A work in progress...37

I checked one of my previous blogs. I started the new draft on November 28 and I've already written 15,000 words. I'm aiming to wite it in three sections of roughly 20,000 so hopefully I can get the first part finished over the weekend.

I want to get a second draft written by Jan 19, my daughter's birthday, and the day I actually started writing the book. I have lots of time off over Christmas, but whether I'll get time to write is a different matter.

The characters are really developing, Nat, the main character's girlfriend is holding the structure together, just as she holds him together. The narrative seems pacey and jumps about but to me anyway seems coherent.

Busy at work, two weeks to go before I finish for Christmas.

Had a couple of quotes in for the printing of the poetry collection. Will launch it after Christmas.

A work in progress...36

Had a good weekend writing, seem to do lots. My wife was busy and went out saturday night so I spent the whole evening writing, instead of watching a movie.

The kids were great. Did lots of stuff with them during the days, including checking out the local library and starring in a christmas play that me daughter wrote.

I took them to a soft ballpark for lunch yesterday and managed to read the papers, my wife was at the cafe/gallery. She sold a painting for £280, which is a bonus. The new desktop computer arrived on saturday, which I've hid until Christmas.

Every time I get my laptop out to work the kids want to commandeer it to play spongebob square pants games. Listened to to some cool modern jazz, ambient techno and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! over the weekend, courtesy of my friend James, the DJ.

Everything's dropping into place with the novel, the new style suits my style, I'm trying to get the first part written by next weekend - it's going to be in three chunks of 20,000 words. Up to about 12,000, the narrative really moves, the plots jumps around a bit, but that's intentional, the two characters hold it together. I'm having fun writing in a woman's voice, and I believe it works.

Manically busy at work, three deadlines to meet, but feel energised. Lot's of Christmas parties coming up as well, which maybe a distraction.

Watched Life Acquatic, which was a disappointment, turned it off after an hour.

A work in progress...35

The writing's going very well, almost up to 10,000 of the re-write and it seems much more fluid and natural.

Feeling better energy wise, I did yoga yesterday and had a couple of early nights and have not drunk much over the past weeks. Also got some echinacea to boost my immune system, I can't afford to be off this month, it's going to be very busy at work with three deadlines before Christmas. It should be a good month moneywise, which is a relief.

Christine hurt her back and has been in bed for two days, kids playing up a bit.

I'm getting costs on printing for my poetry collection. Will organise a reading/launch at Art & Soul in Andover and the poetry cafe in London early next year. Might ask Al if he wants to play a few tunes, would be good to find a DJ to play some backing tracks.

May also sell an electronic version of the collection, which is called, Shredded Wheat, through the blog. In a way the poetry has given me my voice, all the poems were written while I was in HK, so all I had to do was edit them and design the booklet. It was a very satisfying side project.

I can't believe I've kept going with the book. I could have easily had a block on it, but feel as though now I have really broken through a barrier.

A work in progress...34

I feel like devoting all my time to the book, but it's just not possible. It's been a busy month/year and I'm beginning to feel exhausted.

I tell everyone that I've finished the first draft of my novel and proudly proclaim that I've written 80,000 words. In truth I abandoned it, but the new version is really taking shape, written in the first person and it seems so fluid. I'm using most of the material in the first draft and re-writing it in the new style.

I'm going to aim to keep it short, the book I have in mind is Kerouac's The Subtarraneans, which I read many years ago. It's about his brief, intense relationship with a girl. I'm still reading Joyce and revisiting The Wasteland.

I've written 6,000 words of the new draft, I wanted to spend the weekend wrtiting, but I was exhausted and the children were all poorly, as well as my wife. I ended up baking Denis The Menace buns and a groovy chick cake on Sunday, such is life.

Got a very busy December then I have two weeks off over Christmas. The kids are getting a desktop computer for Christmas, which I hope will free up my laptop on a weekend.

I'm trying to get a second draft of 60,000 words written by Jan 19, the day I started the book.

I have also edited a collection of poetry which I'm going to publish in the new year.

I want to write more, but I'm feeling drained. It's been a tough year.

A work in progress...33

I can't believe a month has almost passed since my last blog.

I had a nasty viral infection which laid me low for about a week, and then there were deadlines at work etc so not much time or inclination to write. I even stopped work on the book. I was getting terribly confused and have been trying to figure out where it was going. I didn't write anything for about a week but I didn't abandon it all together.

Joyce's Ulysses has really opened things up for me and has shown me the way. I have written 77,000 words and could easily go on, but I re-read the completed opening chapters and decided it was not what I wanted to write. I have decided to change the voice and tone of the novel, keeping the characters and most of the narrative and scenarios, but writing it in the first person. I want it to be a spontaneous piece of prose that the reader simply can't put down. I'm going to go back to Jack Kerouac's The Subtarraneans has an influence. This was quite short, focused on a relationship and was intense. I remember reading it pretty much in one go.

