I’m always starting novels. They’re fun to begin, tedious to continue, and impossible to finish. Anyway, here is another attempt. I am using some tips and prompts to help me along. I read a post online that recommended that to help the plot forward, and not getting stuck in elaborate narration, you can try to visualise the different scenes, as if you were writing a movie. It helps to be visual, precise and explicit, and then you can scaffold around that. 

For the actual story, I was inspired by some of my favourite books The Neapolitan Novels by Elena Ferrante, which follow the whole lives of two female best friends- their complicated, yet unbreakable bond. 

Main character: Ida. Setting: Canada and Sweden. Time: Present (Canada) Past, her childhood and youth (Sweden). 

CHAPTER 1

-Empty city streets in the evening. Clapping and banging heard. People are out on their balconies and lawns with pots and pans. 

-A couple on the couch in front of TV. The woman, Ida, looks out the window, yawn and says: “It’s seven already?” No reply from the guy.

-Ida goes out on her balcony, stretches. on the balcony next to hers is a woman in her pyjamas, smoking. “How was the hospital today?” asks Ida. “You know
 Just one panic attack. It’s the fucking visor.” Silence, then woman says:  “Wish they’d shut up”, she says. “I have to be back in five hours”. 

-Ida goes back inside. “Spoke to another human today”, she says. Guy hmms absent-mindedly, scrolling his phone. “Or, more like a zombie. Oh, and you killed my baby succulent. Drowned her.” no reply. “Murderer”, she says, and he finally looks up, going “mmh?”. She sighs and scrolls her phone. 

-Ida coughs. They both freeze for a moment, looking dead serious. Then they start to laugh. “That’s it. We’re dead”, the guy says. “Shut up”, she says. “It’s just a-” cough “-tickle in my throat”. 

-Night time. Ida is on the couch, twisting turning, moaning from her fever. Her breath is hoarse. 

-(Flashback) You can still hear her strained breath, but now all we see is dark water. She is struggling to get to the surface. You can hear splashes and people screaming. She starts coughing. 

-She is still coughing, but now she is awake, in a hospital, on a ventilator. Panic-breathes. Nurses trying to calm her saying: “You’re okay, sweetie, you’re okay.” “You’re a lucky girl, you’ll be fine”. 

-She is back home, looking frail. Sits on the couch in the evening with tv on. then shuts it off, removes all the garbage on the sofa, and lies down, staring. scrolls her phone, but soon throws it on the ground. 

-She goes to the desk and opens her laptop. Puts her face in her hands as if she has to do something difficult but important. She starts typing an email: “Hej”. then she slams the laptop shut. Opens it again. “Hej
”. She can’t do it. Instead, she googles: “Time in Sweden”. It says: 6:08 AM. 

-She grabs her phone. She is starting to cry. She heads for the door. In the apartment complex she bumps into someone who is wearing a mask who swears at her. 

-She is outside and she dials the number, hand shaking. She falls to her knees on the ground and sobs, phone to her ear. She hears the signal. Then, suddenly, someone picks up: “HallÄ ?” Ida sobs: “Hej
 det Ă€r jag.” (Hello, it’s me).

*End of chapter, next one will cut to the past.*