Chapter 7
7
Love_Drive_Draft1.doc
Target word count: 1,000
Current word count: 1,265
Four weeks to go …
‘This is sooo bad.’
It’s a new day and I can barely read over what I’ve spent the last five hours writing. Actually, three hours if you minus the time I’ve spent intermittently looking for a job, checking my emails to see whether I’ve received any updates on the applications I submitted yesterday (I have not), and reading the comments under Wale’s Instagram photos (he has his fair share of haters, but people still thirst).
I’ve worked out that if I manage to write 1,000 words per day, in four weeks’ time I should have racked up just under 30,000, which, hopefully, should be enough to appease Mayee. My plan is simple: write whatever comes to mind but with the speed of a coke addict. Lucky for me, I’ve never been one of those writers who are hell-bent on having their story all mapped out before they can start. Neither have I been one of those writers who spends copious hours drafting up ten-page bios on every single bit-part character. No, when I write I’m a loose cannon. Anything is up for grabs. I become that manic shopper who enters Tesco minutes before it’s about to close and hauls practically anything into their trolley. The goal is to reach the till and pay before the security guards get all huffy. The goal here is to Get. The. Story. Down.
But like most things you do in a frenzy, you end up having a few regrets. You realize, as you unpack, that although you conveniently picked up some butter, you did not pick up any toilet roll – the very thing that made you do a late dash in the first place. And although you have a month’s supply of milk, you, unfortunately, do not have the fridge space for it. Gradually, as the adrenaline wears off, you think, Hmm , maybe I should have thought this through.
That is exactly what I’m experiencing as I read over my work. I actually feel like I’m on a come-down.
Thanks to giving the wacky side of my brain full rein, I’ve managed to write a chapter as outlandish as a fever dream, where anything and everything happens. In this chapter, there’s a minor car accident, a limping turkey and a young handsome stunt driver who used to be a former race car champion.
I rake my hair vigorously. I know my draft doesn’t need to be perfect – after all, it is a draft – but I can’t stomach the thought of Mayee reading it and thinking this is all I’ve got to show for the last several months.
Maybe Shona was on to something. Maybe I should send Mayee The Ultimate Payback .
I scour the many thumbnails on my desktop before finally locating the manuscript. I’m seconds from clicking the document open when I’m distracted by a PowerPoint thumbnail titled ‘Vision board’. Gosh, I haven’t looked at that in months.
This is going to hurt, but I can’t help myself. I open the PowerPoint.
Pictures. Loads of them. There’s an image of a Waterstones, a Barnes the proudest I’ve seen them. And right at the very top of the page is an affirmation I wrote to myself: My name is Temiloluwa Ojo and I’m an author.
There’s a gnawing ache in the pit of my stomach.
I only get one chance to be a debut, so if I’m going to publish a book, I want it to be about something that I’m passionate about, not a hastily written treatise about my ex. The Ultimate Payback was born out of anger. I want to spread love through my writing. Granted, I’m not crazy about Love Drive but who’s to say that passion won’t come in time? And, who knows, perhaps a story involving a car accident, a limping turkey and a stunt driver slash former race car champion who later becomes my protagonist’s love interest would turn out to make a genius novel? For now, I just have to sit in the discomfort of my word puke and celebrate having achieved my word-count target for today.