Unsurprisingly, I did not do any actual writing while I was soaking up the sunshine and scenery in Croatia. I say actual writing because there were quiet people-watching moments when I tried to absorb a lot of what was going on around me. That kind of thing always comes in handy when I least expect it.

I’m back on track now though, and that story I was working on before my holiday is my current priority. I expect to finish it in short order – probably around the 2000 word mark – before getting back to my growing list of stuff in progress.

It is still without a title, which is a little concerning because usually by this stage in the process I have that part nailed on. I don’t think I have ever reached the end of a piece and still not known what to call it. I have a couple of ideas but they are either too on the nose or trying to be too clever, but as long as something comes to me by the final run-through, it’ll be fine.

Well it is finally done. It took a lot longer than I had anticipated, but after powering through the rough patches, Flowers For Someone Else is finished. Perfect? No. But it’s done. It’s not what I had expected at the beginning, but stories rarely stick to the blueprint.

At 3100 words, it is the longest new story I have written for almost five years. Every time I tried to wrap it up the words just kept on coming – not necessarily a bad problem to have, but I was starting to worry I had forgotten how to climax… in a manner of speaking.

Flowers For Someone Else is also the only tale (I can remember) that I’ve done in second person, so that’s a nice one to strike off my creative writing bucket list.

Now I can file that one away and move on…

I had every intention of trying to get some writing done when I was away on holiday last week, but that never came to anything. We were up early every morning, and by the time we got back to the caravan each day after our adventures (and I blogged about it) I was getting tired and it was getting late.

But I have got on with it this week and things are moving along nicely with Flowers for Someone Else. I am sure it will be finished before too long… if I could get out of this habit that I can’t seem to shake.

Every time I open the Word document to carry on with it I go back to the start and begin going through the story meticulousy again. I don’t really know why. Sure, it means the first half of it reads very well, but it also means I haven’t spent too much time with how it all turns out. I guess a psychologist would tell me it’s because I am scared to reach the end. Maybe that’s true because other than my Jack and Patrick stuff I haven’t done much new this year.

But, I’ll work through it, and this time next week I should have another story to show for it.

Rico is drunk more often than he isn’t, and he usually clutches a half-bottle of cheap supermarket vodka to his chest like he is nursing a child. It’s one of those brands that is more petrol than alcohol. Occasionally, when he thinks nobody is watching, he will take a swig. Like anyone really gives a shit. Charlie lets him ride for free as long as he keeps his slurred and salacious comments to himself which – to his credit and my surprise – he usually does.

That’s near the beginning of Flowers For Someone Else, and I probably won’t be changing it. I like it. It’s got a sustainable rhythm, although I’m not even sure what I mean by that. Sometimes, the magic of writing is in how it sounds: how it feels when you read it back. You can’t point it out, and you can’t pin it down. It’s just… right.

Yeah, I know. It all sounds like self-congratulatory bullshit. And to some degree it probably is, because writing can be a very lonely and insulated endeavour. You may go for long stretches when you are the only one who will be saying nice things about your words, so patting yourself on the back from time to time for a job well done is no bad thing.

The story isn’t finished yet, but it’s getting there. And when it’s done, it’s gonna be good.