Most Haunted

The story of my life, at the moment!
The Most Haunted team are in Turin as I type. I love the programme, even though not a lot ever happens apart from the marvellous Yvette Fielding's shrieking. I feel the atmosphere and history has resonance with my latest work, at times.
Tonight, for a minute or so, my TV wouldn't do as it was told - a happening reported by many viewers during the programme. But that was just about it. And it happened here, not there. Shucks!
The programme needs Derek Acorah. He seems authentic, and he and Yvette work well together.
I'll keep watching, though. Just in case something happens. Could be a long wait - if this is really a work of fiction, then the writer is an absolute master of suspense...

Chapter Two

Of course, it had to happen: Chapter Two has been scrapped in its present form.
A wander round Newcastle assisted with a new idea or two, as well as the decision itself. I haven't cracked it - not by any means, but my initial thoughts seem promising.
You know, I thought I knew Newcastle (the scene of my latest work). The place surprised me. I also thought I knew where I was going - perhaps I do, just I still haven't realised it. Important time has elapsed and I've made a mistake; but hopefully I'm in the middle of rectifying it.
Funny, but I'd been carrying an idea that needed a way of introducing into the tale. That walk around Newcastle seems to have provided this way.
I need to go back to the train of thought that brought me the Prologue and Chapter One. They match Chapter Three and the other pieces I've so far written. But not the Chapter Two I came up with.

Critters and Litopia

I have to resist the temptation: Critters has had a makeover. Not only that, but they have two discussion groups - one, a writing only group and, two, an anything goes group.
I can't do it. I just can't. Too much to do.
No reason why you shouldn't go there, though - even if it's only for a quick look. You never know...
As I see it, if you could take the best out of Critters and the best out of Litopia and put them together, you'd just about have the perfect writers website. Andrew Burt and Peter Cox should think about it.
Oh heck, what do I know? Just write, Es.

Today

I'm not sure what today will bring. I know I have to revise my beginning. And the Wizard Of Oz is on TCM at three. Hmmm. I'm going to do what I feel like doing, and see where it leads. I hope that it allows me to think freely and come up with whatever changes are necessary. Some of the writing is good - I won't discard everything. Maybe I won't discard most of it. I just don't know right now. Once I've read it over, I'm going to think, and to read my notes.
Not sure why I feel like this about chapter two. We'll see.

A walk in the park

The South Marine Park, to be more accurate. Sometimes I just have to go for a walk down the sea front, invariably wandering through the South Marine Park first, then along the pier for a while and back through the North Marine Park. As it was raining today, that's what I did. (I like to walk in the rain, as there's nobody else there.) While walking, I spoke to Noel the Ultimate Proofreader on the phone, and discussed a million things such as reading, writing, football, horse racing, my new job and fish and chips in Berwick. The fish and chip supper usually comes after a trip to Lindisfarne. We've decided that we must get to Lindisfarne soon, if only for the fish and chips.

I, personally, need to feel Lindisfarne's icy wind tearing at me before I begin writing again, blowing away the mental cobwebs inside my head. The chances are, though, that we won't go there for at least another month. I will have begun writing again long before then. Not that I ever stop writing - most of it swirls around inside my mind. Just the physical act of writing will begin again soon.

Noel asked me not to be too hard on myself. Ha! I wouldn't be me if I didn't blast myself about something. He's right, of course. Publish or be damned, that seems to be my motto. At the moment, I'm damned. I love the story I'm currently writing. So maybe I shouldn't feel damned at all. I'm fortunate. No doubt about it. My fear is that it never sees the light of day. I will write it all, eventually. One day, the first book will be finished. I know how the story ends, so my writing will be geared to reaching that conclusion. The ending of book one has unanswered questions which lead into book two. Book three is there. I've almost got it.

Soon!

The Art of Zen Buddhism

Now and again I find myself watching a gardening programme. Half-watching, mostly, as I'm not a gardener, and I don't have a garden. Unless it's Monty Don: the David Attenborough of the gardening world. I'm not joking - this is a seriously dedicated and knowledgeable guy. I didn't take too much notice of him, at first, but he seemed to crop up everywhere, until eventually he grew on me. Some of the social projects he has been involved in deserve maximum respect. He comes across as an ok kind of guy. The real thing.
Last night, Monty was in Kyoto, looking at representations of Zen Buddhism in the garden. I know nothing about any of it, but I watched out of curiosity. The best bit was inside some kind of shed, where a stone nestled upon a gravel bed, with rings shaped into the gravel as if emanating from the centre of the stone - like a drop of water falling into water. Or maybe a stone falling into water. Apparently, and this may only have been Monty's interpretation, this piece of still life was meant to capture the idea that even the tiniest action brought about some kind of reaction.
This got me thinking. The idea is connected to movement: action and reaction. The piece of art was still life, in the sense that it just seemed to be a still life of itself, and not connected to movement. I know it's a matter of interpretation, but I found myself wondering why didn't they use water, with drops of water falling into it? Or stones falling into it. I've a feeling it would have been quite a soothing experience if water had been used - more musical, perhaps, and spiritually more quiet than the still life, if not more quiet physically. Reaction, to the action of sound and movement. Close your eyes and you can still picture it and hear it.
Nothing wrong about exploration, or discovery. Nothing at all. But when it falls as flat as that? Hmmm...

The Demon Drink!

Friday night was a good night. Not a great one - there weren't enough of us out to make it that - but I enjoyed it very much. Boy did I suffer for it on Saturday. This has been a bit of a lost weekend, with my mind drifting in and out of a million things. Maybe I needed it mentally, but physically I just can't take too much alcohol these days. And then there was the obligatory curry to follow! I must have drunk gallons of water between then and now.

Submission time awaits: having got the latest Writers' and Artists', I'm about to embark on a journey that might drive me to more of the Demon Drink. Only, I doubt I'd live long enough to see the end of the submission process.

Guess I should just stick to water, and fruit juice. A healthy attitude towards a potentially unhealthy situation!!

Oh, and I've stuck my pic up, having been asked a couple of times for it. Ah, the wonders of mobile phone technology. I'm not one for Facebook 'n' stuff, so it's on here instead.