Chris Stanley's Bazaar

I have to admit I’m not one for savouring the moment. My partner complains that I snaffle treats down so quickly I never actually enjoy them, whereas she can drag out a packet of biscuits over the course of your average season of Downton Abbey . It’s not my fault; my late grandmother’s treat cupboard contained more chocolate than a tuckshop run by Errol Brown. I’m not used to moderation. But you know, I know when to slow down and enjoy the quiet moments. Just because I’m on intimate terms with e-numbers it doesn’t mean I wanted Constable to paint a gang of lads playing headers and volleys in front of the Haywain. The best moments in drama, and sometimes in comedy too, happen when they’re part of a slow release; a dawning realisation that you didn’t see coming. This blog post is about momentum, and the things I’m going to have to tinker with when it comes time for me to redraft The Sad Club . Momentum is tightly bound up with plot, one element of the Holy Trinity of writing (th

Keen readers of this blog will be aware that this is my first post in a few weeks. Because of the Easter break, I've been writing an awful lot because the job I do allows me two solid weeks of time, so personal circumstances notwithstanding, that's what I've done. So all told, I've managed sixteen thousand words on my novel, three or four solid days on another project, and nine hundred cups of PG Tips. Unfortunately, my chocolate egg eating record is still waiting to be smashed, but you can't have everything. I'm on the home stretch of  The Sad Club  now, with about nine chapters to go. That sounds like a lot but it really isn't; many writers will tell you that when they're on it, they could write another hundred thousand words before their morning cornflakes. I've done a very basic plan of what I feel has to happen before I call time and I intend to stick to it.  So when I'm on such a prolific streak, why would I want to share that t