I've been dithering. I've been aware of this fact for a few weeks now, but have put it down to life taking over: sudden decision to move house; head-hunted for a new job - that's another story, the upshot of which is that I'm staying put for now, although changing working hours; children returning from University and up-ending my daily routine - think I've mentioned previously the effect of the return of the students; various birthday celebrations; acquisition of kitten who is a great time waster and last but not least mother having knee op. Yes, yes, life goes on and some of those really can't be held as reasonable excuses for not writing, but it all boils down to the fact that I'm dancing around re-drafting the second half of the novel not actually writing it. I've even started a third edit on the first half, so as to avoid the re-write of the second.
It occurred to me this morning, as I carried on avoiding the second half re-write, even though it was lurking in the corner of my mind jeering at me that I just wasn't writer enough to tackle it, that this is because I think it's turning my hero into someone I don't want him to be. He's softer in the first version. And making him more emotionally shut down and stand-offish goes against his occupation, which requires him to be open and caring and empathetic. It therefore leaves me with the same problem that I had before, which is needing to create a bigger crisis. I need more of a Nemesis or Oblivion, less of a local fun-fair tea cups ride.
That said, it does still mean that the second half needs serious re-writing, just not the complete jettisoning of the original. So, back to the drawing board, then.
Anyone who says that writing a book is easy obviously hasn't tried it.
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