I’m deep in a maze. Racing through tight pathways, high hedges on both sides. Fear grips me. There are people all around me. Some are hidden, some push and shove for attention. To begin with it was exhilarating. I would almost call it fun. But then…

This is no physical maze I am lost in. This is novel editing!  This week I chatted with a friend I had not seen for years about my work. The only metaphor for editing that seemed to fit my mood was a maze. My friend looked worried as I described rushing through ever darkening pathways accompanied by an eclectic group of characters. One of whom needed to die… In a state of panic, she was only slightly relieved when I explained the characters were purely figments of my imagination.

Before I began to write I imagined the editing process to be a case of “wordsmithery”. Finding the perfect prose to tell the world my story. Creating perfect sentences.

If only it were so easy. Instead I am trying to hold a dozen characters in my mind, their life’s revealing themselves as each page develops. And then there’s the plot twists, turns and moments where even I find myself lost in the middle of the maze, never mind my future readers.

After an enforced break of five days I was literally losing the plot. My characters were merging. Some even swapped personalities. My story was racing away from me. Despair!

A couple of fell runs later and the pieces began to fall into place. Yes, a character had to die. But the others are stronger for it. New narrative pathways are opening and I am beginning to see a shaky map of the route ahead.  Onwards!