Lost in my own head …

Know that feeling of being so lost in the zone?

You lost the ability to see?

You walk around blindly but feel as if you’ve got stuck inside your own head.

That is me often but it was certainly me yesterday. Shall I tell you why? Oh go on then …

I have completed the nitty-gritty copy edits on While No One Was Watching, made some small changes by expanding in one or two areas as needed, and corrected any other formatting issues etc — and now I am looking at how I want to change the ending.

I read it all again and then found myself writing a kind of afterword and somehow Lydia’s voice came through and I saw what I needed to do with the ending. By then I had to leave the house as I had to post off a copy-edit and had novel crit group which would mean turning to the new novel that I know needs a fair bit of work.

And that’s when it happened.

I barely remember the bus ride, or my walking around town because my eyes felt defocussed and I was lost inside my novel.

I was in 1963 and I was at Dealey Plaza and standing on the grassy knoll. And what’s worse (or better!) was I wanted to stay lost — I didn’t want to come back.

It’s been a while since I worked closely on this novel so it felt wonderful to be lost in it again and it’s this state I love. I talked about the ‘fictive dream state’ before and that’s why I do this.

I found myself nursing a cup of black coffee at the café in Debenhams yesterday afternoon with my purple pen scribbling my new scene ending details and this morning I am raring to get stuck in. I should finish the edits next week I hope.

Walking around in this state is a little like being in a daze. As if reality and fiction brushed alongside one another, so close it was hard to see where one world ended and the other began. In many ways this is how I see the novel. I have woven fact and fiction together, allowed fictional characters to walk alongside real characters and as I was writing the afterword I had this wonderful thought. I imagined a time long into the future, perhaps when I’ve gone, some High School kid Googles (or whatever search engine they have then) some of the names of the characters I created, perhaps even Eleanor Boone to see if a child really did disappear from the grassy knoll at the exact moment in time Kennedy was shot, and somewhere a smile will tease my lips apart.

Maya Angelou

Have a great day all!



Filed under 50th anniversary of Kennedy Assassination, Acceptance, being a successful writer, Blogging, Dreaming, Editing, ideas, Indentity, John F Kennedy, Kennedy, Learning to be a writer, Living the dream, Loss, Love, Novel writing, Parthian Books, Passion for life, Passion for writing, Plot, principles in writing, Psychological Thriller, Publishing, Reading, Sense of place, Setting, Story Arc, Story Arcs, Structure, The Publishing Priocess, Theme, thoughts in fiction, While No One Was Watching, Winning, Writing

2 responses to “Lost in my own head …

  1. Sounds like you’ve got it rocking and rolling Debz.

  2. Oh I remember that state, it is wonderful (except when you don’t see the neighbour’s hanging basket right in front of you and nearly knock yourself over walking into it. Yep, done that one!) It has been too long since I got lost in my head. Perhaps I should try and go back there soon…

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