Dog’. Science isn’t my best subject – at least not the modern, brain-boggling stuff. Schrödinger's cat, as far as I’m concerned, ate the poison. It’s dead. The idea of two completely opposed states existing at the same time in the same place is beyond my ability to comprehend. It’s that simple. Which means I...

Journal of a New Novelist 20 (Cheese sandwiches, tomato soup, and Ithaka)

The thing about climbing a new mountain is that you’ll come across new places and other paths you had no idea were there. That is the nature of an adventure. You may plan your route as best you can in advance, based on what can only be limited knowledge. But that route is always destined to change in the light of what you find on the way. The adventure is not so much about getting to the top of the mountain, but on the unexpected things you see...

Journal of a New Novelist (Addendum)

I mentioned a while ago that I was working on a website to act as a journal and to document my novel writing experience. Well, it's up and running. It's not brilliant but there's plenty of time for improvement. You can find it here . Regards, AJ

Journal of a New Novelist 18 (Coming Out)

I have discovered recently the deliciously bohemian feeling one gets from writing in a humble high street coffee shop, especially early in the morning. If you have never tried it, I can not describe how good it feels. Scribbling away in a humble exercise book in full view of all the other customers does absolute wonders for the ego. There is something about the small cafe environment, its familiar feel and the smell of coffee that somehow melts...

Journal of a New Novelist 17 (Finding the diamonds in dawn's early light)

In those first moments of awakening, magic happens. During sleep, thoughts unravel, disconnecting as the mind relaxes. Maybe it is simply the brain’s way of sorting everything out into logical piles, like clothes laid out ready for the morning. Who knows? All that matters is that during sleep, for whatever reason, everything gets unplugged. As we begin to surface from unconsciousness, everything begins to reconnect. We start to become aware. As...

Journal of a New Novelist 16 (Web sites and broken dishwashers)

I had a bit of a Carveresque day yesterday which resulted in a late delivery of JoaNN 16. To cut a long story short, the dishwasher turned belly-up. After a great deal of time spent trying to work out why the door wouldn't shut, the fault was finally traced to an innocuous plastic component that apparently isn't made any more. So, being a little annoyed and fed-up, instead of my customary half-hour blogging session, I opened a bottle of Bordeaux...

Journal of a New Novelist 15 - WARNING: Black Dog on the loose

‘For reasons other than writer’s isolation, I have been in that place called Depression once before and I have no wish to go back there.’ Hemingway did not die well. Nor did he die quickly. That final blast of the shotgun may have been over in an instant but his mental health had for some years been descending into total ruin. It seems likely that his mental deterioration was due to a diagnosed physical condition that prevented his body from...

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