I'm also using some ot the techniques of Joyce and Elliot. I'm looking at the book as one long poem, I don't care about the structure, in this respect it may have the feel of DJ mix, I'm sampling all sorts of stuff, lots of references, but most importantly it's going to be original.

Feeling very excited. I have already started rewriting, I'm going to really go for it, not bother about word counts - it may make only 40,000 words, I don't care. I have pretty much done all the hard work, I have fleshed out the characters, kind of know what works and what doesn't, so it's really down to me.

Money has been a big problem, I'm earning a good wage but it doesn't seem to be enough to support a family of four. This has caused some depression, at times I feel like giving in, why bother? But at the end of the day I do love writing. I am goping to get there, I can feel it, I know it.

A work in progress...32

I keep reciting TS Eliot's The Wasteland.

Started to read Ulysses, still ploughing through the introduction, but like the idea of the book as one long poem. Also read a story in The Guardian about Tristram Shandy. Sounds like Sterne used some of the methods incorporated by Mark Z Danilewski in House of Leaves: ie little typographical flourishes and bland pages or black pages and chapters randomly pasted in. I must get a copy, maybe read it after Ulysses.

Had a dream last night that I found a picture in a book, someone's life story, the picture was of a party and there was my wife and I in our younger days, looking happy and carefree.

The writing is still going well, I write almost everyday, and I still enjoy it. I'm dealing with a lot of father/son issues as I delve into the character's [Nat] past. Very difficult to get the tone right, but it's getting there.

Also been thinking of Samuel Beckett's Godot.

It's so hard to find the right voice, and keep the belief going.

A work in progress...31

I finished The House Of Leaves by Mark Z Danielewski last week. When I finally got to the end it was a relief, never has a book demanded so much of me. It was almost harder reading it than writing my own. I enjoyed it more for its style, the prose was incredibly inventive and it has inspired me to think differently about my own writing.

I am now reading Ulysses. The book has been sat on my bookshelf untouched for 12 years. I am hoping it will provide me with more inspiration and give me some kind of steer on my own book.

Managed to do a bit of writing at the weekend, but not much. Writing in the first person still and up to almost 75,000 words. At times I feel like abandoning the whole thing, as I'm not clear on where its going and if i can pull it off. But I am perservering, I write mostly on the train and that daily input is crucial as it keeps the momentum going and the word count ticking over. Even if I write 100,000 words of a first draft and edit it down to 50,000 I would be happy.

The title for my book is The Vitruvian Man.

A work in progress...30

My friend Jenny the successful writer has got back to me with comments about the three chapters I sent her.

On the whole she thought it was good, she liked the opening and the main character. She did however criticise the detail, or over use of detail and thought it was weighing down the narrative. She also liked the evocation of smells and iconic imagery, which was good.

It proves I can write, which is also encouraging.

Her comments were particularly interesting and I'm going to take them on board. I was afraid that my prose may come over pedestarian or plodding, after so many years in journalism, and was consciously trying to make it come alive with detail. I may hav gone overboard a bit with the similies. This is not a problem, as they come quite easily, literally one after the other, which I try and avoid. I just love writing and the richness of writing but maybe I should try and be more controlled. It's finding that fine line between being boring and non-descriptive and imaginative, while keeping the narrative going.

I feel as though it's quite pacey at the moment so if I edited it down further I may find that medium. At the moment I'm just writing, writing writing, trying to get it all down. It's all over the place at the moment, and I've started to write in the first person, so it's very confusing, but I'm still focused on the main plotline but really just want to get the foundations up and write 80,000+ words.

A work in progress...29

Too many distractions. Too Many ideas.

I seem to be losing my way with the book, I've got to 70,000 words, but it's all a muddle with no coherent narrative or voice. I've scrapped the idea of publishing or editing it online, although I may publish bits on this blog. I'm getting confused by striving to make the writing original and not conform to the traditional structure of a novel. I havew been hugely influenced by Mark Z Danielewski's House of Leaves, but trying to emulate such a work is way beyond my capabilites. I do however think the influence of DJs and film editors is one to follow, and I'm going to try and blend all the stories into one mix and create a dynamic read.

I have the rest of the week off and I'm going to get my writing pants on and get the bloody thing finished. I also have lots of feature ideas that I'm working on for the newspaper, some are interesting and will be fun to do. I also need the cash, as ever.

I wish I could sit all day and just write, but unfortunatley I have to work, having said that I have a cool job which at least doesn't take all my time and energy.

Once I have some semblance of order I'm going to start talking about the book more and psoting sections, I feel as though I need feedback.

A work in progress...28

I managed to find a new Moleskine notebook after a trawl around London's West End on Friday. Finances are particularly bad again this month so can't afford a richie hawtin CD, but got a download off the internet. I didn't do much writing over the weekend, just didn't have any energy. Hung out with the kids, read the papers and watched a couple of movies.
Wrote some more first-person stuff on the train this morning. Trying to work out a rhythm and ending for the book.
Got excited about writing in the moleskine, little things like that inspire me. I want to fill it full of beautiful poetry and prose. I write with an auto pencil, and it feels so natural and organic. I have two days off work this week and maybe the weekend to write. I'm going to try and write another 10,000 words and aim to tie up all the loose ends and then get down to work on editing it.

