The weather is foul. Sunday started on a blast, continues on a blast, rattling everything around me. Last week, I sent a story off and expect it will return. But, must pull myself out of this lethargy which all stems from the fact that I've got Xmas cards to write. This not not a favourite time of year. Once expectations were high but, growing older, those expectations sink into a mire of expense, false bonhommie, and COOKING. Forgive me dear Blog, it's one of those days.

Two conversations with The Girl this week reminded me of how Time is a concept with completely different meanings for writers, on the one hand, and agents/editors on the other.

1. Time According to Agents and Editors

The Girl: Mum, when can I have my ears pierced?
Me: When you're 14.
The Girl: But Mia has her ears pierced and she's only four and I'm three and three-quarters.
Me: That's up to Mia's mummy. But you can have them done at 14.
The Girl: But I want to have earrings when I'm still at school.
Me: You'll still be at school when you're 14.
The Girl: (wide-eyed) Really??
Me: Of course.
The Girl: Hooray! OK, Mum, I'll wait till I'm 14! (Skips off happily as if she thinks a decade will pass in the blink of her big blue eyes...)

2. Time According to Writers

The Girl: Can you read me this book, Mum?
Me: Sure, just as soon as I've finished this sentence.
The Girl: How long?
Me: Five minutes.
The Girl: Is it five minutes yet?
Me: No, that was about five seconds. Go and play for five minutes, I'll call you when I'm ready.
The Girl: I'll wait here. (Leans on my arm as I type; puts face very close to mine and stares intently.) Is it five minutes yet?
Me: No, it's not even one minute. Go in the wendy house until I call you.
The Girl: No.
Me: Well wait then. You've got four more minutes.
...
The Girl: Is it four minutes yet?
Me: NO! Oh please just let me finish. I will read you that book and any other books you like if you just give me a few minutes peace.
The Girl: What's a few?
Me: Four.
The Girl: But it's already been four.
Me: AAARGGGHHHH. OK, give me the book.
The Girl: Thanks, Mum!


This post is dedicated to any writers out there who are waiting, and respectfully to any agents or editors who are currently in the process of putting us (and hundreds like us) out of our misery.

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The delightful Jilly Weekes has made my day twice by posting two reviews of A Dangerous Man. One is on Amazon, as below:

“As another reviewer has mentioned, this is a very unsettling book. Michael is enthralled by his art. He had an abusive upbringing and is constantly trying to escape from it. A tragic figure, it soon becomes clear that he is unable to escape from his own history however far he moves away from it. Michael is also gay and seems drawn to the type of relationships which can only damage him further. Then he falls in love with Jack - a business tycoon - who adores him too and is willing to encourage his art and help him to overcome his past. Michael is unable to recognise Jack's love and tenderness for him as genuine and ultimately betrays him because he knows no other way of relating ...

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Honestly. Today. My back feels as if I've had a wire coat-hanger placed just beneath the skin and some bugger is twanging on it until I'm so hyper that I just can't think. I've struggled with the writing today (but whether that's a cause or a result, I simply don't know) and am feeling hugely unconfident. God, it's not going anywhere and no matter how hard I pedal, the damn bike is slipping down the hill. No, more of a ruddy mountain than a hill ...

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So of course I can't stop thinking about the new novel. No, not A Secret Alchemy, the next one. Yes, I know, but nature abhors a vacuum, after all, and the vacuum of the book-shaped, struggle-shaped hole in my mind now is more than my nature can stand. Besides, it's fun, this stage. Undemanding, in a way: it's like having a big pot on the back burner, and tossing in anything that seems like a good idea. Other times, it feels more like lying on my tummy on the bank of a stream, holding a stick in the water, or shifting the stones about, and seeing what different eddies and ripples and waves I cause in the endless flow. Either way there's a childish, holidayish pleasure about it, a waking-up-on-a summer's-day openness: what shall we do today?

But not just yet.

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Up at 6am today (arrgghh!) in order to be ready for Irene to pick me up on the way to the Cranleigh Fete. Which in literary and meteorological ways was unfortunately something of a wash-out. We tried - and failed - to sell any Goldenford books, but we did fairly well with Irene's collection of collectable crockery and Thai teak powder iguanas. Which are fabulous, I must say, and a snip at £15 a piece. The woman who bought it was so keen she didn't even barter. Goodness me indeed ...

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I am delighted - and exhausted - to announce that The Short Review Issue 2 is now available. 10 reviews, - two by WW members Tiger_Bright and SharaS - great reads, do stop by and sign up for the newsletter.

Thanks!

Tania

I am delighted to announce, as they say, that the novel formerly known as The New Novel, My Current Novel, The Work-in-Progress, The Beast or, on a really bad day, This Bloody Novel, has finally been christened. On Monday we settled on A Secret Alchemy, and today I delivered the final draft to my editor. I've been rolling the title round my tongue ever since and it just gets better and better. But after all the fretting and brain-storming and digging in books, I'm thinking, 'Of course. That was always what it should have been called. Why on earth didn't we think of it before?'

I suspect it's the sign of having found the right title: the feeling that it's been there all along. It's almost like a mini-version of the sense that many (most?) writers have: that the book exists, and all you have to do is chip away - or struggle through the fog - until you can see it.

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Dark rain clouds over the south today, m’dears. Plus lots of rain. Darnit. And I’ve planned to walk into town at lunch today to get a few bits and pieces, so I’d better dress up warm and not forget the brolly. UPDATE: actually it wasn’t raining and I had a nice, if brief, chat with one of the old Guildford Writers bunch whom I hadn’t seen for a long time. So that was great. I also bought the “Getting in Touch with your Inner Bitch” block calendar, as I thought the office would appreciate it. I was right … I particularly like the look of the “Niceness Detox Tips”, one of which is: Start a revolution in your life. Say “I don’t think so” at least once today. Fabulous! I hope to put it all into practice next year ...

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I think I can now say that I'm happy with my new website. It's live and it's launched and, as far as I can tell, it's up to date. (I still can't get the old one to delete though, grumble, grumble.) Feel free to have a nosy and to tell me what you think. I especially like the new shop page because it gives people the opportunity to order signed, personalised copies of my book at no extra charge.

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