The plodding of one word in front of another continues. As all the advice says there has to be a routine, a schedule of turning up at the blank screen. Agonising over what comes next, wondering where the plot might go, dreaming of characters saying this or that, is of no use whatsoever without sitting down and writing it. The story in my head will only take shape when I make the effort to get the words onto the page. The aim is that the reader conjures up from the page the same image I see in my mind’s eye. For that to happen there has to be a three dimensional shape to the characters otherwise they not only fall flat on their faces but fall flat on the page.
So just as chapter one is finished and I actually begin to think a flow is forming I realise that the main character cannot be called Jenny. Because she is too similar to a real life Jenny. So for my fictional tale to seem real I must use fake people. As with life in general, writing and reading is full of contradictions and paradoxes.
But as Anne Tyler says:
“If I waited till I felt like writing, I’d never write at all.”
The plodding continues one word after another and Jenny becomes Fiona.