CC Devine Says...

A Strong Online Presence?

2009-10-11T13:38:00.003+01:00

I was very, very late to the Novel Racers' coffee morning this week but delighted to log on this morning and discovered a great post from Lane about the importance of cultivating a strong online presence:

"We are constantly advised that if we want to be a writer who sells, we need to cultivate a strong online presence. Today's market is obviously über competitive and we're told that we must use 'online platforms' such as blogging, Facebook, personal websites and Twitter, to the fullest extent, to make our presence known to the widest possible audience."

I think that it was a great post and I do worry about this...I think that it's important to raise your profile but do agree that for those of us who are unpublished it's more important to get the novel written than spend too much time on other online activities.

I'm not the most consistent of bloggers at the best of times but this year has been a disaster for me personally and professionally which has affected my inclination to blog. Certain topics I may have blogged about became off limits and it would have been difficult to blog about other things that were happening without potentially upsetting relatives/friends.

On top of that I've been battling with my internet provider for being crap (long story) and have had very intermittent access since February. By the time I've checked my emails and done a few other bits either at my relative's place or from an internet cafe I have little inclination to blog or read others' blogs.

My hope is to get back on my feet shortly and get back into the blogosphere more regularly as I've learned an awful lot from fellow bloggers and believe that that's useful and not just from a profile point of view. On the plus side I've been doing a lot of writing these past few months so that makes me feel a tad less guilty about being incommunicado on the blog (and Twitter, Facebook etc.) front!

The New Writers' Scheme

2009-09-14T23:53:00.004+01:00

The kind man in the print shop told me that he was sure that it was a winning dissertation. I sheepishly told him that it was a partial novel and walked away with flushed cheeks at having told a stranger that at all and feeling happy that a random young man had a good feeling about it. This was in spite of my rational self telling me that it was a load of old tosh and that he probably said that to all the girls (and boys!).

Seeing my partial in double-spaced one page layout was the strangest thing. I've been working on it for what seems like forever in single-spaced format. When I print it off - which is rare - I tend to shrink it and cram it onto as few pages as possible so as not to drain my titchy printer cartridge.

Somehow seeing the title page and a big fat wad of double-space lines made it seem like a proper novel. It looked professional. Previously I had slogged away thinking of it as 'The Book' but it was all a bit unreal. With a mixture of anxiety and excitement I stuffed it into the postbox and said a prayer.

It Don't Matter If You're Black or White

2009-07-08T22:44:00.005+01:00

Had a very odd phone call with the nieces last night.

They had managed to sneak a peak (don't ask) of the Michael Jackson spectacle before bedtime. Consequently they were totally confused by the time I called.

'We watched Michael-Jackson-he's-dead,' Niece Senior informs me. 'He was black when he was a boy and now he's white. Want to speak to x?'

Before I can answer #2 is on the phone with her trademark speed talk. 'We saw Michael-Jackson-he's-dead Auntie CC.'

Ah, the Michael Jackson He's Dead show. At that moment I didn't envy my sister-in-law who had to explain that one.

'Michael-Jackson-he's-dead is in the box,' she tells me though I suspect that he is not in the 'box' at all but elsewhere. 'He was black when he was little and he's going to come back alive and be white.'

Huh?

It transpires that some of the confusion is in part due to a new puppy in the family. Both girls thought that my aunt's new brown and black terrier puppy called Hughie was the reincarnation of her beloved white Westie dog - Hamish - who who was sadly put down a couple of weeks ago much to the girls' distress.

Between a deceased white dog, a tiny black/brown puppy and the varying shades of Michael Jackson's skin over the years, there will be many questions yet to come as the week goes on.

Procrastination

2009-04-17T16:30:00.003+01:00

A gloriously long day. Nothing planned except writing. All day if I so wish.

But what do I do...?

A dark load, clear through piles of admin, file and recycle. Next I prepare a homemade veggie soup, then make a cup of tea, I read a couple of articles, stare out the window at the gloomy sky and study the rain spatters on the window.

Somewhere around 3.45 I finally switch on the laptop. 3.45pm!!!

Then guess what I do? Yes, you got it - faff around with emails, web browsing, Facebook.

It's now 4.50pm. By the time I get cracking and get on a roll it'll be bedtime but then I'll be in the groove and end up having a late night.

