August pause
August is a funny month, a month when I press pause on normal cerebral activities. Day-to-day scheduling goes out the window, to be resumed in September as friends and family descend and road trips, the beach and lie-ins ensue. The old, grey matter goes into hibernation in favour of holidays and family obligations. In essence, I get dumber. In the City, a mandatory two-week sabbatical (anathema to Americans where the long-weekend reigns supreme) remains firmly entrenched as part of one’s annual holiday entitlement, something I embrace wholeheartedly. Traditionally upon returning from my sojourn tanned, rested and with nothing having occupied my brain but graduating my SPF coverage and a good bodice-ripping, Tudor-era page-turner, I could hardly remember the...
Blame it on the Rain
I’ve read that in order to become a writer you have to both read a lot, and write a lot. For my ones of readers out there you may notice for the latter I’m zero for one on this measure. I realised yesterday playing Disney Aunt to my lovely nieces, (you know, the Big Bus tour, hitting the tourist-riddled highlights of this lovely town of London I call home whilst politely yielding to snap-happy foreigners taking their fiftieth photo of Buckingham Palace), that it had been three long days since my last post. And today makes four! Shameful, really. My sincere apologies to my avid fan(s). On top of this, my aim to be prolific is hamstrung by long summer holidays, endemic of the English independent school system. (Six weeks?? Pah! Try eight!) But I...
Kit Kat Break
I should qualify that though I say I’m writing a novel, the fact is I’ve completed a first draft. Yes, yes, thank you, thank you. But I can’t help but feel that now comes the really hard part. The editing, re-writing and marketing (ahem). Already I’m thinking of plot points that need amending, characters I need to tweak. I guess I could give a part away and note that it’s really two stories in one, part set in modern London during the credit crunch, and part during WWII. So I’m re-working part of the historical fiction element and the problem is then making sure I’m consistent throughout the novel. Forgetting a point made on page 50 that’s relevant to page 250, etc. etc.. I get plot amnesia, not surprising I suppose bearing in mind it has taken me almost two...
Writer’s Narcolepsy
The problem with attempting to keep current on a blog in tandem with a novel is not only do I need to find time write the book, but also schedule the time to write about writing the book. It’s all a bit exhausting, really. Lately, I find I’ve become a victim of what I would classify as literary narcolepsy. It’s not so much writer’s block, (I mean doesn’t one need to write first in order to actually suffer writer’s block? As Dorothy from the eponymous and inimitable Golden Girls rightly suggests to Blanche with her caustic wit, ‘otherwise we all have it?’) as it strikes before I’ve typed a single word, as I sit staring at the last paragraph penned days earlier and struggle the summon the creative juices to further a coherent narrative about May (my protagonist)and...
Into the Blogosphere!
Here I am, my first foray into the vast blogosphere. Setting sail and taking that maiden voyage into the great unknown. Finding my voice, sending a message, getting the word out there and wondering who oh who will ever know or care? That is the question I know, I know, you must be asking yourselves (or not, as the case may be!) does the world really need another blog? I mean who doesn’t have a blog, is more the question. Christ, my hygienist has a blog. Yes, uh huh, all part of her quest to get the world flossing properly. Ok, so this is not true, but you get my gist. So why do I do it? Well, here’s the thing, I want to be a writer… at least… I think I do. Yes, yes ofcourse I do. So I’ve just got to do it, or so says it would seem espouses nearly...
