I’ve just completed the first draft of the first short chapter of my new novel Slaymaker. It’s only a couple of thousand words, which probably doesn’t sound much, but it’s the result of several frustrating unfocussed inspirationless days of faffing around.
And here’s the best thing. It’s finally coming alive. There’s energy in it. There’s the beginnings of a new way of telling the story, a new kind of narrative voice, that’s unique to and necessary to this particular book. And then there’s Slaymaker himself, appearing for the first time at the end of the chapter, rather as a singer walks out onto the stage at the very end of the warm-up number played by his backing group.
Of course this energy will go again, of course they’ll be many more days when it feels like nothing will come alive at all. But now I’ve found it once, I know I’ll find it again