I swear I was more productive when I commuted to central London, worked long hours and partied hard than I am now that I have 'all the time in the world' to write.

Honky vs London?

2009-03-26T10:50:00.004Z

So Honky as I like to call it was absolutely fantastic. Hong Kong has something to offer everyone and a few snatched days over there on the way to Australia last year left me wanting to return.

We enjoyed the madness and high rises, observed the weird and wonderful food items (skinned snake anyone?) on sale and took the ferry as often as we could. After a few days of mayhem we visited more transquil places such as the sleepy, car-free Lamma Island with it's hiking trail, and sleeping fishing village in the photo.

Other days we went to Stanley, visited a nunnery, did a zillion Buddhist temples and all the other usual stuff on the tourist agenda. Generally we had a really relaxing time.

10 days there was more than enough and I was ready to return to London and attempt to give some structure to my work-free existence. Arriving back home to discover daffodils and blue skies was a joy. The two huge magnolia trees outside my window were just budding and everywhere there were signs of Spring.

Sunny afternoons spent with Sr Madrid, park visits with the nieces, lunch with Friend With a Baby, coffees at outside pavement cafes. Ah, this is the life I thought.

And then the rain came.

And reality.

It had to I suppose. I've got to get a job! My mother has taken to presenting me with job applications and I sense that she's on the verge of submitting them for me. The holiday, it appears, is over. I spent hours on Monday completing my first proper job application since becoming unemployed. I've got a few months' grace until I need to start selling my body but I can't wait until the money's about to run out before commencing the search.

Shame because a girl could get used to this lifestyle...

Long'un

2009-03-04T11:02:00.004Z

I've been absent from cyberspace for weeks. Alot has happened...

First I left my job.

Three days later my grandfather was taken ill and the whole family maintained a weekend-long vigil at his deathbed. He died on the Sunday afternoon after a year-long illness.

The next day was the snowday. Beautiful but less so when you've got to drive in it to collect belongings from hospital, register a death, go to the funeral parlour etc. all of which was miles away from each other.

The following week passed in a blur but not being at work meant that I was around to support my mother without worrying about taking time out of the office. Unfortunately I was also on tenterhooks because the announcement about my departure had not gone out and I had work that needed to be handed over but couldn't as I wasn't allowed to talk about having left until the formal anouncement was made...blah, blah, blah.

Monday - funeral of my great auntie at a crem down in Surrey on the most filthy wet day of the year. Peculiar at the end of the day when, instead of saying "goodbye" to relatives, you find yourself saying, "see you on Wednesday" with a wry smile.

Wednesday - grandfather's funeral on a beautiful crisp winter's day. The sun was shining and the priest was lovely if not the campest man of the cloth that I've ever come across. The cemetery was like a bog after the rain two days earlier. The same day the announcement about me finally went out to my colleagues which was a huge relief to be able to be open about not coming back and to start handing work over remotely.

I've been without internet connection hence the radio silence but am now in possession of my very first dongle a name which provokes giggles every time I say it for some childish reason. Frustratingly, it had a bloody child lock on it so I could comment on my own blog but not log on to it or most of the other novel racers' blogs until today.

I've spent the past two weeks getting used to not being at work and also trying to relax before getting my head ready to focus on jobhunting. Some good things have happened:

1. I've become a lady wot lunches. This is only possible if you have pals to lunch with and it happens that between career changes, babies and redundancy there's a little gang of 4 to play with. I've also been meeting up with former colleagues for lunch/drinks. All this activity must stop as it costs a fortune and I'm unemployed now!

2. I've met the most lovely man on Gumtree. Hang on, he's not that kind of man. Sadly. We have totally hit it off but he's gay. He's from Spain and is new to London and wants to improve his English, I want to brush up on my Spanish and we have much in common and have been spending hours together.

3. I've been playing auntie alot more and have been picking up Niece Junior from nursery and making pancakes and such things with her before going back to collect her big brother and sister for more entertainment with statements like: "you know, Auntie CC, this is a cream for bums [sudocream which gets applied to Niece Junior's sore bottom as required] that's why it's call bum cream."

4. I'm off to Hong Kong tomorrow night on a fabulous last minute package. Transpires that it's cheaper to do than a Europe deal because business people aren't travelling for meetings as much as before the credit crunch. My mum who's in dire need of a holiday after all the antics of the past months and I are off to HK for some buzzy city life mixed with the gentler pace of the islands. We may go up to China or pop over to Macau. Am very excited!

