Another one bites the dust

The second in my rather meagre short story-a-thon is finished. Sir Gwynfor's Lament* weighed in at 7,200 words and twenty-nine pages. A large baby, I think you'll agree, and a difficult birth.

I had it planned out nicely, but as I was writing it, so the plan fell away. Things I had imagined would be important in the story turned out to be mere passing fancies, and what were throw-away ideas became essential hinge-points. All in all it was a bit of a mess.

That's not to say that I'm displeased with the end result. I think it is a fine fantasy short that could well act as a teaser for the Benfro books when a publisher finally gets their act in gear and offers to do the decent thing with them. But why was my plan so far off beam when I actually got down to writing the story? The last Inspector McLean shorty - Natural Causes** - fell neatly into the form I'd made for it.

I think part of the problem is the little gremlin of guilt lurking in the back of my brain. I'm meant to be planning the last two books of the Benfro series, but so far I've managed to come up with about three months worth of good excuses, diversions and other guff for not doing it. I even bought a whiteboard (which now graces the wall where my Brian Bolland Judge Dredd covers used to be) so that I could scribble down ideas that came to me as I was doing other things (which they tend to, particularly when I'm on the phone). I've written a few key points up there, but my handwriting's so bad I can't read some of them.

So when I came to do a short plan for Sir Gwynfor (most male dragons are Sir this, or Sir that; female dragons are this the wise, or that the fair - you learn something every day), I attacked it like the plan for a novel, only shorter obviously, and with only one strand to it. But the short story is a very different beast indeed, so my page and a half of poorly scribbled notes became increasingly useless as I went along.

And then last night, when I thought I was three scenes from the end, I suddenly realised that I wasn't - I was actually at the end, surprising twist and all. I'd just missed out one small additional scene, which I wrote this morning. Finished.

Which leaves Sir Benfro.

What I need is an epiphany - a lightbulb moment when it all slots into place. Trace had one recently, which is most unfair, since I definitely need one more.

Or alternatively there's this great idea I've got for a SF shorty...

* sadly you can't see it. I've high hopes that it will be published in an anthology, about which I know very little. Hopefully my agent will have more details soon, and I can share them with you. Meantime, you can read this instead, and this, which is sort of a sequel. It's where the whole Benfro thing started.

** and you can't see this one either (unless you ask nicely), for the same reason. But you can find all the other Inspector McLean stories here and here. Try 'guest' and 'chegwin' and see where they get you.