I’ve poured myself a glass of coke and grabbed a bag of Lindt Lindor Truffles (extra dark). I’m back in the saddle, I’m playing a great song on repeat, I’m alone in my room and I’m ploughing through Crude Sunlight, bringing it back to life. Characters who have remained static and dead for these long past months are suddenly talking and moving again. Their emotions have quickened, and like hoary cavemen discovered in blocks of ice and reanimated by science, are now in the process of moving the plot forwards.
I feel almost amazed as I type. It’s been a long time since I’ve worked on this story. Since I’ve inhabited the minds of Thomas and Julia, worked at the mysteries that lurk in the steam tunnels below the State Hospital, at the terrible end that awaits them all. I wrote some 3000 words last night, and am already 1,500 words in. I’m going to finish Chapter 6, putting me at 50,000 words thus far. I worked out that if this were published as a normal book, I’d have already written 200 pages.
The Lindor Truffles have been kept in the fridge, and thus their liquid filling has grown hard, cool to the tongue. Biting them results in their immediate swallowing, killing your ability to savor them, so instead I keep each in my mouth like a gobstopper, lolling it about my tongue as I type, melting the outer layers till I reach the hardened center, which disolves so deliciously in my mouth.
Ok, going back to Crude Sunlight. And oh – I sent it to a friend to read, and hot damn if they didn’t actually start on it. They read the prologue and the first chapter in the subway, and nearly missed their stop. If that ain’t a promising sign I don’t know what is, so here’s to hoping the next chapters keep him as hooked. In the meantime, I’ve got to get back to writing if I’m going to keep ahead of him.