Many of you have been asking if the library is done and, if so, how it turned out. I thought I’d interrupt the writing for a quick tour. In short, it’s finished and functional, though still in need of a few things. As you can see from the empty upper shelves, number 1 on that list is books. Am I the only one who believes that empty shelves just look wrong? A lack of space in recent years has meant that almost all my purchases have been in digital format, but now it’s time to start building the real book collection again. Most of the books stacked here have just been pulled out of long term storage. A few are still coughing and dusting themselves off. It’s been something of a reunion with these almost-forgotten friends.

Here are a few glimpses of the process.

In the photo above, the original (tiny) room can be seen on the left. One of the internal walls has already been moved slightly outward. The shoddy brickwork, if any of you construction types are wondering, was redone, and the foreman who clearly fancied himself a wizard – based on how he left that gable hanging there by magic – was not buried under a hail of bricks before we were able to pull it down safely.

At this stage, all the walls have been moved outward, borrowing from rooms on two sides as well as travelling into a chunk of dead garden space. The clerestory windows up on the left were put in to provide all-day light and winter warmth. The far end of the room opens out with some unusual angles because of that rock which would have required half a dozen elephants and a wheelbarrow of explosives to move. Fortunately, I like the rock. The resultant room is P shaped (the letter, not the vegetable).

For the layout of fixtures, I drew up numerous arrangements, most of which created tight little aisles between high shelves that would have been dark and stuffy. In the end I had to concede that I didn’t have the space for a real library, and what I needed was the feel and functionality rather than the traditional design. So I settled on a more open approach.

Furnished:

The room is quiet, airy, and full of natural light. The downstairs area is built to be shady and cool in summer and the upstairs sunny and warm in winter, so no need for artificial temperature control. I’m one of those people who likes to feel the change of seasons – within limits. Hotel-like environments aren’t for me. First thing I do when checking in is throw open the windows and gasp.

With the movement of air through the library comes an occasional movement of flies and mosquitoes. Enter the zapper racquet. It’s the most fantastic work break. I cease to be a writer and become a hunter, stalking, setting up ambushes, and pouncing with deadly cunning. Once the battle is done, I settle behind the keyboard and get back to work, cherishing an image of six charred legs pointing skyward.

Working here is an unusual experience. I find I hardly get tired. It’s such a contrast to the claustrophobic, stressful spaces I had before. Sometimes I even seem to gain energy while working, even during long days that start before the sun hits the windows and carry on late into the night. And the next morning I can’t wait to dive back into it. Productivity is beyond anything I’ve managed before, and it’s not slog work; it all feels refreshing, which naturally leads to better ideas and more inspired writing. Much as I lamented the time-cost of building, I have to say that I can see this is already starting to pay off. It’s the book factory I hoped for.

The desk is a simple table which, like the stairs and mezzanine level, is made from reclaimed scrap wood. It’s almost 8ft long which allows me to have several workstations open at any time. Mostly that has to do with the study and research side of things.

Obviously there’s still a lot that can be done to finish the library off. For example, I really need to get a suit of armour – with a few servo motors and a remote control so I can make unsuspecting visitors jump or scream, according to their preference. The room is simply incomplete without that feature. But this and other such points of beauty will need to wait. It’s time for this room to earn its place in the house.

In the previous blog post, I wrote of tools and spaces. The space has certainly worked out to be all I’d hoped, something for which I’m tremendously grateful. What then of the tools? I’ve often been asked why, if I’m already writing books, I decided to enrol in formal study. Was it necessary? Was it even a good idea?

Many artistic people say they don’t want to learn from institutions of established knowledge because of how it might rob them of their unique expression. As an English teacher, I used to occasionally discover writing so unique and original that it couldn’t be deciphered. Prose is not like modern visual art. When words aren’t clear, they generally aren’t effective, and making meanings clear is not as simple as one would expect. There are rules and guidelines – especially for the written word as opposed to the spoken word – that can’t be stumbled on but must be learned. A classic example in the world of commas is the difference between “Let’s eat, Grandma,” and “Let’s eat Grandma.” Even the smallest details of punctuation can have colossal impacts on meaning.

But this is not where it ends. Achieving clarity is a bit like making your first palatable meal. That’s not where learning stops; it’s where the real learning begins. Just like the same dish prepared by different cooks can be anywhere on the scale from swallowable to mouthwatering, writing can range from bland to stirring. I don’t think anyone could ever say they have fully mastered an art form. there’s always something else to learn.

So while I would agree that no artist should want his or her natural expression altered and made more like someone else’s, any voice can be more fully developed, made to sound both better and more like itself.  Of course, formal study isn’t the only way, and for some people it might not even be the best way, but I guess I just have a fondness for universities. After all, they have such beautiful libraries!

Returning to Book 2’s manuscript after the final submission, I’ve noticed a difference in how I work. As with the image from the previous blog post, it really does feel like working with a sharper knife. It was always my hope to make the second book better than the first, and I decided that if it meant going through a programme that would grind a keener edge to my story-carving blade, it would be worth it in the end.

So, after passing through the maelstrom of owner-building and the grinder of studies, I think you can imagine how eager I was to get back to the revisions. These were characters I’d missed, places I wanted to resume exploring, and pages I needed to refine. Not wanting to overlook anything, I re-started the revisions on page 1 and went deeper than in any previous rewrite. For the first time, I feel confident that what’s emerging from the current rewrite will be ready for the alpha readers.

That’s all for now. I need to get back to my friends who are currently in a meeting with an underground agent, and I’m required before they can carry on. Liru is fixing me with an eye that’s several degrees sharper than any blade in the room – seen or unseen. I linger here at my peril. I’ll post another update when we’re further along in the process. Until then, thanks so much for the patience and support. I’m doing all I can to make sure it’s rewarded.