I would quite like to write a story about a hot-air balloon again. They creep into most of the things I write. It is like sitting next to a friend who has just met someone. She will keep ramming his name into the conversation, even if you have never met him. That is what I am like with hot air balloons. I found two in the chapter I have just written. I might leave them in until the end.
I would also like to write one of those Choose Your Own Adventure game books. I really liked those when I was younger. I still like them. I like participating with novels. I know there are more sophisticated ways of doing that than throwing dice but that was how I first got the idea that other people’s writing was something you could join in on, and that books were dead until someone picked them up. Also, they were very, very exciting.
I would like to figure out how to do proper endings, and happy endings sometimes. I am not sure how true that last sentence is. I think I’d like to know how to do it, even if I decided not to do it, most of the time.
If most novels are about 80k words or so, I am nearly 1/4 of the way through Underground Cave of Fish. I am not sick of it yet, which is good. I might throw away my plan though.
I have a sort of method where I am going to type it up in chronological order as quickly as I can and not read it back to myself. I will be paying most attention to plot and structure. Then afterwards I can look at it. It will be like a very long plan, a draft, a Skelly-wag. Then I will be able to see what I have got and do all the other interesting things about people and ideas and talking and unmanned deep-sea submersibles.