5. Best of all, I've been writing!

Will report back in a couple of weeks.

Lady of Leisure

2009-01-29T15:49:00.003Z

It's official. I am now one of the great unwashed, a cider-swiller, a layabout for whom getting up before midday is early.

It hasn't really kicked in yet and I'm absolutely shattered after a week of intense anxiety and waiting not to mention the time leading up to the meetings last week. No doubt the novelty of not needing to go to work will wear off but for the moment I've got an action-packed diary which will I can look forward to rather than dread because I'm too knackered after a day at the office.

I am now free to throw myself wholeheartedly into both my writing and jobhunting. Naturally I'm entertaining thoughts of submitting my work, getting snapped up by a super agent and offered a brilliant book deal which would permit me to give up the search for a 'real' job and fulfil my dreams.

I'm allowing myself to indulge until the weekend and come Monday the daydreaming will have to end and the endless round of interviews, agency meetings etc. shall commence. Still, at least I will be able to devote more time to doing what I like (writing) in between jobhunting.

Another big bonus to this unexpected life of leisure (haha, if only!) is that I'll be able to spend some time with the pregnant Blonde Best Friend who is desperate to be a lady wot lunches but doesn't have anyone except her sister to lunch with and who is also employed.

The sister in question is the lovely Italiana who has recently returned to London after nearly 4 years in Milan so it's a double-whammy - I get to spend time with both of them so there are some silver linings to be had from crap and miserable situations.

I'm going to have to be careful not to get too used to a life without the structure of schlepping into town each weekday. Equally, I think I can allow myself to have a few days' 'holiday' before I embark on my search for a new job.

Now, where did I put the vodka?

Impatience

2009-01-22T18:15:00.003Z

I am soooo impatient. If I ever manage to get published then who knows how I'll cope with waiting for editors' feedback, sales figures etc. For the moment (sadly) that is not a problem that I have to worry about!

It seems as if my future is in the hands of the Gods right now and I'd too impatient and twitchy to contend with it. I want things to be done and dusted so that I can be put out of my misery but I know from past experience than sometimes being forced to wait due to circumstance has provided me with time to reflect and sometimes prompted a change of direction. Right now though I feel very sure of the direction I want to go in and I want to ignore any suggestion that it might be better to hold my horses or take the soft option.

It's funny how in times of tension I seem to be most creative. I'm wound up and not sleeping very well and yet at the same time I've got loads of ideas floating around in my head fighting for space with the negative work-related thoughts!

Previously I've blogged or commented on how therapeutic and cathartic writing can be. I'm changing my stance on this a little. It can be therapeutic but I think it's important to ensure that it's chanelled properly. I've read back parts of my wip that I wrote some time back and sometimes it's really cringe-inducingly obvious as to what was going on in my life at that time which is to the story's detriment.

Note to self: use writing as therapy if necessary but edit harshly so that if its included then it adds value as opposed to being the wrong destination for some venting.

Highs and Lows

2009-01-19T11:23:00.002Z

The past fortnight has been a rollercoaster of emotions.

There are times when I feel completely neurotic and angsty about 'The Future' and then other times I'm delightfully distracted by the budding magnolia trees outside the window of newish flat, the movement across the swollen belly of the Blonde Best Friend whose first child is due in May and my endlessly entertaining nieces.

The work situation continues and I'm reminded of how badly my company handles such things based on my experience in late 2007 and early 2008 before I went to Australia. I'm not going to go into the details here but suffice to say I consulted an employer lawyer in the City last week.

Deciding to seek advice was a significant turning point for me and one that I'd previously dismissed perceiving it to be an aggressive route. This changed when a wonderful colleague pointed out that it was merely a means of helping me make a more informed decision and allowing myself to regain some modicum of control over my future rather than being swept along on a current of passivity.

It felt very empowering in a time of insecurity and helplessness. I practically bounced out of the law firm having received affirmation that my treatment was indeed grossly - I wasn't just being oversensitive nor was I going bonkers!

The high of Thursday was soon forgotten as the low of Friday arrived with more news from my employers which threw a spanner in the works, or so I thought.

I realise now that this is going to be a bumpy ride and I need to steel myself for the euphoric highs and the self-doubting, angst-ridden lows.

Thanks for all your lovely thoughts - it means alot.

