I thought I had it, then words fucking leapt off the page embarrassed to be seen with each other. Not one to moan I mapped my way back. It was my partner’s idea, mindmapping, and it did help me track down my characters and narrative. But then it went galactically out of control and I landed in the midst of the pitch-fork bearing posse of my fiction (I’ve always liked that word– posse, not fiction). It was the sketchpad that did it. I wrote (yes longhand!) and used collage to capture images and scenes. I mutilated my literary magazines.
I’m not sharing all my pages here of course. This is a work in progress and who knows one of you might be crazy enough to elope with them.