For various reasons I ended up writing on the road yesterday, almost literally. Circumstances meant I didn't against staying home to write. Life in one room gets pretty tiresome, I need a day out every now and then - but I also needed to progress Fiends 3 to have any hope of finishing the bugger today. So, armed with my iBook and iPod (I am Steve Jobs' bitch when it comes to techno gadgets), I spent 90 minutes sat in a car yesterday afternoon, typing like mad. I bashed out 1500 words in that stint, before relocating to the kitchen table at an acquaintance's home - another hour, another 1000 words. I've always been bemused by scribes who say they write best in cafes and pubs, the idea seemed anathema to me. I'm used to writing as a solitary activity, best done in a small room with a closed door and as few distractions as problem. [I love broadband but it's a bugger when struggling to stay focused.]
Anyway, I got 2500 words down, moved all my pawns into place for the big finish and am now about to embark on the blood-soaked finale. Not convinced I'd make a habit of writing on the road - it's 30 miles to the nearest Starbucks, for a start - but with the iPod blocking out the white noise around me and creating a little writing cocoon, it is at least possible now.
Even procrasti-bloody-nation. Back to the book. Let wailing and gnashing commence, let death and blood-letting be unconfirmed, let acpocalyptic mayhem run loose in the dungeons of Transylvania. Enjoy your Sunday afternoon folks, I should resurface by nightfall...
2 comments:
You wuss. I wrote an entire Black Flame novel on my palmtop, and in the pub.
Hark at the Gonzo novelist! Not being a smoker, your Dylan Thomas-esque writing milieu is not for me - at least, not until after March 26th when the Scottish Executive bans smoking in pubs (with some exception).
Besides, I like being near all my reference books - two shelves and counting for the Fiends trilogy - they're a source of comfort when inspiration fails.
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