To Lose One's Job

2009-01-09T14:17:00.004Z

How exactly does a person 'lose' his/her job? Do you leave it behind on the bus or forget to pick it up from the drycleaners?

Having recently been told that I would be 'let go' (another one see, like you let go of a child's hand?!) I have found myself telling friends and family that I've lost my job and seem to be hung up on the silly wording of the language. Obviously I'd rather focus on the English language than the harsh reality of my precarious situation, forgive me but I'll save that news for another gloomy post.

Language is endlessly fascinating to me and as a languages graduate I'm becoming more and more of a geek about the evolution and rules of English grammar and punctuation as I get older. The more I write the more often I stumble on a question that I can't answer or have a gut feeling about but can't explain the grammar rules behind i.e. who vs whom, which vs that, when to use Future Perfect Continuous Passive etc.

Grammar, spelling and punctuation are the tools of the writer's toolkit and yet I'm of a generation that was not taught grammar or punctuation; I had to learn the rules of my own language to help me learn two other languages. I swear to God that I was sat in an A'Level Spanish class and couldn't explain the difference between a noun and an adjective so how on earth was I going to manage learning another language if I didn't get to grips with my own and it's labeling? I had years' worth of swotting to do but I did it and now I'm hooked (see, told you I was a geek about it).

Lane has written a fantastic post on today's Novel Racers' coffee break about grammar and it's heartening to see from the comments that many of us have weak points when it comes to grammar which is why this community is so great because if you get stuck someone else usually knows the answer.

Now if only one of them can find me a job.

Harry Crimble

2008-12-19T09:41:00.001Z

Harry Crimble one and all.

Normal (i.e. patchy) service will resume shortly once my liver has recovered from overzealous celebrating and my brain is less foggy.

CCx

Colourful Sharing x Lots

2008-12-08T09:55:00.005Z

It was my sister-in-law's birthday last Friday and part of her present from the kids was an enamelled handmirror that Niece Senior was rather fond of. Sharing is not a big part of either of the nieces' vocabularies but on spying the mirror Niece Senior promptly suggested that she and mummy could share it.

Of course she did. What's mine is hers and what's hers is hers....

Whilst Niece Senior is honing her 'gimme, it's mine' skills, Niece Junior is preparing herself for starting nursery in January. She's into her numbers. Recently she was happily working her way through a counting book announcing that there was 1 chicken on the first page, 2 horses on the second page and so on. When she got up past 10 she floundered and declared that there were 'lots' of ducks on that particular page.

Niece Junior doesn't like to be wrong and instead of just admitting that she doesn't know she provides a 'cute' answer and then gets annoyed when it provokes mirth in her audience.

Colours are a minefield for Niece Junior. She gets the names of colours muddled up - blue is pink, red is yellow and so on. Niece Senior thought she would help her little sister to learn the right names for colours pointing out that the colour of grass was green, bananas were yellow and a particular toy was blue.

The lesson over bossy Niece Senior seemed pleased with the progress her pupil had made. This called for one final test:

'What's this?' asked the 5 year old teacher pointing to a green cup on the table.

Niece Junior eyed the plastic cup warily and then declared, 'It's grass coloured.'

Jive-tastic

2008-12-01T13:39:00.003Z

The Rhythm Riot was fabaroony!

Lots of:

Vintage clothing, seamed stockings (foxy), ruby lips, 1940s hair dos, corsets, tattoos, black and white shoes, slicked-back hair,
Fast feet, fancy moves and incredible fitness (others, sadly not me)
Sexy, wacky, comfortable, flashy, modest - all sorts of dancers having a blast. People jiving, lindy-hoping (looks a-maaazing but boy do you have to be fit), fox-trotting and smooching
International musicians, great providing fantastic music
Beautiful burlesque dancers expertly performing the art of tease - incredible how sexy it can be to reveal so little
Sweaty rooms and freezing accommodation reminiscent of an episode of Hi-di-Hi
Jaunt to Whitstable where the delightful shops and cafes provided respite from the biting wind
Drive to Rye for custom and classic car cruise. Huge great Oldsmobiles, bright red pick up trucks and candy coloured American cars
French people (I got caught up in doing a bit of interpretation which was fun), Spanish, Italian, German, American and more to add to the international vibe
Pin-up photographic studio and Hollywood style portrait photographer.

