I am doing a Stephen King. By which I mean I am buckling
down to a very disciplined approach to my current MS. Two thousand words a day…and no excuses, Teresa.
It is early days but so far I am sticking to my guns. The house has never been so filthy.
At the moment the only thing I am worrying about apart
from writing…is making jam. ( See last post). Yes. This current craze continues unabated and I have added lemon curd to my
So - if you happen to venture across my threshold just now you will find plenty of delicious things to spread on toast, a very happy writer but a husband and a son who are forever hunting around for something to wear.
Laundry? Don’t be so boring…
All this mayhem came about when I happened upon a little quote from monsieur King suggesting one should finish the first draft of a manuscript within three months before you tire of the idea.
Gawd – was my first response. Three months? Is the man insane?
No, Teresa. He is very successful – also very disciplined. And he has a point. It is all too easy to tire of a MS, however much you believe in it, when the months drag by.
So I thought I would give this new strategy a bash. Two thousand words on at least five days each week ( OK, OK – I compromised slightly on the grounds we really ought to have food in the fridge, and a few things thrown in
the washing machine on occasion).
It is, to be honest, a bit like being taken hostage.
Such a good thing I married a man who doesn’t mind picking up an iron himself. And thank heavens he likes
Why don’t you try it yourself? A weekly word count goal. Strictly no cheating. Your house will be a complete tip. But you’ll have a book early in the New Year! OK - just a first draft with lots of work still to do but what an achievment. I'll keep you posted on how I get on. Bound to slow down I suspect ( there is the business of earning money, of course). But for now I am rather enjoying the madness of it.
And on the subject of earning money - my latest short story “Are we there yet?” is in Woman’s Weekly Nov 5th edition. It is for all empty nesters. For anyone, in short, who remembers that first, traumatic trip to leave your child at
Missing my elder son? Moi?
Teresa Driscoll - journalist, author, mother of two and lover of great coffee.