Friday, 15 May 2015


It’s time to finish the novel I’m writing: it’s almost done.

Working through, section by section, each afternoon>evening>night I plan the next day’s work. Each morning, early, I write what I planned in the hours before.

Last night I planned what I would write today. This morning, as I did the first-thing chores, I got it ready.

Except today, I have no power. I can’t put it there, outside me and onto the page.

I have a modest output target: a thousand words. What I have planned will be around that.

The space between the worlds I keep at my visceral centre has flatlined, leaving only something peevish and ineffectual.

I can’t even read.

I have lit the fire. The flames are lifegiving. The house is quiet. The silence is lifegiving, too.

I am hoping later on I will find that immense stand-in-the-whirlwind thingummy that brings the words.

I read, sometimes, professional writers saying that waiting for the muse is nonsense; that if you want to do this for a job, there’s only one way – begin. Actually, I’ve said it myself. But today I can’t even begin; only wait. Into the peace, if I make it broad enough, wise enough, I do believe words will come forth like woodland animals as the night falls. I must make a dusk of myself, and then the words will come out.

Ah, wait! There is a feeling in me, that today – like a subterranean stream, a current of intense yearning, I need the company of someone who understands me. You know, with writing fiction, that can be a good place to begin. I will start there. A thousand words for the hunger inside me that all of humanity shares too.


rebecca said...

Though not a writer of fiction, I am in the "current". (I dare say, you've begun the day's work. You are just unaware that you have.)

Me? I'm going to sit with the thought of making a dusk of myself. That, I believe, is essential. And what a great way of expressing the principle.

Pen Wilcock said...

"I dare say, you've begun the day's work. You are just unaware that you have."

Ooh, that is *such* a good observation! Thank you! xx

Jenna said...

Pen, if I didn't love you so much, I'd fretfully shout "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" :) Today I dragged out a mangled bit of poster board on which, in one very "writerly" moment long enough back that I have no idea when it was, I plotted out a fiction--and then was completely exhausted by the crinkled Post-it notes, the scholarly W plot line to be followed, even a poignant epigraph for this fictional fiction's front matter. I think I shall make us some tea, set out some biscuits, and we can sip and discuss the vagaries of words.

Ganeida said...

I will sit with you in the silence. The words will come, like water seeping through sand.

Deborah said...

Hawk and the Dove Novel??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????



Pen Wilcock said...


Hello friends!

Jenna - I want a cup of tea now I've read that!

Ganeida - thank you so much: yes, the words came, and I was pleased with what I wrote.

Deborah - Yep; that's the one!


Deborah said...

squeee :-D

Pen Wilcock said...


Almost done.


Deborah said...

Happy sigh :-D

Break the bad news to long tl it's published??

Pen Wilcock said...


No change on that. It's for Spring of next year - late February, I think.
Each book has a process to go through, which cannot be rushed without messing things up.


Bethany said...

I'm revisiting this, which has been singing along in the background of my mind for days, to tell you just that. Thank you.

Pen Wilcock said...


Thank you. Waving! xx