Growling morning and musings

Urrr, I've already realised by chapter 4 that a lot of this absolutely fabulous writing I'm doing here will have to go. Including one of those effing excerpts down there. 

Too much chat and not enough movement. That's what happens you get a bunch of gay police officers in a book, all they want to do is stop investigating the crime to discuss their feelings, compare the price they paid for their off-duty clothes an borrow each other's deodorant in the showers... 

Okay, channelling my grumpy sergeant there. I feel like a grumpy sergeant this morning. It's always a bit bottom-of-the-sine-wave when I've sent something off anywhere. Now I have to get stuck into the hard work of the other 90 or so K.

Less chat, more murders! That will be my watchword from now on! Actually, what I'll do, what I always do, I let em natter on for 120K or so then cut all the blah out and I end up with a book that's about the size I want out. Jeez, that sounds like I wrote hundreds of the things... it's what seems to work so far.

This is my fourth. I think - no, I wrote a couple of novels years ago but they were more fanfiction than anything, I didn't make up the milieu, just the characters and plot and stuff. 

Then I wrote one that was really a collection of (very raunchy) linked short stories with illustrations, no less.

Next I wrote a steampunk novel at the end of 2010 which needs revising as the ending, well, let's just say it has Patented Dyson technology for no loss of suction. One of those what WAS I thinking moments.

Then I had a ghastly 2011. No writing to speak of, at least, none I want to admit to. In 2012 I did NaNoWriMo and that resulted in a fantasy novel that needs the fuck of a lot of work on it. I'll do that later. It's part of a series that I've written part of already, but the one I did for NNWM is pretty far on in the series so there's no rush to sort it out. The first one was suffering from slack lazy won't-write-an-outline writer syndrome so I left it on one side for a bit. Rather than keep on writing stuff I'd just have to delete.

Now this - it is a crime novel and I must say, I've always wanted to write one. Which is what I should be doing, having reached the point where I've realised I'm just putting it off. Well, I had a huge bowl of muesli to get through but there's only a spoonful of milk and a couple of raisins left so - nose to the grindstone. That does sound painful, doesn't it? I mean, suppose you got that little pumice thing you rub off dry foot skin with, and you applied it to your nose instead? Ouch, yes?