Simon Whaley’s Business of Writing: December 2024—A Writing Inversion
Welcome to my December 2024 newsletter.
I hope you’ve had a festive holiday season, and successfully avoided all the nasty germs that seem to be doing the rounds this year.
The moisture molecules permeated everything. The house was cold. Condensation had collected in the window corners. Stepping outside, I could barely see a couple of yards ahead.
Fog subdues. It muffles. It suppresses.
And yet, it is easy to move through it. As I head out on my daily walk, I can still make my way through the world. Up the path, left through the cutting, across the stile, diagonally right through the enclosure (no sheep today), across another stile, and onto the stone track. I could do it blindfolded. You could say, I am.
I pull my coat zip up to the top, tightening the collar around my neck. That is better. A few foggy droplets had snuck down the back of my neck, sending a shudder down to my waist. See? Fog gets everywhere.
What I love about fog is that if you stop and look at it—I mean, really look at it—you can see each and every droplet, seemingly suspended in the air.
Individually, they are nothing, but collectively—Wow! For the past few days, there have been news reports of airport chaos, of flights being delayed, and others cancelled, all thanks to these insignificant minuscule droplets. Mankind might be clever enough to create vast metal machines that can defy gravity, but how clever are we if these complicated machines can be thwarted by a few gazillion water droplets?
As I ponder my thoughts, I emerge from my woodland path onto a narrow lane. It’s barely a hundred yards along here, and then I turn right again.
To my left, a white orb hovers in the bleary fog. It’s a good sign. The molecules in front of me are agitated. The sun’s heat gives them the courage to move away from their fellow gang members.
Turning right, I begin the final ascent. Underfoot, the track becomes a grassy path. Through one kissing gate, and then, shortly after, a second. The path becomes steeper. The mist swirls. It’s dancing, sweeping one way, then the other, tantalising me with the briefest of glimpses. Was that blue sky?
I plow on, climbing steeper and steeper, huffing and puffing. I see my breath condense in the air before me. Oh, heck! I’m adding to the fog. Then. Suddenly. It happens.
I burst through into the clearest air. A cerulean sky stretches far into the horizon above a sea of brilliant white mist. The clarity is overwhelming. Literally breathtaking. I fear exhaling, for I don’t wish to add further fog to this view.
I love inversions. It’s when cold air gets trapped in the valleys by warmer air above. For the past three days, South Shropshire has been smothered by a fog duvet (a good 15 tog, if not heavier) that simply hasn’t shifted. The world below is in a deadly slumber. So lifeless, that the duvet is barely wrinkled. Only a few like me who’ve climbed above it have been granted this magical vista.
A few days ago, I had a breakthrough with my third novel. You may recall in previous newsletters that I’m trying to edit it down from 142,700 words to a target of about 90,000 words. So, in between my editing jobs, and the articles, I’ve been working my way through each scene, one by one, editing, deleting, and rewriting. I’m not finished yet, but the manuscript currently stands at 108,700 words. The breakthrough came on Christmas Eve when a more succinct, and stronger ending arrived in my mind. The clarity of the solution was just like standing on top of Ragleth Hill and gazing across the inversion.
I still have work to do, but I know I will get there. I will finish and self-publish the third novel in 2025. (And I have a few other ideas up my sleeve regarding my novels, too.)
The last few days, trudging through the fog to break through the inversion, have reminded me about this business of writing. Despite knowing where we are heading with a project, the way forward isn’t always clear. But by doing what we always do, walking the walk so to speak, sitting down regularly to add more words to our manuscript, then doing it again to edit, we will break through any fogginess.
This novel has been particularly tricky for me. The inversion has been stubborn. This time last year, I didn’t even have a full first draft. (Checking my records, I was around the 72,000-word mark).
But the business of writing is about showing up regularly and walking the walk. Sometimes those moisture molecules can be classified as Writer’s Block, seemingly stopping us from moving forward with any idea. At other times, each moisture molecule could be an idea in itself, swirling in front of us, trying to tempt us down a different path. Having too many ideas can be just as debilitating as not having any.
But remember the writing inversion. Know your route. Know where you’re heading. The fog may disorientate you at times, but that’s okay. It never lasts forever, and you will break through.
Writing Magazine Webinar’s
Starting on 8th January 2025, and running for six weeks, I’m doing a series of webinars on an introduction to self-publishing. The first one is free, and I’ll be exploring the differences between traditional publishing and self-publishing. For further details, check out:
https://www.writers-online.co.uk/webinars/self-publishing-webinar-bundle-webinars-1-to-6/
South Warwickshire Literary Festival Creative Non-Fiction Competition
In mid-January, the South Warwickshire Literary Festival is launching its creative non-fiction competition. I happen to know this because I’m this year’s judge! So if you fancy having a go at writing some creative non-fiction, with a chance of winning some prize money, then keep an eye on their competition page for when the competition is launched: https://www.southwarwickshireliteraryfestival.com/competition
I don’t doubt your inbox is like mine and awash with offers to kick-start your 2025 and make it your best year yet. (And I hope 2025 is your best year yet.) So, I wish you all a Happy New Year, and may 2025 be a positively productive one. (And if you want a book to inspire you to be positively productive in 2025, then I might just have the perfect title for you! Click here to buy it in your preferred format.
Until next month, keeeeeeeeeep writing!
Happy New Year!
Best wishes,
Simon
Happy New Year, Simon. Let’s hope it’s the most successful yet! 🥳