A work in progress...27

Block Island

Got a travel story published on the Guardian website on Wednesday. It's on Block Island, I wrote it last year when I visted the Newport Jazz festival, also for The Guardian. Click on "Block Island" above to check out the link.

I need a new Moleskine. Going to leave work early and go in to central London. The magazine has gone to press so I'm going to get a bit more time in the next couple of weeks to write. I'm going to try and buy Richie Hawtin's Decks EFX and 909 album and maybe use it as a template for the structure of my book.

I'm definitely going to change the voice to the first person and am seriously considering editing it 'live' online, through a blog. I like the idea of fluidity and the greater freedom it will give me. I'm also intrigued as to what feedback I'll get if any.

Stayed over in London at Al's last night. Got completely wasted, listening to live tapes of the band we once played in, called Rough Mix. See the link below "Rough Mix" for more on that part of my life.

Rough Mix

A work in progress...26

Written almost 70,000 words of the first draft.

I've made two major decisions. I'm going to change the voice and write in the first person, instead of third. It suits my style. I played around with an opening paragraph and it worked, I felt much more at ease and it sounded more spontaneous. I re-wrote a section about the London bombings; whereas before it sounded like a plodding news report, now it is much more abstract and poetic. It was intensely liberating, the words just flowed and if felt very comfortable.

I have been feeling that my writing was going down a cul-de-sac. Almost 70,000 words and still no idea of how the book is going to end. I've been trying to write to a formula which is not my style.

I'm going to abandon the book format and explore writing it as a blog, in short sharp bursts maybe with links to other characters. I'm going to keep the plot, storyline and characters, but I hope that by writing for a different format I'll be free of convention. I feel very excited. The results will be immediate, I don't know how it's going to go, I'm exploring all possibilities.

The Last Waltz

Watched this film last night on TV. I first watched it as a 17-year-old; living at home on the dole, wondering what I was going to do with my life. Neil Young's Helpless perfectly expressed my state of mind. Bob Dylan came on and sang Forever Young and I Will Be Released. I remember thinking at the time how cool he looked and his music reached out to me, gave me hope - just as it does now 25 years later. As I watched it again, I saw the film in a different light, I could appreciate Scorsese's filming - I doubt if I'd even heard of him first time around; maybe, as I saw Taxi Driver quite early on and was aware of Mean Streets. Joni Mitchell looked like a Goddess, Neil was Neil, Van the man was a dude as was Dr John. These dudes probably looked ancient to my teenage perceptions, now they looked all so young. Although I did go on to achieve lots of things in my life - I played jazz in Austria, became a journalist, travelled, played in bands - I still had the same feelings of frustration last night as I remember experiencing all those years ago. It seems the only thing that has changed since then is that now I have two children and I know who Lawrence Ferlinghetti is - he came on stage and read a poem. I'm still searching, but for what I don't know, I've achieved everything I wanted to, apart from be a writer, which is why I'm writing this blog and why finally, finally, I am writing a book. This must be my destiny, because why else would I do it? I should be enjoying life; I have got the house and car, wife and kids; it's a Sunday, I should be out doing the gardening, D I Y-ing, looks like dying? Instead I write. I Love my wife and kids, that's not an issue...they are my inspiration.

In 25 years time I will be 67. I wonder if I'll revist The Last Waltz again and look back at where I was at.

Cobralingus

I'm halfway through Mark Z Danielewski's House of Leaves; i read it mainly on the bus during a 20 minute journey across London to work. This is after spending an hour on the train writing my own book. As you can imagine my head is well and truly scrambled by the time I get to work, and then I have to edit and produce a magazine. I do the same on the way home but in reverse. By the time I get home, I'm a complete vegetable. I just have time to read the kid's a bedtime story - Percy the Park Keeper or Gruffalo comes as a relief.

I can't believe the House of Leaves is five years old, I've only just discovered it; in future all books should be written like this. Its graphic use of text and its whole style is like nothing i've ever read before, it's opened my eyes to the possibilities of what words can do, not only by their meaning but sheer presence on a page. As a newspaper editor I'm aware of the graphical elements of text, but I've never seen it used in this way in a book before. It's like reading Irvine Welsh's Trainspotting and trying to decipher the Scottish dialect, both are original and demand more from the reader.

In my previous posts I have talked about drums and jazz and composition, and I was searching for a method to write in a different way, make it avant-garde and not use the same old template that has been used by novelists for the past 300 years. I could understand what Danielewski was doing with the format and structure of his novel; he's incorporatd highly visual techniques that film makers use. I want to do something similar; approach writing from a different angle, see it in a new medium and for me music is the answer. As I write this I'm listening to Gorecki's 3rd Symphony, a wonderful avant garde piece of music that is lyrical and moving. The three movements tell a different story but they all blend into eachother. As I was researching the House of Leaves I came across an article on the web by Jeff Noon on how writers should adopt techniques used by DJs and film makers; ie cut and splice, use jump cuts and freeze frames, slow-mo, mixing, scratching and sampling.

