I'm cheating on my WIP
Technically, my WIP is the third in a series of novels exploring the minutiae of life in the Cotswolds. In fact, this WIP is little more than a plan and I cheated on it.
I began a comedy script. I had to. It came to me in the bath. Whenever an idea comes to one in the bath or in a dream it must be acted upon. Everyone knows this. Whilst working on the comedy script, my bid for the Ms Twitter UK title suddenly took off and demanded my full attention. I have written more timed haiku over the last couple of weeks than I care to remember. The speed at which I can now translate Medieval poetry is quite impressive. Publishers have a good idea of how fast my brain works.
This should all be good news but now I am sat between: bills I have no hope of paying; a WIP to which I am supposed to be dedicated; a WIP with which I embarked upon a dalliance and a strange popularity contest.
This, I guess, is my true WIP. When I started to think of a way to break out of my physical and financial constraints I knew I had to take care of every angle to be successful: the writing; the platform; the deal. I spend two years taking care of the writing. I have spent seven months building a platform and now have over 1000 readers following me. Now I have to prove I can motivate a readership. That's what the contest is about. My real WIPs call to me but, for their sakes, I have to finish this well.
