Editing and re-write time

This morning I typed in a sentence, checked the word count and clopped the lid of the laptop down – end of the first draft of The hundred and fifty-eighth book. There’s a vast plain stretching out ahead of corrections, continuity problems, dates to check, characters to complete, people to beguile into reading, etc etc, but it’s always an interesting feeling – to step back from making up a world in your head and re-join normal life without the ‘so what might happen when Hamish meets so and so’ stuff going on, at least quite so much.

I’ve started imagining a follow-on story, as is often the case when I’ve grown fond of a character and it seems odd to wave goodbye as if from a train disappearing around a bend – ‘wait, no! let’s get together again – soon, a chat, tell me how it’s going . . . we could work on something else perhaps . . .

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One of the photos I will make into pen and ink drawings for the book, taken on a frigid January day 2017

 

To state or not to state

I don’t really set out to write with any particular age group in mind – well, perhaps not ‘kids’ as the language and occasional scenes might not be appropriate – mind you after being told to fuck off by a three year old when I had stopped to tie a shoe-lace outside his gate when I was last in the UK – maybe not . . .

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Anyway, I’ve just been told by someone in the ‘industry’ that it must be stated, categorised, pigeon-holed, marked out and carved in stone – what is the age of the reader? I don’t know. I really don’t. I’ve had readers of twenty through to eighty-five and many in between who all seem to chomp their way through the book and give hearty feedback.

I was greatly pleased to find this wonderful Will Self talking to Will Self ‘interview’ where, amongst other subjects he discusses this very thing and concludes that it is probably a mistake to alienate possible audiences though stating ‘reader age’.

https://www.theguardian.com/books/video/2014/sep/03/will-self-interviews-will-self-video

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I remember my mother raising an eyebrow when I was in the middle of reading Papillon when I was twelve and then notching the brow a tad higher when I came back with a copy of Sexus, ‘borrowed’ from the shelves where I used to babysit as a fourteen year-old. I don’t think it did me any harm, and how many ‘Oldies’ have I seen on trains reading Harry Potter and teen vampire stuff? I don’t suppose anyone envisaged such a readership crossover at the time of the initial editorial meetings.