Two years in the making

Short update – today is my birthday. This is unimportant news on the whole as far as this blog goes, other than that it happens to be two years to the day since I started work on the novel I’m currently writing. At the moment I’m probably three quarters of the way through the first draft. I’ve finished the first two parts, and am going through the draft filling in blanks and taking out placeholder sections that shouldn’t be there. Then, with very little in mind apart from a vague conception of style and form, I have to write the third and final part, and who has any idea how long that will take?

All this is of no real interest to anyone but myself (at the moment, of course – I’m sure the Nobel Prize committee will take a keen interest once, if, it’s published … ) It’s just rare that I can pinpoint the exact moment I started writing something, especially something to which you have to commit yourself as fully as a long novel. The story launched itself into my head, cannibalising old ideas that I’d had rattling around for a decade or so. I’ve thought of little else since.

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