When I drop dead in mysterious circumstances sometime between now and September, let it be known it was the Novel that finished me off.
Our 'holiday' homework was to plot a novel and write the first thirty pages. Yep, you read that correctly - thirty pages. Ok, the damn typeface refuses to come out of italics mode; I've now got to spend the next hour emphasising every bloody word!
Now, as you know, if you've read previous posts, I'm a bit of a Chick-lit girl . Some of my contemporaries are seriously credible writers, so I decided, in my half-arsed wisdom, to attempt something more ...um...serious. I planned and plotted and came up with a workable novel idea. Trouble was, it was as dreary as Auntie Mildred in her crocheted beret discussing her corns. With less than a week to Deadline-Day, I scrapped the original and forged ahead with a new idea full of bed-hopping and double entendre (that bit should be read in italics).
On the positive side, I'm learning bundles about the writing and editing process (posh writerly term for scrapping the idea or deleting the text...). The disadvantage, however, is that I've only written eight pages, and DD is - *she checks the calender* - tomorrow - gulp!
And this is just week one...
I know, with the certainty of a Roman soothsayer, that this module is going to kill me.
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2 comments:
Did you have to present the eight pages this week or not?
I saw Derrek before your lesson the other day, and he already looked a bit stressed.
It was thirty, Em, but I only managed twelve... I think he's throwing us in at the deep-end so that we amke the most obvious mistakes and learn from them.
He was chatty and smiling a lot during the lesson - maybe we just slipped him over the edge!
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