In my writing process, I will often take nights, days, and weeks away from a narrative of a novel so it can formulate for me. Holding down a very physical day job means that I’m reluctant to come home and write at night. I wrote Sanctum (2nd edition) in a blur of nights, over months of toiling away as it flowed into my mind like a cascade of images and plotlines, geographical locations, and character arcs. I haven’t written a book like that since. It was a unique experience writing Sanctum. That novel was fantastical, the energy that flowed through me to write that book was unbound and limitless. Since then, I’ve learned to fall back into the void of infinite possibility when writing and created the space to watch the story unfold for me in the natural progression it needs.
Being self-published, owning my publishing company, allows me to write at my leisure. I don’t have the tedium of deadlines, so my approach is to write when inspiration flows into me. Fortunately, during the global smackdown I was gifted with a tsunami of downloads about what books I needed to use for research, had the time to write, and watched the narrative of the book take shape. Now, back at my day job, I’ve gone into a meditative stillness with the writing process of Rigmarole. I know the ending, and my character arcs are forming, all the information I need to translate into a fictitious plot (most of the information presented in the book, especially technological is non-fiction, as with most of my books, truth, and imagination are entwined in a literary dance). So, I’ve chosen to spend time and energy in other life experiences, remaining open to inspiration, spirits guidance, and I’ll watch the characters of the novel go about their existences, and life trajectories in my mind and then scribe away what I see, feel and experience.
Being calm and patient in the void of stillness, where all possibilities originate is fertile and hallow territory. When the urge to commit my time to the literary process ignites in me again I know that the quality of the work will be exemplary, and the content will knit together as my fingers hover over my keyboard in anticipation. It’s the most ecstatic feeling for me, being in the zone where I am precariously tuned into the inspirations flooding my awareness and being present as the events transpire before me (I’m transported into the book as I’m writing my perception of what I’m seeing, feeling) is incomparable. I feel blessed. So, I’m going to listen to some music, do some reading, go for a shop, and maybe watch an episode of a series from HBO, and wait it out patiently till I’m called to continue to elucidate Dick Swabb’s epic novel, Rigmarole.
