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It’s quite strange how the pull of something can keep you interested even when life changes.

I’ve been away from writing for a few months (nope, I haven’t been inside!), but I always felt the persistent pull of the thread that has eventually brought me back here to my keyboard. How wonderful is that?

The last time I was here I was 15k words into the new story, Sword of Damocles. And you’d think I’d be able to walk right back in the door and sit and down and continue where I left off; I envisioned each of my characters sitting in this room (I call it The Writing Pad by the way) playing poker, sipping Guinness, just patiently waiting for me. But that hasn’t been the case at all. The only one here is Eddie. In the corner is a pile of empty Guinness cans, and more cigarette ends than you could shake a stick at. I can see him now (he’s been playing Solitaire, but don’t tell anyone or it’ll ruin his street cred), tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. And he looks pretty pissed off at me. The other characters left as soon as my back was turned.


So I sit here, feeling a little guilty, and wonder how to begin again half way through a story that a previous me began to write. Well, I’m spending a good chunk of time just staring at the screen, trying to refresh myself with the characters (come back!) and the emotional point they’d reached within the story, and of course getting to grips with the story itself. I’m clinging to it all by a single thread – the one that sat me here in the first place. In order to re-acquaint myself, I’m going through my Chapter Profile, updating it, enhancing it, and slowly the story is coming back to me.

I’m at 20k words now and I’ve barely made a dent in the story I have in mind. The thread is growing thicker.