Nose Is Not Toes, I decided that I wanted to write my own story and see it in print. I've had a good forty five years to do this and could have been as prolific as Barbara Cartland if I'd got my finger out . So why, oh why has it just not happened?
Suffice to say procrastination has played its part but it's not the entire complex picture. But I'll spare you most of the navel gazing and the associated blue fluff and get down to the nub of the problem. I have ideas for stories but just can't seem to pad them out enough in my own head to make them meaty enough to be a goer. However I've come up with two strategies that seem to have helped me kickstart, what I acknowledge is still going to be an onerous task - that first novel.
First and foremost, I've started to share my idea for a story with my friends and asked them for suggestions about how the plot should be bulked out. This has been incredibly fruitful - even though I'm having to discard some of Mr Metrosexual's more lurid ideas. He thinks that I should include at least three swinger's parties in order to boost sales. Aside from not being keen on doing the research, I don't want to horrify Mama and Nana Lovelygrey - or follow in the footsteps of that 'animal', Tony Blair, and be given the dubious accolade of a Bad Sex Writing award .
The other thing I've done is scoured the Internet for a novel template. After considering a few I've settled on this one on the easywaytowrite.com website. So, with a cobbled together plot from my 'co-authors' and an outline plot in ten easy chapters, I'm off the starting block. As with the diet, I'll be posting updates on my snail-like progress.