It was lots of fun and more so because I began to recover from the ghastly niece-related bug!

Gastric Not So Fantastic

2008-11-20T13:52:00.004Z

'Projectile vomiting and explosive diahorrea - just two of the treats on offer when you come to our house for dinner! Same time next week?'

'No thanks, I'm washing my hair.'

Ugh. I've been suffering with a gastric bug courtesy of the Naughty Nieces. My brother's had it, my mother and now me. The bathroom in my new flat is about 25 years old and is going to be my first major project, let's put it this way, it's not got the kind of toilet that you'd want to have to become intimate with.

Unfortunately this inconvenient little sickness has coincided with a particularly busy week and also comes as I'm about to go off to my very first Rhythm Riot.

I don't want to feel icky as I'm jiving my way around the dancefloor! I want to enjoy the fantastic bands and make the most of the people-watching opportunities. I love the 40s and 50s 'scene', the gorgeous girls with their bright red lips, cute men with period threads, the vintage cars, the great music and most of all the wonderful dancing.

A green complexion and rumbling guts doesn't fit with my picture of the perfect Rhythm Riot experience. Here's hoping that I can kick this by tomorrow!

November Already?

2008-11-17T12:35:00.001Z

Arghhhhhhhhhh, it's 17 November already! How'd that happen? Where's the year going? My life?

I've been consumed by work (boring work work and not writing work) during the week and then DIY on the weekend so have not been blogging. Lunchtimes and leaving on time are rare at the moment so I don't get the chance to blog at work and do not currently have internet access at Devine Towers.

I got the keys back in September and then spent most of October and early November cleaning, prepping and decorating before some of the furniture arrived. I finally moved in last week and have been so excited about being in my very own home!

Don't want to do the washing up? So don't. Want to paint the walls a violent fuschia pink? So what, it's mine - I can! (Erm, I'd like to add that I haven't actually done this but the point is that I could if I wanted to).

The novelty of spending my weekends slogging away after a hard week in the office will no doubt wear off very soon but for the moment I'm still excited. So excited that I came back after a scrumptious prosecco-fuelled dinner chez Aussie Flower's and got stuck in with painting primer onto my dire kitchen tiles at 1am on Saturday night. Perhaps that's less Excitable First Time Buyer and more Big Fat Loser, I'm not sure...!

Oh the thrilling life of a property magnate.

Don't You Just Hate It When...

2008-11-01T13:56:00.000Z

...you read a book by an author who you've never read before.

You love it.

They have a second book or maybe if you're lucky a back catalogue of books and you want to rush out and buy them all. That first read was so brilliant, so captivating and all consuming, a book the likes of which you haven't read and enjoyed so much in a long time that you want to devour anything else by this writer.

You purchase one, two or more of the other books available and select one to read first. With quivering hands you turn to page 1 and begin with trepidation and lots of expectation.

You finish the first chapter, intrigued enough to continue but if truth be known, you're a little underwhelmed but you persevere. It's going to improve and how could it not if it's written by the writer who was able to produce the other work that you just LOVED!

Chapter 2 turns into 3 and so on until you get a hundred odd pages or so in and realise that it's taking you an awful long time to finish this book. You aren't taking it in your bag to work so you can read it on the train, you reject it as your bedtime reading in favour of the hardback you've been meaning to start or you find yourself flicking through a magazine.

Some time passes.

Eventually you finally admit to yourself that it's just not that good. In your opinion, of course.

Sadly it's not quite your cup of tea but because you so enjoyed the other piece you presumed that anything else would equally as good. More of the same but different. Different but better.

It's sooooo disappointing when this happens but it got me thinking about my own writing. How do writers or even musicians, artists etc. manage to keep working and growing personally and professionally whilst satisfying their audience. It must be tough if you've made a name for yourself as a bonkbuster writer and then you decide you quite fancy writing something completely different.

Possibly it's not even as dramatic as that. Maybe it's just that I fear that I won't want to churn out the same book which is a variation on a theme but am aware that this may then impact on readers.

Oh the things I worry about on chilly London days when I do not have such problems and indeed won't ever be any nearer having these things to worry about until I get on with finishing my rewrite and finally subbing.

Ugly Naked Guy Part 2?

2008-10-31T18:02:00.002Z

Blow me down.

He's only gone and turned the light on again.

