So, the new novel idea is taking shape. I have people stamping around in my head clamouring to have their stories told. I have their houses and dreams etched behind my eyes and what they want to say to one another seems to have taken up residency in my mouth. All this and the certain slants of light, the tiny details, which will, I hope, bring the whole thing to life. It is hard to think about anything else at present. These people are complicated and their story will be a tragic one, this I already know, and the challenge is to tell their story right, to balance their needs with the readers’ so whether I’m making the dinner, doing the ironing, falling asleep, waking up, driving or sitting in front of my laptop screen, I am carrying around with me a kaleidoscope of colour and sounds and my heart is beating just that little bit faster than normal. New-novelitis is a truly wonderful condition! And here’s a small clue as to what the book’s about:
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