William Burroughs did this to an extent with Naked Lunch, so it's nothing new, but what Noon is saying is that this is the future, this is how we process information "fluid mediums" for a "fluid society".

He has developed a sofware engine that will scramble text, a bit like how DJs sample and mash up music. It's a fascinating idea and it's designed to fire the writer's imagination. Check it out at http://www.codexbooks.co.uk/book.html

A work in progress ...25

I feel like playing drums. Playing along to some jazz and letting go. I have an old drumkit up in York which I'm going to go collect. My son, Noah, is five and he has already got a good style and loves to play. We play sometimes on my borther's kit when we're back home. My nephew Dan also plays, so it's a bit of a family thing.

With my writing I'm trying to get a rhythm going and am thinking of writing as a jazz composition. I want to recreate that freedom of improvisation, go off on a solo, change the accent, change the tempo, nuance but always come back to the beat.

I'm writing a very disciplined section, it's almost in real time and my style is to default to journalism. I need to record certain events like the London bombings, which I experienced, I want to convey the feeling of July 7 to the reader, but in an abstract way - hence the jazz.

Maybe when I get home I'll put on some John Coltrane ot Art Blakey.

We've been listening to Antony and the Johnsons over the weekend, my wife says it's ideal music to paint to, but too intense to write to; but I like it all the same.

Still writing everyday, which is good, but papargraphs are coming painfully slow.

A work in progress...24

During my ashtanga yoga practise yesterday I experienced a truly uplifting experience. I have been trying to do a proper backbend for at least two years - it's that crablike position where you go up on all fours in an arc with your head thrown backwards. I thought it would take me a million years to achieve this posture, but yesterday I rose up like a God; it was as if someone had their arms around my torso and lifted me, but it was my own energy. My head was off the ground and my arms and legs were at full stretch before I realised what had happened; it was such an exhilarating experience.

It's given me confidence in my writing; at the moment i'm plodding trying to work out some kind of narrative/plot for the two main characters and it just seems so pedestrian. I need a flash of brilliance; a creative release of energy to make the words rise up from the page to make all the toil worthwile.

An agent has been in touch, requesting I send in three chapters. This is quite promising - at least I've made some kind of personal contact. The downside is that she workds for the same company as the first agent i sent it to. The MS will probably go into the same readers' pool as last time, so I don't feel too positive about sending it in. On the other hand, what have i got to lose?

A work in progress...23

The writing is still going well, I bring the laptop to work everyday and beaver away on the train. I've decided to set the story in the present and use the bombings in London as one of the main catalysts which leads to the mental breakdown of my main character, Nat. I was in the capital for the first attacks, so have first hand knowledge of the situation. I'm trying to write about in an abstract way, see it through the character's eyes, rather than write it as a journalist. This is proving difficult, because I want to write it as a news feature rather than in a creative, literary way. I'm trying to be realistic and give the reader a sense of the horror, but what's at stake for me and the character is the psychological impact it has. I'm going into unchartered waters, but the early results are promising. It just takes time. I scrutinise every word of every sentence to try and not make it read like a news report.

I'm up to about 60,00 words, a lot still needs editing, but I feel the foundations are going up and are strong. I work on the book every single day, I feel as though I'm neglecting family, and to an extent friends, but I have to keep going. I have been close to giving up on it on several occasions; but I have to write, whether it's good or crap; I write because it's the beauty of writing that I like most of all.

I am reading the House of Leaves by Mark Z Danielewski. An awesome book, and a debut novel, it makes my attempt look like a magazine feature. But it's inspiring all the same. It's highly complex structure shows what can be achieved with the printed word and I am trying to weave similar subplots in my novel, but in a different style.

A work in progress...22

Having my first doubts about the book. After all the early momentum I seem to be running out of steam. It's starting to feel confused, I'm not sure if its making sense - What happens, why it happens? I need to ask myself these questions and try and keep it simple. I'm going to try and write another 30,000 words and hopefully all the bits will then fall into place. The only way to do this is bring the laptop with me to work and write on the train. I feel as though I just need to write the damn thing, not worry too much about the editing at this stage, just get all the foundations down. There are some good bits, of that I'm sure. One thing I'm not certain about is detail, how much to put in or leave out. It's trial and error, I guess. I want to try and get a first draft done by Christmas. I should just write for the joy of writing, and not worry about the bigger issues. I've been working on the book now for eight months so I must see it through to the end. I can't give up at this stage with 60,000 words written.
The Bank Holiday weekend was hot, with glorious sunshine - played in the pool in the garden with the kids most of the time. Had a great time, it was good to switch off.

