The name of the main character in Blackwatertown has been a lingering problem for me. I’ve been putting off resolving the situation so as not to get caught up in interminable contemplation of this name and that name, to the extent of doing no writing.
My worry was that it was just too similar to living people, who might understandably be a bit miffed to read about the mullarkey their fictional alter ego gets up to – especially as much of my inspiration has come from real incidents.
However, at last, the problem is solved. I have the new name. It works. I’ll introduce you another time when it has settled in a bit. I just need to change it throughout the text (fine), and remove some convoluted passages that existed mainly to accommodate the old name, and then develop all the good stuff that flows from the new name.
All systems go. No problem. So why isn’t it happening?
Night shifts. Family. Buying shoes. Making the tea. Cleaning the bog. How do you fit in bright-eyed clear-minded writing time?
(I know, I know… You just stop whingeing and get on with it.)
Blackwatertown 