Met Tom in the cafe attached to the minster and I was early so I sat for a while in one of the pews and listened to the organist practising. It was peaceful. Uplifting.
Afterwards I thought, I’d like to play soprano saxophone in here, the acoustics are great.
Tom’s doing fine, he just got his usually floppy hair cropped short and looks good. He’s got MS but refuses to be a victim, still works full-time, plays baritone sax in a couple of bands. Admirable chap.
Sold my bike today. The guy came in a big van and took it away.
I liked my bike, it. was old-school, sounded great, handled well and looked fantastic, but I didn’t use it enough to justify the space it took in my garage, and in my head.
This summer I will be a pedestrian.
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Popped along to MaccyDs tonight to do a little bit more editing. It’s quiet at night – they play classical music to keep away the feral teen, and that leaves it mostly empty, which is great.
All I need is a pen, a coffee and a print copy of whatever I’m working on, which I then deface with hundreds of little scribbles, and each line that has a scribble I’ll put an x at the beginning of the line to remind me there’s an edit. Just in case I miss it. You get scribble-blind so the Xs are useful.
Each page ends up like this. After I’ve edited each of the three hundred or so pages I then have to go back onto the computer and edit the actual text.
Then repeat the process.
And every now and again look at the structure and hack away big chunks, swap other chunks around, kill my darlings and so on.
It’s my favourite thing, editing.
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Jago is beginning to take shape – it’s still very loose and needs a lot more spadework before it’s even a proper draft, but it’s mostly there. There are bits I’ll have to take out, one in particular might be used as part of a sequel, which I definitely have in mind, in fact Jago is part of a trilogy, but that’s years away from being more than a few scattered scenes in my mind.
It’s strange how some characters just develop, more than intended, and how others have to step back at times.
I’m printing out each section and then going through it in detail, then I’ll redraft each section, then put it all together and see how it works. Then maybe another structural edit. Then further polishing. Etc.
This time next year it’ll be in shape.
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While I wait for the return of DN1, which needs a final edit prior to selling, I’m working through the first paper edit of Jago. Well, not quite Jago, it’s one of the appendices that accompany the story – it’s called Jesse and textually it’s where it needs to be, but it has dozens of little bits and bobs to amend and alter.
Just got to do the spade work.
We didn’t invent the world, we didn’t even name it: what we have now is built on ancient foundations. Good Christian festivals such as Easter and Christmas are found on older pagan festivals: Eastre is the pagan goddess of fertility; the Christ mass was grafted onto Yule, the pagan midwinter festival.
I find it comforting that even the names of days are ancient: today is Tyr’s day. Tomorrow is Woden’s day. Following that, Thor’s day. Then Freya’s day. Then Saturn’s day, then the Sun’s day and then the Moon’s day.
Dreamt of my old man: he came out of the fog and would have walked by me but I shouted and said, ‘Dad, don’t ignore me!’ He stopped and came back to me, we hugged for a moment, he was thinner than I remembered and he didn’t look me in the eye, and I could tell he needed to be elsewhere.