A work in progress...21

Finished the magazine today and feeling inspired about the book. We have a long weekend as it's a holiday on monday in the UK and would like to get some writing done, although this may prove difficult as the kids and my wife will no doubt have other ideas. If the weather's good I may take them to the beach one day. I also hope to do some yoga, I feell I need warrior energy, to help me write - and I want to go out on my bike. Not sure how I'll fit everything in.
I stayed at Al's last night, where I went for week to write in the summer. It was good to see him and elizabeth. We went for a couple of drinks in Greenwhich and then went back to the flat for a few more beers, some good grass and The Who by Numbers. Made it into work realtively unscathed this morning and feeling sharp and inspired. I also feel like playing drums again - I have this urge to play in jazz band and be totally free of pressure and responsibility. I've just got paid and I'm totally skint, which is depressing. May have to take on some freelance work.

A work in progress...20

The family arrived back from their holiday last Thursday so I spent the weekend catching up with them. I took my children swimming, bike riding an too McDonald's etc and had a good time. I put the book on the back-burner, didn't even open the laptop all weekend. Talked about making an imovie about my wife, who's an artist and would make a fascinating subject, and would throw some insights into the creative process. Trying to set my book in the prestent, ie the last four months and write about real events such as the london bombings and LIve8.
This will give some athenticity to my main character, who suffers a breakdown which is precipitated by real events. It needs a bit of a rethink, and I'm struggling to bring all the disparate sections I've written into one narrative. However, if I get the core of the story right, everything else should slot into place. I have been writing it now for eight months, which is nothing, I know, but I can feel the nergy waning. This week I'm on deadline at work, so I'm not going to be able to do much work. I need to bring my laptop on the train with me and starting writing everyday again, and get at least one draft finished.
Woody Allen was filming in our office last week. Apparently his film is set in a newspaper office, so he used ours. Had my manuscript being ready I would have tried to pass him a copy.
Just writing this blog is giving me inspiration. I must keep going.

A work in progress...19

The writing's stalled a bit. I'm still working on the book almost everyday but not writing as much. I'm working on the relationship of the two characters, which is going to be short and brief, rather than anything longterm with history.

I had an amzing time in London. Went to bed about 6am on Saturday morning and then spent the rest of the day hanging out in a couple of bars and pubs in the Brick Lane area of London, reading the papers and chatting with James and Nikki. It's was great not to have to worry about the kids for once. I got home late on Saturday night and spent Sunday hungover on the sofa watching cricket. I feel guilty as I should have spent the time writing, but I got a lot of inspiration from the weekend, met some characters and experienced new stuff which helped me reconnect with that kind of scene. There was a real energy in the bars and clubs I went in, although the rave scene seemed slighty more tame than I remembered. It was a friendly vibe though, with more coke on the scene rather than ecstasy. James played a full-on 3-hour set, which was awesome, he had the dancefloor with him all the way, never let up. Respect.

As a result I've come back to the novel with renewed energy and will use some of the material I gleaned from the weekend.

A work in progress...18

On Wednesday met up with my friend James and his girlfriend Niki for a beer in Clerkenwell after work. The family are in Germany still and I'm missing them. I couldn't get a cheap flight out of London so I'm staying at home and writing. While they're away, I can't seem to concentrate. I've got a couple of days off and I spent the day in the garden listening to the cricket and working, but actually wrote very little. I have managed to work out a structure and timeline for the novel which has made it easier. I'm also trying to focus on the two main characters and their intense, physical and ultimately short relationship. James is a DJ and editor of a music mag. He was best man at my wedding, and is a talented and beautiful guy, with an equally talented and beautiful girlfriend. He's invited me to his gig at Turnmills on Friday night. I would love to see him play and also get a feel for the club scene, as my raving days are just a memory. I've also featured Turnmills in a scene in the book, so it would be good to go for research purposes. I intend to write all day Friday, get ready and go into London in the evening and stay over at James and Nikki's place in Bow. Its should be wild and stimulating. It's probably my one and only chance to see James play live. I'm really looking forward to it. I spoke to my wife, told her where I was going. She's totally cool: "Don't be over doing it and showing off," was her advice.

A work in progress...17

My wife and family have gone to Germany today for a holiday. They are staying at at a friend's parents' house in the hills near Cologne. It's a beautiful house in an idyllic setting and I wish I was going with them. But I've just had three weeks off and have to be back at work; bad timing. I have the weekend to slob out, ride my bike, write and do some yoga. I also want to catch up on some Hong Kong films, I have a stack of them to watch, mainly Wong kar Wai films. The book is going well, I'm working on the structure and it's starting to take shape. I should be pleased to have more time to work on it, but the truth is I'm missing my family. They are away for nine days. It looks like this year we are not going to have a holiday. The book is taking over my life, sapping all my energy and time.I may try and get a flight to Germany next weekend. I'll see how the writing goes.

A work in progress...16

Well the agent finally got back to me after almost two months. As soon as I saw the s.a.e. I knew that we would not be corresponding any further. His letter was quite polite, 'on balance' he didn't think he was the right agent for me...etc. He sent me a web link with a list of other agents and wished me well. I've sent my MS to another author friend for another opinion, and maybe she will be able to help with an agent. But maybe I'm jumping the gun, as the book is still not finished yet. Once it's complete I'm going to really concentrate on the publishing side, if I'm happy with the end result.

