Ok for the first time in many years I just forgot it Monday, last week. I had just put Barbs on the plane for six weeks with grandchild in England, and came back to cope as I usually do, by just working until I am exhausted, and sleeping, and doing it again. At the moment it is mostly digging post holes under the house. This is actually worse than it sounds. Firstly, the holes are around 4-5 foot deep, into dry gravel, and hit a layer of dry clay at 4 foot. No space for a space for a pick-axe or mattock, so it is hit it with a crow-bar and haul out the bits. Fun. Anyway, 3 dug, one post in, busy with no. 4, 23 to go. Yes, I do use an auger where possible. Mostly, it is not.

I made the serious error of thinking I’d reach down – lying down – into the hole, and scoop the gravel into a bucket. Which sort of worked – until I tried to get out of the hole. Pretty much from hips up is in the hole. And there is nothing much to push out on. I could yell my head off – this is remote rural Australia – and even if I wasn’t down a hole, muffled by dirt, there is no-one to hear me. I got to thinking it saved half the cost of a funeral if I was stuck there. My phone was in my pocket – as reachable as the moon, and it might be a week or two before anyone missed me. Well, Barbs might message me… but it might be a while before she got someone out there to do a wellness check. I was on ambulance call (beeper in pocket) so it would have been me they called…

And here we have a typical story scenario – or perhaps just a great cartoon. Person with their legs kicking in the air, stuck down a hole. And just how do you get them out? Let’s say they’re you lead character, who, in general, the writer wants to be an active participant in solving their own problems. So: no convenient rescue. You’re a good writer, you’ve already used your ration of two co-incidences per book (after that, suspension of disbelief gets difficult.

You’re a pantser, so your normal process is getting your characters into dire trouble and then thinking of a way to get them out. Or… sometimes deeper in. This latter approach seems like a great idea until you find they’re so deep in trouble, there is no way out by their own efforts — and either they need rescue or die. I have got there (both in life and story). It’s a poor thing to do in a story, in my opinion.

In this case, deeper disaster was not called to serve. Instead, the rim of the bucket I had in there to fill was enough for me to push on and lever myself up on. From there, only chest deep wriggling, scrabbling and pushing did fine, if not for my dignity, at least my future.

I resolved to be a plotter. I am sure this resolve will last, until next time.