I am supposed to be working on advanced drafts of two different novels. A self-inflicted 'supposed', that is. But this week I just began a new piece of work. I won't go into any detail about it - like a pregnancy in the first three months, it is far too soon, as I am only 16000 words into the first draft. However, the reason I am posting about it is because in an earlier post I said I had finally discovered a definite bias in my reading for novels that have a very concentrated focus and which use direct language with an almost puritan like tone. I also added that it is a style I too quickly lose faith in whenever I attempt it as a writer. And yet this new piece of work, whose working title is 'hiberbation' is so far in that mould. I feel quite pleased with myself, even though I am also very aware that it could go tits up and become abandoned. What I have learnt over the years is that all writing, no matter the style, the tone, the voice, bad/good whatever, it all adds to the honing of the craft and the development of the creative journey.
Slaves of Solitude, Patrick Hamilton
The Oxford Book of Death (!)
How Fiction Works, James Wood (excellent)
Flat Earth News, Nick Davies