I caught up yesterday with the guy who might be my partner in my mystery project. Not much to report. We met last month at which point we came to a tentative agreement and he went of to conduct a tech feasibility study. It hasn’t progressed beyond that as he’s suddenly in the process of buying out his business partner. Not surprisingly that’s taking up all his mind space. We’ve deferred our next meet for another hour.
I’m not as impatient as I might be. Nothing is certain, but I guess I feel it’s on the right track. And I’m more convinced than ever that it’s a goer. I’ve got people ready to sign up now. Pretty keen, and genuine gap in the market. Watch this space.
My writing is progressing too. I’m reduced to writing on weekends only, but I’m putting a lot of energy into it. It’s a bit of a tease right now. I’ve nearly finished the second draft, but getting there slowly. The good news is that all that focus is paying off.
Back in December I really struggled for about three weeks. I seemed to have run out of words and ideas back then, and any creativity had to be worked at hard. I tend to think that defeats the meaning of it. Creativity is something light and airy. It floats above and beyond, lifted, shifted, shaped by randomness and whimsy and moments of inspiration, shaped by intent. It becomes earthbound if you have to work too hard at it. I guess that’s why some people are creative, and others aren’t.
Thankfully that creativity has returned to me. I’ve applied it two days a week and I think I’m writing better than ever. I’m surprised when I read back at just how good some of the stuff is – how real it seems, how deep it goes, and how good it reads.
I think part of that is because I’m writing only two days a week. It means that much of the stuff I might right day by day otherwise is winnowed out by the process of thinking through it on those non-writing days and mentally editing it. When I come to sit down to write I know what I want to say, and it’s pretty pure.
The other thing is that I’ve learned to write better by writing this book. It’s like being a footy player and being good enough to run around in the seconds. Then one day you get a run in the firsts and it’s tough but you learn so much and your development is accelerated because the competition is so much keener. Within a few weeks you’re matching it with the big boys.
Writing a novel is like graduating to the firsts. I’ve really focused hard on what I wanted to achieve and, in the footy parlance, put my body on the line. Repetition and study and applied intelligence means that it’s much better than it was – or so I think. I have little doubt about the quality of the writing – the only question is whether it hangs together in its entirety. I think it does, but I don’t know if I can judge.
There will be a third draft. I’m experiencing much the same thing I did finishing the first draft. I’ve improved so much that I want to go back and ‘fix’ where I began. If I do say so myself, I think it’s an intelligent book. But fuck, I could be wrong.
Finally, got home tonight and there’s an email waiting for dangling the opportunity to do some consulting. I’m bloody wary. Let’s say I agree to it and I get the job, etc. What happens at the end of it? Notwithstanding what I wrote yesterday, is it sensible to quit the job I’m in, and potentially burn my bridges? But then, I have to take (another) risk sometime. And this is what I want. This is what I have to get back into, and it sounds a reasonable prospect.
I’m very suss though. I’ve had emails like this before and nothing ever eventuated. Odds on it’s the same this time. But, I guess I have nothing to lose by investigating further…