Seems like an easy enough idea. Find somewhere peaceful and just write, but what if those creative juices simply aren’t flowing?
It felt as though my holiday would be the ideal option to catch up on my writing. I haven’t been able to grab as much time as I needed recently and creativity has waned. I’ve given up on my debut novel, not completely, but I just wanted to try something else. I needed a break and so did the editing. The characters were tiring of having their favourite scenes cut.
For a long time, I’ve had an idea of a script, location British seaside town. I know how it starts and roughly where it goes with no idea of the end or how I get there. Having been an actor for some years, I wasn’t expecting this to be as challenging as it is. He says, she says, enter stage left, exit stage right. Simple, right? Oh no it isn’t (and no I’m not writing a panto even if the act of writing feels like I am).
My recent holiday gave me the ideal opportunity to work on the script without distraction, as well as getting first hand research done. A week later, one character has made a phone call and is still sat on the balcony, which is precisely what I spent the week doing myself.
I thought this would be a relaxing and productive place to really bash out thousands of words and get an initial draft on the page. No such luck. So much for relax and write. I think I focused too much on the relax side.
Oh well, at least my novel characters are happy that I haven’t deserted them completely and I’ve a reason to take another holiday too.