A Boring Day – The Climb #844

Tuesday 15^th June 2021

Today was another strangely boring day.

I had the other half of the garden to strim but despite common sense saying to do it early, I left it until the hottest part of the day. I still need to go at it again tomorrow, because despite strimming down most of the height, there’s still a good couple of inches that needs doing once the cut grass has dried out and sunk down a bit.

I’ve got a lot on tomorrow so if I don’t get to it, it won’t be the end of the world. It is due to start to rain from Thursday onwards, but the height is such I’ve bought myself up to a week or two – although at this time of year, who knows, perhaps it’ll be back to the height I’ve just trimmed it down from.

Those gardening sessions were probably the most exciting thing about my day, because for the rest of it, I was writing. I’m trying to get three writing sessions in a day at the moment: one first thing before the day starts, one around lunchtime and one in the late afternoon. I wish I could do more but other tasks I need to do, mean I don’t have any more time free.

I got just under another 4000 words done today. I’m at that bit where the story is starting to find it’s feet. Subplots are coming to the fore from nowhere, characters are getting deeper, and ideas that were just sketched out are becoming fuller. Were it not for the fact that I outline my novels quite heavily, a story getting a life of its own would worry me. But I’ve known the direction of the story and the single chapter beats for so long, that when these ideas manifest, they do so in the context of what’s to come.

They aid the story and not hinder it.

Walking home tonight I thought how much I’m actually really enjoying where the story is at the moment. Knowing my own process and how my head screws with me, this is just a sign that I am as far from an act change as I can be. As I make progress and things move from middle to end, watch me hate this novel once more.

I’ve learnt to ignore me hating on a story as it progresses from one act to another. Likewise, I don’t put too much weight behind loving the story. That will change, but like the hating, it’s all part of the emotional rollercoaster that is my journey through the first draft of a novel.

The important thing is that words got done, and I’m currently on a roll. I’ll make a point of enjoying it whilst it lasts. Because as much as it might make for a boring day, or a dull edition ofThe Climb, this is how novels get written.

One day at a time, often without drama or celebration.