I’m sorry, God, a slug ate my sermon.
Honestly, it’s true. And if I tell you that said sermon was languishing on the fireplace in my bedroom, you might get some idea of how horrific this incident really was.
A SLUG WAS IN MY BEDROOM!!!! *shudder*
And we’re not talking little wiggly thing, we’re talking big, fat, squidgy disgustingness!
So I’ve really had it with them now. Sliming around the downstairs of the house at three in the morning is one thing, but actually traversing the stairs in search of an alternative menu is quite another. I point-blank refuse to sleep with the slugs!
HELP!!!
Does anyone have any bright ideas as to how to get rid of these disgusting, squidgy pests?
Let’s try that again…
Lots of things have happened since my last post – not least an ontological change (a whatna? I hear you ask… )
But I think I’ve settled into my new life sufficiently to get back to writing which is great. This month I’ve managed to churn out about 20000 words (on top of work stuff), not all of it rubbish. It’s felt great – like I’m getting into the swing of things.
But today is the 1st of September, the month when all the meetings and courses crawl out of the woodwork, and suddenly my diary doesn’t look as happy as it once did. The writing schedule will doubtless get tougher and my temper will get shorter! But I’m still hoping to have a complete draft of Shadow by November – not to mention a workable synopsis by the end of September when I need to send it away to the nice people organising the SCBWI conference in Winchester.
So please send all your spare organisational skills my way – I’m going to need as much as you can spare!
Oh, and here’s a great post on writing a pitch from the lovely Hélène Boudreau, that I’ll definitely be referring to in the next few weeks!
MC Teddy Bear
What do we think of this cheeky chappy? I’m about to start doing assemblies for the local infant school. Of course this would be exciting enough on its own, but think of the associated shopping opportunities! You’re not following the link? Let me explain. When I was a kid most of the vicar’s assemblies were yawn-worthy to say the very least. But there was this one guy who told the most incredible stories about a boy called Jed who basically grew up with you. He was still telling them when I got the high school, by which time Jed had moved on from pinching sweets to doing drugs! I loved his assemblies above all others. So I thought I’d pull a similar trick. The fact that this enables me to flex my plastic is purely incidental. Honest. I thought I’d get myself a bear to dress up and tell stories about. Wha-da-ya think? Isn’t he cute?
Tonight just keeps on getting better…
Had the old bill here this evening. A gang of local youths decided to chuck a brick at my study window which smashed. Thankfully it was one that was double glazed and only one pane broke. But guess what I’ll be doing tomorrow afternoon…
I’ve got to be up in five hours for a prayer breakfast. Who in their right mind would go to a prayer breakfast at seven-thirty on a Saturday morning?! I certainly won’t be in my right mind.
She “danced in heaven, waltzing with the spirits.”
Since I started writing seriously I’ve had help from many published authors who are both encouraging and generous with their time. One of whom was Siobhan Dowd who not only read one of my synopses and told me to keep going, she also was the person who put me in touch with the people whose writing course I’m going on. Considering she didn’t know me from a blood-crazed lunatic, she was extremely kind and was even interested in my day job. In putting together my list of favourite writers I’ve just been to her website to get the address and discovered that she sadly passed away in August. Read the Guardian’s obituary.
Siobhan’s first novel, A Swift Pure Cry, was shortlisted for the Carnegie and if you haven’t read it you really should. It’s a beautiful, sad tale about a girl trying to survive in desperate circumstances and the priest who tries to help her, all be it at the cost of his faith. Her second novel The London Eye Mystery was published in June.
Siobhan’s death is without doubt a great loss to YA writing. But like Shell’s ma’am in A Swift Pure Cry, I can only hope that she’s dancing in heaven, waltzing with the spirits.
Rest in peace, Siobhan.
The Pear Man
I bet you don’t have one of these. Every couple of weeks I get a visit from a man wanting pears out of my garden. Apparently he has a friend who does things with them. Now, there are so many blasted pears in my garden that I would gladly give him as many as he could carry on his rickety girly shopping bike (am I painting a picture here?) But this man has a sense of timing like no one I’ve ever known. There I am, right in the midst of something, I look up from my laptop and see his peak-capped head bobbing up the road towards my house. I hear you shouting – so just give the man some damned pears, woman! Well, today I tried. The pears, however, are about fifteen feet off the ground as the only low-lying branch fell down during a rain storm last month. So no pears for the pear man today.
Anyone else have any pears for the pear man?
The benefits of a Tidy Study
It’s like being given back control of my life. No longer will I have that sinking feeling when I walk through the door. No longer will I live in creative tension with my filing system. I will, I tell you, see the wood for the paper. And that is my pledge. For the moment.
Today I had to ‘preach’ at a school’s Harvest Festival. Not my favourite kind of gig by a long shot, especially as there were parents present. But I think it went OK.
I’m slowly getting to know some of the local kids and they astound me. Maybe it was growing up where I did, but the children here seem so… good. I’m sure their parents wouldn’t agree, but I think they’re amazing. So what happens to turn these charming articulate creatures into the kind of teenagers who think it’s fun to steel bikes and stand them up in the middle of the road in the hope that a car won’t manage to stop in time? How are we failing them?
Answers on a postcard.
On the writing front I’m having ‘issues’ of split loyalty. I don’t know whether to put Whitehart to one side for the time being and work on In the Shadow of the Oak, with a view to releasing the story from its YA constraints. It’s quite an important decision as it determines what I hand over to the tutors of the writing course I’m attending. And that will then determine whether I get help being a better writer of adult fiction or YA. Arghh! I guess I have until the end of the week to decide.
Right, back to work – a welcome meal. I love it when work involves eating food someone else has prepared and drinking wine…
So, I said I wouldn’t do this again…
Having left behind my old blog in a fairly rapture-like fashion, here I am again with a new blog and a new sense of purpose. OK, that may be overstating it slightly. But I’m here so stop bugging me.
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