Saturday Night: Burning the Midnight Oil.

There are times when you just have to write. Last night a scene came to me out of the blue, and I just had to write it down because otherwise I would probably have forgotten it. So, around midnight, I ended up writing about 900 words of dialogue between the two main characters in the book that is my first attempt at fiction. 

I am finding that I am not writing the story from start to finish in one go, in that while I have the story in mind, a beginning, middle, and end, things tend to change as I go along. Then ideas for inclusion at any point in the story just tend to come to me. I start at the beginning of course, but at some stage, what I have already written, may need a re-write to include the new ideas. Seems like an anarchic way of doing things, but that is the way that I write. I suppose it is just the way that my mind works. It doesn't give me the whole story from the start!

That's what happened last night. The dialogue I wrote will be included in a later chapter that I am still some way off from writing. The scene is written now, and other than the inevitable editing, it is waiting to be included in that chapter, whenever I get to it.

I Guess That's Progress...

Ten Signs of an English Baby Boomer.

1) You ate sugar sandwiches, because jam was not available.

2) You had an aunt who would cut your hair.

3) The local library was the internet.

 4) You are old enough to remember when England won the World Cup.

5) You had to put money into a coin meter for electricity.

6) A cost of living crisis was the norm.

7) You watched television pictures of a man landing on the moon.

8) The girl next door was probably your best friend.

9) There were only two, then three television channels, and even then, the adults complained that there was nothing worth watching.

10) The toilet was outside, in the backyard. 

Such was life.