I've just got back to work after three weeks off, mainly spent at home writing. I stayed at my friends, Al & Elizabeth's for five days and was able to immerse myself in the work without any distractions from the family. Lewisham maybe off the literay map but the flat was ideal. As I mentioned previously I'm usuing its layout as the basis for the main charachter's flat so I got a real feel of the place. The flat is in a quiet side street and they have lots of Mark Rothko prints and photography on the walls. There's also lots of books and music and it was very close to Blackheath and Greenwhich. I practised yoga everyday, read and wrote, and cycled to Blackheath. London is such an inspiring city. I also had time to sit and think about the novel's shape and direction, so when I wasn't writing it was always at the forefront of my mind. The most extravagant think I did was rent 2001 Space Odyssey on DVD. There were some themes in the film that are similar to what I'm attempting to write, mainly composition, colour and symbols. And it was a decadent luxury to sit and watch it one afternoon when it was so hot outside, and absorb Kubrick's masterpiece and understand it for the first time, whithout falling asleep before the end. When I was leaving to go to London, my wife commented that my mood was as if I was going into hospital for an operation. I guess I was apprehensive about leaving the family, it felt really selfish and I was convinced that I was not going to be able to write anything while I was away. In the end I probably wrote about 15,000 words while I was there, and the novel in total is now at about 65,000 words; but doesn't seem nowhere near finished. It's still very disjointed, but at least I know in my head where it's going.

A work in progress...15

It's been over a month now since I sent the first three chapters of my manuscript to the agent. Still no reply. Maybe this is a good sign, if it's been looked at and was considered garbage then maybe I would have had it returned by now? Maybe it's been moved to another pile marked 'Maybe'? Or more than likely it's still sitting at the bottom of the slushpile. It's fate intrigues me; I try not to think about it as I simply enjoy writing and I don't want to be distracted. On the otherhand, having an agent means my book will stand a good chance of finding a publisher, and isn't this what I want? Not so much fame, more kudos and spondulics.

I'm spending five days at my friends, Al & Elizabeth's this week. I was supposed to be looking after their cat, but sadly it looks as though he's gone to the great cat litter in the sky. Nevertheless, it's a great opportunity to write and I hope to get a first draft of the whole book completed. Their flat in Lewisham, London, is featured in my book so hopefully I will be inspired. I hope its going to be productive as it will be a bit weird being away from the family.

London

I have just got back from London; I feel lucky to be alive I was on a bus at 10am and had to be evacuated - I was very close to the London bus that was blown up. My office is in the vicinity of all of the blasts and it was like walking through a war zone trying to get into work. I have been off work this week on holiday, but had to go in today for a meeting. I was actually feeling very excited about going into the capital ( I live 60 miles away) after we won the Olympic bid. London is such an inspiring city, and a strong, tough city. I'm sure it will recover.

Of course the meeting was cancelled and I didn't have much work to do. I left my office in Farringdon at 3.30pm after I heard the main Waterloo station had reopened, where I catch my train. On the street there were thousands of people all walking, trying to get home. All the buses, tube trains etc had stopped running and it was impossible to get a taxi so we had no choice but to walk. The walk was about 3 miles and it was quite sunny and pleasant. It was surreal to see so many people crossing Blackfriars Bridge, like something from a horror movie, except people were perfectly calm and seem to be taking the disaster in their stride.

I got to the station and found that trains out of London were running normally. I had a 5 minute wait before my train departed. It was a relief to get home; it all felt very real and quite scary but it has not put me off from working in the capital. I had been expecting something like this, as did everyone who commutes into London. Thank God it wasn't me this time.

A work in progress....14

It's three weeks since I sent my manuscript to the agent. Still no reply, but I'm expecting it to be returned in the sae with a no thanks message. He advises to allow a month, so there is still hope, but with each passing day it diminishes. I work as a production editor on a political magazine and we have just gone to press with the July issue. We are not publishing an edition in August, which means I can take the whole of July off to write. This is my opportunity to finish the book. I am concentrating all my time and energy on it, as as I may not get another chance like this.
Today I have a huge hangover from celebrating finishing the magazine and my birthday. I stayed in London at my friend Al's place. We stayed up until about 2am playing Who records. It reminded us of being teenagers again. Music is so important to us, it is the one thing that made a difference in our lives and it's always great to revist The Who now and again as they were the ones that started it all for us. I feel inspired and confident. I want to do a lot of cycling in the hills, yoga and swimming while I'm off - and not drink too much. I need a clear head and lots of energy to do what I've go to do.

