100 Days to Write a Novel Week Eight

There was no week seven. I flitted across the border and took it with me.

In Glasgow, I met with another writer. We spoke, and ate a vegan meal, then watched random music in a basement. Drummer with mouthgag, a band describing themselves as being like ‘a sad wank in a bath’ and the headliners who somehow were the worst of the three. But were very energetic. I didn’t write anything.

In Loch Lomond I took a cruise from Luss and saw an osprey. I didn’t write.

I climbed Ben Lomond. It hailed. I got too hot. It was muggy. It rained. Lots of people passed me going both ways. I got to the top and took a photograph. I didn’t write.

I went to Stirling. The Wallace monument, lost the ticket but they let us in anyway, people in Scotland are friendly and nice. I drove the same road several times, parked in the same car park twice. Spent a few hours at the castle. Bumped unexpectedly into a writer from Bristol. We chatted for a while then went our separate ways. I didn’t write.

I drank a lot of whisky and visited a pub that was closed and one that wasn’t. It drizzled. I didn’t write.

I went to Edinburgh and did the Fringe – comedy, show, theatre, weird wrestling videos with comedians, shows, more shows, more comedy. I didn’t write.

I met a writer in Edinburgh. We drank lots of beer at the book festival. I listened to writers talk about their writing. I bumped into another writer I know who I didn’t know lived in Scotland. He went off to listen to other writers talk about writing. I ate Chinese food and didn’t write.

The tablet and keyboard went unused. Lugged from Glasgow to Dumbarton to Edinburgh pointlessly.

I watched Twitter as thousands of people converged on Dublin for WorldCon and all my writer friends socialised and probably talked about writing.

I didn’t write.

It’s now week eight and the total still stands at 31,000

I have some catching up to do.

<Cracks Knuckles>

 

 

Published by suttope

Pete Sutton has a not so secret lair in the wilds of Fishponds, Bristol and dreams up stories, many of which are about magpies. He's had stuff published, online and in book form, and currently has a pile of words that one day may possibly be a novel. He wrote all about Fishponds for the Naked Guide to Bristol and has made more money from non-fiction than he has from fiction and wonders if that means the gods of publishing are trying to tell him something. You can find him all over social media or worrying about events he’s organised at the Bristol Festival of Literature. On Twitter he’s @suttope and his Bristol Book Blog is here: http://brsbkblog.blogspot.co.uk/ He's contributing editor of Far Horizons e-magazine which can be found here: http://info-far-horizons.wix.com/far-horizons-emag

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