Putting Things Finally To Bed

A few weeks ago over at Veg Plotting, I wrote about the creative writing course I was attending at the time and whether writing was the right avenue for me. I had lots of lovely comments and advice as a result. I've continued to mull things over during the Christmas period and I've decided it's something I do want to pursue, but not down the particular route the course was going. I believe feature writing is something I'd like to do and I also have an idea for a book. It's all very exciting.

However, I do feel I need to put my course to bed by typing up the only piece which I feel is up to my usual blogging standard. It's ironic that I was completely uninspired by the course itself and was in danger of not completing my homework one week. We'd been doing a series on 'The night was...' and this was the result.

'Every night was quiet.' I'm stuck. A week's gone by and I still have no story to share. I've stared at the blank page, the wall and mid air willing the next words to come. I've parked them in the back of my mind for a while; I've tried different words; I've gone off and done other things. But there's rien, nada, nothing.

My first idea was to tell last week's tale from the man's point of view. There's so many questions from then with no answer. What's his name? Al, Bill, Chris... none fits the father of Jake. I can't name his wife either, though I can see her as plain as day. Why is she on her own? What-if? I have the start, but I can't see the end. Once more I set my tale to one side whilst we visit my husband's family up north. My niece loves writing, so wants to hear about the course. I tell her my problem and we start with names, going through all the boys in her class. Still no fit, still no what-if, still no end.

It's the 'facing the blank page' which called me to sign up for this course in the first place. I've had a year of tales tumbling out of my head each day. Months of fun and the pleasures of writing, but with a voice of doubt in my head which says 'Ah yes, but what happens when there's no tale there, what do you do then?' Well, each week here I've come very close to that and the one's the nearest yet. But at 3 o'clock this morning - the best time for ideas I find - the light bulb's finally gone on in my head. So whilst the night is quiet, I'm facing the blank page and I'm ready to begin.