My fingers are itchy again today. Such a lovely feeling...My focus is divided however. My 'almost-completed' novel - the one which is on Draft Forty-Nine (I exaggerate) - is still nagging at the corners of my mind. I haven't yet ironed out all the police procedure issues in it, and now I'm thinking of parts that need rewriting to increase the pace.
(I am reading a book at the moment which is self-published, and so nearly good...noticing how close it is is a bit of a wake-up call for me. It's reminded me that nearly good isn't enough. The smallest blips are noticeable.)
So, here I am, scribbling notes and suggestions to myself and posting them into the box that contains my beloved manuscript, and wondering whether to return to it...What I'm meant to be doing is the early plotting for my next novel. (How pretentious that sounds! I wonder at what point in a writing career you can begin to get away with saying it without squirming?) As this is a fairly effortless and exciting part of writing - the possibilities are endless! And the plot is, of course, perfect, because it's not been diluted yet by contact with me and my writing - I was looking forward to it.
Time to decide which piece of work to point those itchy fingers at...