I'm all afluster with anticpation that he's about to spring into action in the shower. I'm working late, desperate to get out of here and need to leave asap as I'm looking after the Naughty Nieces tonight and out of the corner of my eye I see that light.

I reckon he's got the shower on and making it get extra steamy before his commences his own particular brand of steamy showering takes place.

He's probably a politician.

Or someone in the public eye who holds a position that is all about upholding the morality.

Each to their own but I wish he'd stop doing this when I've got work to do and need to escape the office!!

Ugly Naked Guy

2008-10-31T11:33:00.004Z

The clocks changed last week. Nothing exciting about this you might remark but let me tell you that strange things happen after nightfall.

Picture this: I'm merrily working away at my desk on the first floor of the West End office I work in, it's 4.30pm and it's already dark outside. I'm pissed off with a colleague when I hear shrieking from a gaggle of girls down the corridor. I don't take much notice and dismiss it as girly highjinks.

5 minutes later I receive a phone call from a friend who works on the floor above me. 'Look out your window.'

'What am I looking at?' I peer out the window and all I see is traffic on the busy main road and the dull mansion block opposite my office building.

'The naked man showering in the apartment block opposite!' screams my colleague down the phone.

I looked more carefully this time. 'Ugly Naked Guy!!!' I shrieked in disbelief.

It was like a scene from Friends except this particular guy was naked but definitely not ugly. He was pretty buff as it happens and, erm, somewhat excited. The window was pretty steamy so whilst we could see his body and his erm, bits that protrude with perfect clarity, we couldn't see his face all that well. Probably just as well because I don't fancy bumping into him when I go out to pick up my lunchtime sarnie.

Word spread like wildfire and it's a wonder that my office block didn't tip over with the weight of everyone on huddled together on one side of the building. There were lots of ladies and gents this side of the road gawping in disbelief at the little performance that he put on for us.

We spectulated as to whether he knew that we were watching and concluded when he waved at us that yes, indeed he did. The lack of blinds and/or shower curtain of some description being the give away there. The man has obviously converted the living room of his mansion block apartment into a shower room (his is probably a wet room though) and is a bit of an exhibitionist.

The question is, has this guy been doing this all along and we didn't notice before because it wasn't dark and none of us was looking?

Urban myth has it that there's a girlfriend who gets in on the act too but you have to come into work early in the morning for that. Don't think I can be arsed. I'm still recovering from the shock of a hunky man putting on his special kind of floor show for the whole of my company.

Need I say that not one jot of work got done for the rest of the day?!

Hips Don't Lie

2008-10-29T13:42:00.004Z

Last night it snowed in London. Brrr!

It's October.

It was the first October snow for over 70 years and inevitably with freak or unexpected weather the whole place goes to pot.

Some poor soul died in an accident on the M40 this morning. The driver was involved in a collision with a lorry that lost its load of lard. Whilst the death is not remotely funny, what did raise a flicker of a smile was the idea of a lorry shedding its load in lard. Don't know why this tickled me, it just did and led me to thinking that...

I wish I could lose my load of lard.

I was at pilates on Monday night and the teacher told us to lie on our backs feet hip width apart. I proceeded to do so but soon she came over to me to readjust my feet placing because apparently my hips aren't a metre wide.

My hip bones that is. Turns out that my hips are in fact quite modest underneath generous layers of insulation.

Insulation or lard it's hard to tell!

Hey ho. Outdoor pursuits that can be done in a London lunch break diminuish somewhat in chilly temperatures like this. Likewise there is litte appeal of plunging into the work pool right now. I did go swimming yesterday but it's going to get harder and harder to do it now that it's so cold. Still at least there are blue skies and beautiful sunshine which makes the colour of the trees even more spectacular.

What would be do if we couldn't talk - and moan - about the weather?

Wobbly Moment

2008-10-16T14:35:00.004+01:00

Barcelona was brilliant. Just love that city - it's completely bonkers! Each time I visit Spain it makes me yearns to live there again. Barcelona is completely different to Madrid where I lived when I was younger but I still think it's a great place.

On a different note, a funny thing happened recently...

I was talking to my mother about my masterpiece and she expressed surprised that I had managed to stick at my writing for this long. She presumed that I would have abandoned this 'hobby' by now.

I was a bit miffed by this.

