When in Doubt Have a Man Come Through a Door with a Gun in His Hand
Raymond Chandler's adage and some other firings of my neurons
I find that as I write Cloudfall live, with no settled ending (yip, not even I know at this stage), several things occur to me:
You’re awful; just give up and lock yourself in a cupboard
This is pretty decent; keep going
Meh, why not
Is this going anywhere?
What else would you do?
I can never pick one abiding thought beyond number 5 from that list. Indeed, what else would I do? Is number 1 just a thing that occurs to anyone who does anything remotely arty or creative? Is number 2 because you need to be a wee bit full of yourself to write your thoughts down and shovel them into the public domain? Is number 3 just a thing we all say when doing anything?
I’ve nae idea.
It is, however, thought 4 I find the most captivating. Cloudfall is the fourth long-form piece of fiction I have written and, to date, the only one I have written episodically. I wrote Engineered in one manic sitting, coming off the back of filling my head full of Martin Amis’ sickly sweet prose in Money. Thought number 4 never entered into my brain with Engineered. With Cloudfall, however, I find it comes around a lot. Perhaps this is because I don’t have a clearly defined road map. I know where I am going, and the direction, but the process is akin to driving from Glasgow to London in the pre-motorway age. I take some comfort from Raymond Chandler’s famous maxim in this moment, though:
“When in doubt, have a man come through a door with a gun in his hand.”
Having two weeks between chapters kind of necessitates cliffhangers, and maybe the counter-point narratives of present/past in the chapters don’t help—or perhaps they do; I’ve no idea. It is interesting, though, that this whole exercise prompts that response from me: is this going anywhere?
I sincerely think it is, though I would be interested to know what you lot think, especially youse in the paid seats.
I think I have one more political tirade to see out the election season with, though I might keep my powder dry until after the general election; who knows? I’m hardly fooling myself into thinking people listen to me anyway - why should they? I shall keep my one-man throwing shite at the moon schtick minimised and focus back on the fiction. With that in mind, chapter 6 of Cloudfall will land tomorrow. I had a cold this week and decided to watch Succession, on the couch, feeling sorry for myself. Perhaps the awfulness of the characters on there aided my recovery. Great show, though.
In the meantime, let me know your thoughts, even if yer no paying to get mines.