It's been one of those days; the only writing I've really got done is some post-it note assessments of children at school to share with my colleagues (along the lines of: Arwenna doesn't know how to bite into a pear yet; Trav is terrified of pencils). Oh, and updating facebook, of course. (Do ten words count?)
Instead of pointing out failures, though, I should mention that I did work out tonight, and while my legs were knotting themselves up to a cry of 'grapevine!' I was busy mentally fleshing out a character who had been inserted into the first draft indecently late. He's a police officer, and I was being lazy first time around. I knew researching him would take time. But the story baulked over the lack of him; the plot wouldn't lie straight. I gave in three quarters of the way through the first draft, and now, in rewriting/editing mode, I've got to go back to the beginning and put him in.
It's exciting to be back at a blank-page, creating stage. I'm enjoying the editing to some extent, but it's the first time in a few weeks that my fingers have itched this much! Perhaps I'll delay bedtime and get some real writing done, without a post-it in sight...
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