I considered posting about Saturday’s Delhi bombs and the high accident rate on Indian railways, but I assured you my next post would be cheerful. And a promise is a promise.

So let’s retreat to made up worlds and flights of fancy. Yes folks, I’m harping on about NaNoWriMo again.

Victorian writer Here’s my deal: my plot is still fairly shapeless, but at least has a few characters ready to go. The real difficulty for me is finding one strong idea and sticking to it. When I’m pondering possible plots, I keep wandering off into different places, different genres, even different eras. This can’t be right.

It occurred to me today that I am probably amalgamating too many disparate, half-formed ideas. Having never actually written a novel before, I seem to be mashing together every plot that’s ever occurred to me, in the hope that some of it might work. That might turn out like a literary fruit salad, but it’s more likely to be the reading equivalent of emptying a four course dinner into a blender and then drinking the resulting sludge.

I need to be more selective.

Incidentally, the NaNoWriMo handbook is quite an amusing read. Best of all, it reassures you that plot points will leap into your head while you’re writing, and that this spontaneity is to be welcomed: “Even if you don’t know exactly how you’re going to fit those five ninjas into your courtroom drama, hey, they’ve arrived.”

So nuh-uh, I’m not going to worry about my plot. The path will reveal itself.

And I’m going to keep the blog going throughout too, because I’m a glutton for punishment.