The countdown has started.  It’s official – I have a deadline and 70 to 80 thousand words to produce before it hits.  I am going to be spending the next month chained to my laptop, when I’m not rooting round small towns trying to get people to pour out their secrets about the subjects of the book.

Now I’m faced with the actual reality of having this mountain of words to write I’m suddenly starting to wonder what the hell I blithely signed my name to.  How in the name of everything that’s anything have I agreed to write 70 thousand words on a news story…a news story that I was used to writing copy on in the hundreds of words, not the thousands. 

I keep telling myself I’ve already written nearly 20 thousand words but the problem is that is over four chapters.  If I keep writing this amount I’ll end up with a book that’s only 35 thousand words long – that’s barely a novelette!

How the hell to you expand on facts.  I’m so used to writing this subject matter succinctly – it’s not like writing fiction where if something is flowing too quickly you can add in a scene or two.  I can’t put words into my characters’ mouths and I’m not a Victorian novelist, whole chapters of description just don’t do it for me.

Oh what did I say yes to? 

OK.  Focus!  I’ve made a commitment and if I don’t write enough in the time I’ve been given I’ll have to hand back the advance and I’m damned if I’m going to do that (it’s only little!)  I’m probably just kicking my heels because it’s a bank holiday and all my neighbours are having noisy and fun sounding barbeques while I’m sat here listening to mp3s and trying to keep a grip on my sanity. 

It probably doesn’t help that I’ve been sitting here all morning trying to get into the “Zone” and chugging back mug after mug of coffee.  Note to self, coffee does not help with the writing of many sentences and nice flowing descriptions.

This isn’t getting anything done either.  Ok, rant over.  Back to work….