The Black Hours diary entry No. 8: Aftermath, Flotsam and Jetsam

This week, Sarah’s left me home alone. The house is quiet, and in the evenings I forget the sound of my own voice. So like any other bloke left “home alone” I’ve been indulging in those frowned-upon things such as watching b-movie pastiches (Planet Terror) watching a little Euro 2008 (never a full match, and usually while I’m reading – which is currently Simon Clark’s Night of the Triffids) and of course writing (which isn’t frowned upon exactly, but takes up two hours of an evening that I should be spending with Sarah).

With Sarah away, it means that this week my writing feels guilty-free. I have no other responsibilities, no self-imposed time limits – I can write for as long or as short as I wish. And with it being so quiet, there are no distractions.

In the aftermath of what I might call “The Hectic Train Chapter” The Black Hours has fallen back to a steady pace – for a short time. I’m now 81,000 words into the first draft, about 40,000 words away from the final chapter – so, much nearer to the end than I am the beginning. Yet despite all this, I still get distracted - this time by a shelved project: The Isles of Sheffield.

Regular readers of this blog will remember I mooted this project this time last year, but was shelved in favour of a more fully-formed project: The Black Hours (The Isles of Sheffield was turning into something of an epic – The Black Hours is but 120,000 words long).
Now the worm has turned, or rather I’ve decided to approach The Isles of Sheffield with a long term view. Instead of throwing myself into the project, I’ll be chipping away at it, writing stand-alone or connected short stories over the next five to six years, which I’ll send out for publication in various magazines and the internet.

The first of these stories is “Flotsam, Jetsam” - a bitter-sweet tale of a child who has grown up in the flooded city, eking out a living as a gondola boy and scavenger, ferrying various colourful characters across a city that’s half submerged.
I’ll have plenty of time to write it too. Already I’m 7,000 words towards my 10,000 quota for this week on The Black Hours. Tonight and tomorrow should finish that off which leaves Thursday evening and Friday to write Flotsam, Jetsam.

Disclaimer:
The first time I thought about writing The Isles of Sheffield, something bad then happened to Sheffield i.e. it flooded. So I accept no responsibility for it happening again now that my interest has returned...