A work in progress...13

Today is my birthday and I'm 42 years old. I got a card from daughter saying happy birthday "stupid punk" and one of a dinosaur on the front from my son. Sums it up really.
I have been writing from a very early age, I can remember writing cowboy stories when I was very young. I once wrote about a rape in one of my stories and I remember my dad going mental when he read it. Aged 8 or 9 I didn't understand the the exact meaning, but he never bothered to explain it to me - he ripped up the story and gave me a good hiding. I can't remember it putting me off, but I never persued writing as a career. I also learned to read at an early age. Treasure Island was the first book I ever read - and I read that with my dad, so there was some positive aspects of our relationship. After bumming about in bands I got into journalism, which seemed a happy compromise, but it took all my energy as I worked really hard and reached almost the top - or as far as I wanted to go. I remember when I met my wife 20 years ago I said I wanted to be a writer, and I feel that everything I have done is to get me to this stage. That's why I find writing so easy - of course it's hard work and intense, but I enjoy it and it doesn't seem like work. My journalism training has helped because I am a disciplined writer but I love the fact that I have creative freedom. I have written lots of poetry in the past, mainly because that's all I had time for and I enjoy the internal tension of the two disciplines struggling to get themselves heard in my writing.

A work in progress...12

Very busy at work, so not much time to blog or write. The constant writing and revising of one section is driving me insane - I'm not sure I'm going to even use it in the book and I'm beginning to wonder how I got down this avenue. The Royal Horticultural Society sent me a link on how to construct a violin. I sent them a polite request for help with research and the material they have sent is fascinanting - to do with the wood used for the insturment. Why on earth I'm writing about the intricacies of building a violin I don't know; I seem to be heading off on various tangents, letting my imagination run wild and I'm continually surprised the way the story is unfolding. The journalist in me wants to rein these thoughts in, while the poet is saying 'keep going, keep going'.

A work in progress...11

I didn't do much writing on the train today. The weekend was tiring - good friends of ours, Al & Elisabeth came to stay so we were busy entertaining. Al and I stayed up watching Glastonbury live on TV until 3am on Sunday morning and I was still feeling the after effects this morning. They bought me a DVD of the making of Smile by Brian Wilson as a birthday present. I mentioned that the kind of breakdown he expeperienced while making the album is similar to what the main character in my book goes through - so the DVD should be good for research and inspiration. I'm beginning to think the book is maybe becoming too complicated - it feels as though I am writing two books at the same time, and not sure I'll be able to tie the two together in a coherent form. All the scenes seem somehow disparate, maybe it will come together once all the narrative is complete. On a deadline at work this week, so I must try and focus all my energy there. I'm finding it very hard to concentrate on anything else but the book, I'm really enjoying writing it, but the process is mentally draining.

A work in progress...10

Two weeks since I left my MS with the agent, still no word. I've got lots of revisions and notes to write up, but have a busy weekend so I doubt whether I'll spend much time on the book. Ideas just seem to flow and my writing, when I get chance, is contantly improving. I'm meeting my wife and we're off to the Frida Khalo exhibition at the Tate Modern this afternoon. The Tate Modern may feature in the ending of my novel. not sure yet. I find the the old Turbine Hall so inspiring - so hopefully I'll come away full of ideas. We may also go and check out the new Tracey Emin exhibition in London. As my novel is about an artist, I'm putting the afternoon down to research.

A work in progres...9

Hot. Too hot to write too hot to work. I don't seem to have achieved much this week. I have been making lots of notes and revising along with researching on the internet, but do not feel as though the novel's progressed. I have another week of being busy at work, afer which I should be able to devote more time to the novel. Still not heard anything from the agent, which is also a niggle, I'm trying not to think about it, but I can't help it. Everyday I pass his office on the bus on my way to work and imagine my manuscript slowly making its way up the slush pile. It's probably still at the bottom - he's probably on holiday at his villa in France, leaving me sweating for the rest of the summer.

A work in progress...8

I met up with Helen last night, whom I met briefly in Hong Kong a couple of years ago. She's a writer and has had a couple of books published. I showed her the first three chapters of my book before I sent it to the agent and she genuinely liked it and was very encouraging. She commented that my work seemed well researched and asked if I was an artist - I'm not but my main character is so it was a positive sign. She basically told me to hang on in there and not be too disappointed if I'm turned down by the first agent; she thought my book had a good chance of being accepted. Work is very busy and there seems lots of commitments on an evening so I'm not writing as much. I'm not too worried as I have most of July off and I intend to finish the book by end of August. For now I want to concentrate on the writing, my goal is to write about 80,000 words. I must stay postitive and keep focussed, I feel so close to achieving my ambition and I'm really enjoying writing.

A work in progress...7

Some days my writing seemes so pedestrian, I write like a journalist instead of a poet. Progress is slow. The trains are hot and insufferable, and the ones out of Waterloo on an evening are full of noisy tourists heading to Salisbury and the west country. I seem to be stuck on one section of the book, which is throwing up quite a few surprises, so I must stick with it.