Let me just say that mother dearest is extremely supportive but she's also a realist and to be fair she has seen me latch on to so many ideas (fashion design) and hobbies (beading, dress-making,, rollerblading, photography among many, many others) whereby I like to buy all the gear, equipment, books etc. and then mere months later tend to grow tired of it all and move onto the next thing. All the crap I enjoyed purchasing at the time subsequently clogs up the spare bedroom so I really was being a bit precious at getting the hump over her surprise.

My writing is different. It's got to be hasn't it? How could I spend nearly three years on various bits of writing and mainly the wip not be serious about it? That's a heck of a lot of social and TV time sacrificed to write.

I'm guilty of giving my very first (i.e. atrocious) draft to my mother and she politely battled her way through the first few chapters of utter dross before I told her to stop as I'd a brainwave which was going to make it the next bestseller and required a dramatic re-write. I suspect that in her mind she's wondering why I'm labouring over something that was so poor.

I've not given her any other drafts to read though will brave it for the next one. I'm sure she's intrigued as to whether there's been any substantial progress since those first few pages she read ages ago (god, I hope so!).

The other problem is that I've taken it almost personally when she's been disparraging of books that I've recommended to her and also thought were very well written. She'd probably hate the novel I'm writing and dismiss it as frothy and girly.

It hit a bit of a nerve.

I want all my nearest and dearest to think that my work is wonderful. Even if I get published the fact is that some people won't like the type of book that I've written and that may well include critics. Arghhhhh!

Clearly I need to grow a thicker skin if I'm to become a writer. Also need to stop worrying about such things and focus more on finishing the wip. Now that's a good place to start!

Viva España

2008-10-07T14:09:00.001+01:00

Am off to Barcelona tomorrow so back next week.

Yipeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Agents - What They Loathe

2008-10-01T15:06:00.005+01:00

Kristin Nelson over at Pub Rants writes about her contribution to a Writers' Digest interview about what agents hate to read in the opening pages of a submission. She linked to this very interesting piece where her pet hate as well as those of other leading US literary agents appears.

Many of the usual suspects are in there such as prologues, info dumping, too much description and backstory, clichés etc. I must ensure that I'm not guilty of any in my writing, however, I've been waylaid this past fortnight in terms of writing. My pen has been replaced by a paintbrush as I finally got the keys to my new pad a week ago and have been cleaning and freshening the place up. I'm getting withdrawal symptoms from the wip though particularly after all the chatting and note swapping that went on at Caroline Smailes' book launch.

Black Boxes

2008-09-30T14:15:00.001+01:00

The launch of Caroline's book Black Boxes was a raging success.

Lots of fun was had by all and there were plenty of Novel Racers in attendance. Liz has some pics on her blog.

I finally got to meet Liz and Juliette and spent time chatting with Leigh, Kate, Cally and Cathy whom I first met at the last Novel Racers' gathering in London.

I also enjoying meeting new people including Jude and Brigid, the former is a Novel Racer alumna who is having a blogging break and the latter is a member of the RNA. I love these sorts of events where you come away more enthused than ever.

Book Launch

2008-09-24T14:00:00.001+01:00

Tonight am off to Borders on Oxford Street for the launch of Caroline Smailes's latest book Black Boxes. Click here for the book trailer.

It will be my very first book launch and I can't wait not least because I finally get to meet Caroline and a few other Novel Racers too.

Caroline is the author of In Search of Adam which is an incredible book, so no doubt Black Boxes will be every bit as powerful.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

2008-09-23T11:20:00.003+01:00

I nearly fell of my chair with laughter when I read this article in the Times Online about the hilarious ideas kids have about where babies come from.

Included are gems like this one from Angus who's 5 years old:

"Babies come from the mummy and daddy. Inside the mummy's tummy, they go zoom - the two things. Whoever wins the race goes wuvavoovavoov, mixed up with the egg and then out pops the baby. Which one won the race? Did I win the race? Do they have eyes? I won't have any children. I don't want to put my willy in that secret hole."

I'm in tears as I type - "They go zoom"?

Little 6 year old Frederica reckons that babies "start like an egg. I'm not sure how the egg gets there to begin with. I think it comes from food. You eat lots of food, very healthy food, and that makes the egg. But you do have to eat very healthy food, even like 18 broccolis a week."

Niece Senior is now a big girl having started school last week, she also turns 5 in December. I wait with baited breath at to what gems she comes out with on this particular topic...