Having patiently sat in front of my "on it's last legs" printer this morning, I fed through sheet after sheet in order to print off part of the first chapter of my book together with the synopsis. I have spent the last week and a half giving this part of the book a thorough edit until I felt almost happy enough to parcel it off. I read through it over and over, realising that if I kept on changing it I would eventually need to re-write the whole synopsis. I have entered it into a competition with a view to receiving some feedback and hopefully being nominated for a prize. The latter is a lot of wishful thinking but one has to start somewhere. I like the story. I like my main character and have enjoyed editing the first 5,000 words. Writing about what I am most interested in is obviously at significant factor but taking the time to research my subject, often without my control, I have been able to really appreciate the woman who leads us through twelve months of her unusual life.
I felt quite proud as I passed the large brown envelope to the cashier asking her to send it 'Recorded Delivery'. She was even pleasant to me which made it all the more enjoyable. I gave the envelope a little kiss after I had sealed it, asking for a stroke of luck to come my way and perhaps a publisher or an agent to read my work with keen interest, desperate to make contact with me. My dad used to call me "Dilly Daydream" when I was a little girl.
Admittedly, having written the synopsis, I am now finding it easier to tune into my story, knowing what will happen in each chapter. It did change of course, several times before I was satisfied with the final draft. And after the new year, I decided to introduce a love interest for my main character, determined not to make it mushy or indeed explicit. I am hoping my mum will read it one day together with other members of my family and then realise that I am not a nun but am indeed a woman of the world. We never discuss things like sex and other such indulgences so as you see, I need to keep the sexual tension to a minimum.
But of course the story is not really about sex. It is about things that go bump in the night. And that certainly does not cover the subject of sex. In my life anyway. I have thought long and hard about the content of the story, getting to know my characters, becoming familiar with the house in which my main character lives and of course researching various aspects of what will actually make the book tick. Religion features highly, as does death, together with terminal illness. Hell, when you put it like that it sound utterly depressing. I suppose a lot of it is quite morbid, but we all enjoy a bit of variation in our lives and as several of my characters have already entered their next life, I think it might just make for interesting reading.
My mum said she will buy it anyway.
I told myself not to mention the kitchen in this post because I am sure by now you are all bored stiff by hearing about it, but, they have brought the installation date forward. Knowing it was clashing with the lambing, they have booked us in for the 25th February which means, all being well, we should have a nice newly fitted kitchen by the time lambing starts around mid March. I won't tell you I'm excited.