A work in progress...6

I managed to do a bit of revision over the weekend and that was it. There's not much time to write when you have two small children who demand your attention after not seeing you all week. Funny, the times when I have spent on my own away from the family I don't produce anything. I realised long ago that they are my inspiration and I try and devote as much time as possible to them. Working at home is a problem though, as I don't have a dedicated workspace. My wife uses the only available spare room as a studio and I have to write either in the lounge, on the kitchen table or at a desk on the landing outside the kids' bedrooms. The kids regard me as just another plaything and I'm often decked out in a pink wig or assailed with plastic insects as I try and write. My chair has also been used as a tunnel for a train track, and quite often I have to endure the Grease soundtrack blasing out of my daughter's room. Not surprisngly I try and stay clear of the landing when the children are in residence. This weekend was also very hot, and it was father's day yesterday. I got to spend some time with my son and we went off on our own. I showed him how to ride his bike without the use of stabilisers and felt almost as proud as he did when he showed off his new skill to the rest of the family.

A work in progress...5

It's been a week now since I sent the agent the first three chapters of my manuscript. On the day I dropped it in, there was a timely article published in the Guardian, subject: 'How to make a book'. It claimed 100,000 books are published in the UK each year. The article covered the whole process of publishing from the author having the initial idea in a pub, to its writing and eventual publication. Here's an excerpt:

"The hunger to be published gnaws powerfully enough at a sufficient number of people that between 30 and 40 unsolicited proposals arrive every single day at the London offices of the American literary agency Janklow & Nesbit. The "slush pile" is not an efficient route to literary fame: Claire Paterson, one of Janklow's two primary UK agents, found only one of her current 40-odd clients that way. Gallingly perhaps for all those would-be published authors."

I know it takes time, it's not like a job application where you expect to hear a reply pretty much straight away from a prospective employer and maybe my MS will get read - who knows?

A work in progress...4

Since my laptop crashed I have so far refrained from taking it on the train with me. Instead I revise pages that I've printed out at home on a night and write new bits to scenes in my notebook, a Moleskine, bought from the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. The notebook is more like a valuable friend, and goes absolutely everywhere with me. My favourite writing tool is a Zebra Drafix Auto Pencil, it's such a wonderful instrument, I believe draughtsmen use it and it's great for constructing a novel; plus you don't need a sharpener, which is good when you're working on a train. I can write just as well on the laptop, but I enjoy watching the organic flow of words onto the paper through the HB lead. It slows me down and makes me think about what I'm actually writing. I've been working all week on a couple of pages, editing and revising, it seems painstakingly slow but the result are impressive. I have polished 10,000 words and have about 60-70,000 to go. Daunting.

A work in progress...3

As I mentioned in my last post, by April 19 I had written more than 55,000 words and seemed unstoppable. Then disaster struck. My laptop had a seizure, both cooling fans on the motherboard packed in and the battery burned out. For four months solid I had been usuing it on the train for up to three hours a day, then working long into the night and constantly at weekends - even just to play music - and I guess it simply said 'enough'. It cost me £400 to repair. Luckily I had saved my work on a disc.
The laptop was out of action for a month. During the enforced hiatus I did some editing and revising. When I printed out my work it looked as though it was written by a crack addict: bereft of paragraphs or indents it was a huge slab of text, 120 pages of A4, with scenes written randomly and no begining or end. I had an old desktop PC at home with a Chinese keyboard, which I began using, working long into the night and reading the pages on the train the next morning. I was making good progress and had managed to write the opening chapter, when disaster struck again. The desktop PC refused to boot up - and worse still the last thing I did was save my updates on a floppy, which had been corrupted by the crash. I lost about 5,000 words - by chance I had manage to print a hard copy of the section. If there's nothing more I hate in life it's having to do things twice. I was down to writing with a pad and pencil on the train, and thought if they are taken away from me I'll end up scrawling on the carriage walls like the Marquis de Sade in the film Quills. I got my laptop back on May 16 and restored the missing section and knocked into shape the opening three chapters and a synopsis, which I sent to the agent on Friday, June 10.

A work in progress...2

While I wait for the agent to get back to me I continute to write. I have written about 60,000 words so far and not sure how many more words it will take to finish - I could easily write another 60,000, but I want to keep the book relatively short with no flab. I have been on a roll writing since I started my book on January 19 2005, which by coincidence - or not - was my daughter's birthday. By April 19 I had written 55,000 words. Not bad to say I work full time as a production editor for a newspaper in London and have two small children, who take up most of my 'free' time. At the moment I'm editing and revising, but have the novel pretty much mapped out in my head.
I write mainly on the train into London. The journey takes about 90 minutes, which is insane I know, but I get to spend two hours a day writing on my laptop, while my fellow commuters snooze, read or play various card games on their laptops. It feels good to be using my time so productively and I have overcome the intitial paranoia of writing surrounded by a load of strangers. Although I felt a bit uncomfortable writing the scene when two of the characters indulged in a spot of anal sex.

A work in progress...

I sent the first three chapters of my novel to a literary agent in London on Friday. I got his name via a publishing company's website, he sounded an all right kinda guy. I sent him an introductory email, which so far he has not responded to - and I also sent him a copy of the manuscript, which I delivered to his office by hand. Right now it's probably sat at the bottom of a "slush pile" and I don't feel too optimistic about its chances - despite encouragement from a published author, a friend of a friend, who said my story was an intriguing idea and well written. Fingers crossed I hit pay dirt first time.