My new novel The Meal Ticket features two important characters: a rower accused of a crime he didn’t commit and the lake where he strengthens himself for the coming court battle for his freedom. Hero and villains meet for a final confrontation on the water and the lake is as moody and chancy as any of them. I like the idea of contrasting the beautiful, dangerous lake and the man who seeks comfort battling the waves. Hidden enemies are wrecking his life. To defeat them he needs to compete, to go deep inside and pull out strengths he didn’t know he had.
The kitchen is tidy. Dishwasher and new cupboards are in, 1930s sink is out. Now, what about the novel? Amazed and dismayed to see it is over a year since I touched it. Thirteen months, 25 days and 15 hours to be precise. Fellow procrastinators look no further. This has to be the worst case. Almost done, I thought, 13 months, 25 days and 15 hours ago. But family situations interrupted…
That’s my excuse. What’s your excuse for:
– tanking the novel,
– ‘forgetting’ to go to the gym,
– or to change your diet, your hair, your home
– or to mend fences with family and friends
– or look for a better job?
13 months, 25 days, 15 hours and thirty minutes. I’m done with excuses. What about you?
Toaster oven with one leg? Keep for now. Mom’s behemoth microwave? Same. Suspiciously floury bag of durum semolina? Are those teeth marks? Out!
Emptying the kitchen for the renovators is like editing the novel.
Some new clean lines for the counter top – clear direction for the plot. No spacious islands – no extra words.