Thursday, 19 February 2015

Let the Sun Shine

Karol Bak


I've been hitting my head against a brick wall for the past couple of weeks with my new novel. Things were going swimmingly. Sailed over the 65k mark, headed into round two, when bham! Brick wall. A seemingly insurmountable scene change required.

Doom and gloom descended. It was all shit. The whole concept was crud. No point going on, nobody will ever read it...

(I'm sorry, distracted from blogging by that picture - doesn't she look like cracked crème brûlée?)

Anyway. Finally solved it yesterday. Switched from writing prose to writing poetry and nailed it. Sometimes desperation is a great motivator.

It's now brilliant. Best thing I've ever written! Guaranteed best seller.

Just done a kick-ass strategy workshop with an awesome organisation called Isaro Foundation. Love these guys. Hope to work with them more closely over the next few months. Promoting a literary culture in Rwanda, stocking libraries with books and supporting authors.

[NB: If you're a writer in Africa or the Middle East, check this before April 30th 2015.]

Man, my brain is exploding. My editor's swung me a spot on an impressive website, but I gotta write the article this weekend.

Meanwhile, a lovely lady contacted us to say the book is bloody good (ahfankyou) and will I do an interview for early March, which will be transposed (in part) into a magazine with a 10k circulation! Not sure what the circulation of Writing Magazine was, but I'm just madly amazed I made it into either, yet alone both.

BUT - I gotta write the answers.

Look, alright, I know I wanted to be a writer, but nobody told me how much writing was involved!

There's a lot of pressure to say something interesting. I'm sure I've lived an interesting life. I must have done, I'm typing this from Central Africa. But put me on the spot and I live inside a paper bag I can't find my way out of. That's the point of writing - you have time to think about it. Interviews aren't half so forgiving.

I'm very happy though.

My To Do list for tomorrow:

Wake up
Be 34

Realised I was about 27 when I first attempted to write a novel (Lucid). Haven't done too badly since then, but time does slip by fast. Owe it to myself to cut back on whatever isn't writing and get a move on with it. Certainly don't want to let another three years pass between releases. Not now I've found my groove. 

Ink me, baby.

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