OH, MY ACHY, CAKY HEAD…(even my hair hurts now)

So here’s the deal; I’ve had these characters wandering about in my brain for six or so years. Characters with lots to say but nothing I recognised as jazzy enough to write down or, maybe I didn’t have enough writer’s know-how to be able to recognise the juice of what they were telling me. Then about three years ago I had the chance to take a couple of writers courses and suddenly, these characters got a lot more interesting. Go figure eh…

The list of characters have been growing, some originals morphing, new worlds meeting, and even though I never seriously planned to write a book (magazine pieces work fine for my short attention span), I found myself living more in the growing world of these individuals because their world is one hell’va lot more interesting than mine. Some characters ring similar to ones in my world, but hey, these ones really get around and some are such spazzes they make me laugh outloud. Now I’m finding my main problem is to recognise how many of their antics I can include in a book for children.

It’s a hard job, all this thinking. Rather surprising. I used to have a secret picture, deep inside my head— a true writer could always be found slouched over a keyboard, or with knarly pen in hand, working feveriously, brain standing to one side as the story emerges, hardly eating, rarely sleeping, smelling more dicey each day, and growing tenser and taunter until the last world pumps out. Till the big brown envelope is licked and the after-cigarette is smoked to a stub. Then, and only then, does the thinking brain return to fill the void.


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