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Writing crap

I haven’t been doing very well lately on Book 2. Last week I looked at what I’ve done so far (15,000)and realied it’s AWFUL. The main character is vain and smug, her best friend is a cliche, the Mr Wrong is too attractive and the whole plot is pointless. And the tone of the whole thing is sad and dead.

However, a minor breakthrough came earlier this week when I realised I was doing something I did last time (ie with book 1) – I was making things too easy for my heroine. For example: in the scene I’ve recently written, she organises for some friends to get together for drinks on a summer’s evening. And everything goes fine. Lots of people show up; the weather is nice; the pub is a bit crowded but otherwise, all goes well and she meets a significant man.

Well, that could be made a lot more interesting, couldn’t it? Nobody wants to hear about a social event that goes smoothly. She can still meet the man, but if I throw in a few disasters then it becomes a lot more entertaining (or is that just me?)

Salvation also came in the form of a lovely post from Julie Cohen. Last week, when I was agonising about my title, she wrote a post on titles. This week, when I’m writing crap, she’s written a brilliant post on the importance of writing crap. Very inspiring, and very true …

OK. I’m off to write some more crap. Wish me luck!


  1. I will have to read Julie Cohen's post. On the subject of writing crap, I was chatting with a Rather Famous Writer a few months ago (as I so often do), who told me that he had just ditched a year's worth of work because it was crap. “You just have to do it”, he said.

    I don't want to have to do that! I suspect, in his position, I would quickly lower my standards šŸ™‚

  3. Yes, but the thing is, that the year's worth of work may have led him to something he could be proud of…so it wasn't wasted.

    That said…OUCH!!

    I'm really glad that my recent posts have helped you. I suspect it's not so much that I've read your mind, as that we writers are all exactly the same in our neuroses. Bloody predictable.

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