4000 Holes In...

Have you you seen that new contraption invented in Japan? The yellow ball that you are supposed to climb into if another flood comes along? It comes with built-in holes and costs £2400 each!! Built-in holes!!??? So it's not just our guys who study how much milk it takes before cornflakes get soggy lol Still, it's true what they say: you can't take your money with you when you die - not if you spend it on stuff like that! I'd love one, though, to roll downhill to work... ;-)

The Bells

I went off to Newcastle, first to visit Noel the Ultimate Proofreader and his lovely wife, Chris, for coffee; then to look for a new winter coat.
At Noel's, I was served soup and then strawberries n cream - and coffee, of course. Marvellous, though I could only stay an hour. Such great company and I'll be heading back there next week for a longer stay. I hope there'll be strawberries n cream again!
Off I went to look at coats. A simple task, one would think, with a million shops to choose from. Not so - jeez, they don't half sell a load of rubbish when it comes to coats. In the end, I gave up, deciding to just go and buy one in Shields when it became too cold not to have one. That'll be next week, probably lol
It was about then that I recognised the sound of church bells ringing from the Church of John The Baptist at the bottom end of Grainger Street. I couldn't resist and went through the gate and into the grounds. The sound of the bells was amazing and I rang Noel so he could hear what I was hearing. The churchyard is the scene of an important part of my new story. I felt like I was being heralded for being there. I began to record the sound of the bells. For about 15 minutes I held my phone to the clock tower while the chiming went on. I couldn't stay much longer, though, and I thought about keeping the recording going only as long as a fade-out into the traffic of noise as I walked away. Two steps out of the church gate and the bells immediately ceased. Ha! That was a spooky moment in the dark of the night. I felt I was being told, in no uncertain terms, that the peal of the bells was only for me! I mean, why did they chime as I approached the church, then stop abruptly the moment I left? To attract me? Persuade me to pay a visit? Then to inform me that they had chimed only for me as I was leaving? A shivery thought! A lovely one, too.
I noticed there were only three flowers left on the lawn as the dusk drew in. There are three people in the story associated with the churchyard...
I've got the recording on my new phone, which uses bluetooth to transfer files to computers. I have to investigate how to do that now. I'm sure it's simple enough, though I'm preparing myself for the usual idiotic error messages...
A day to remember x

To do, or not to do

Well, it's Saturday and the first day of my two weeks off. Just as I was about to go out, I discovered that a Fred Astaire film was starting: The Gay Divorcee!  I ask you, what a name. Of course, it meant something different then, so don't let it put you off!  Fred's version of Night And Day is not that great, but it was the dancing with Ginger that I was looking forward to. It never disappoints, though I sometimes wonder what it would have been like with Eleanor Powell, instead. There's a dancer! Still, Ginge could cut it, so why ...  but that's me, always wondering.
And so, from Monday, I will be writing like crazy for two weeks - or should that be: writing like a crazy man? Because that's how I feel. I've not been the the most clear-thinking of writers, lately. It's probably to do with my notes: some of them are unclear. Some of them don't go far enough, and some of them just aren't there! It'll be fun, though, which is how it should be.
The engine's running ;-)

It's not all bad

The brilliant Noel the Ultimate Proofreader and I headed off to Lindisfarne, or Holy Island as it's also called. Noel's wife Chris couldn't come, which is just as well as we probably would have had to carry her up some of the dunes. I swear someone's changed the layout. Jeez, it was climb every mountain the closer we got to the beach. I fell, Noel fell; he fell again, I fell again. Even the Vikings would have given up their invasions the way things are now. We were shattered by the time we got to the shore, accompanied by the sound of seals 'laughing' at us from the water. Same to you lads - I bet our fish n chips in Berwick tasted a lot better than your raw fish a la Gollum lol
Still, it was windy enough to blow the cobwebs from my head and I began to feel a bit better about my latest work. And I also needed some space, and a chat with Noel, once I'd rediscovered that my writing heroes (Tolkien/Dickens/Koontz/Banks to name a few) did the same things I did. Or was I doing the same as them??? Well, they came before me, so I guess I must be just a copycat. ;-)
All in all, it was a great day. A step forward mentally, and the company and conversation was great. Positive...

Editing

I'm breaking rules.
I'm breaking POV rules. Breaking 'interest' rules. I'm boring the ass out of everyone because I'm looking at the things from the wrong angle. Sometimes, that is, but that's all it takes. Sometimes is too many times.
You know, I've never sent or presented anyone loose work. I'm not a rough writer. Yet I'm so proud of this new story, I believe I can show any one of my readers an unedited chapter and it will stand up to scrutiny. Totally forgetting it has never worked for me, and never will. No matter how good I think it to be, this story won't be going anywhere in a hurry unless I edit it first. And by 'edit', I mean rewrite. I've always written stuff loose. But then, when I need someone to look at it properly, I give it the works.
The only chapter that has had the works is the first chapter. And it's the only one that works from start to finish. It took a blast from Solvey before I galvanised myself properly to write it the right way. After that, Solvey said it was 'focused'; Noel said it was 'self-contained'; Becca said it was 'uncluttered'. A result!
The rest must be done the same way.
Note to myself: without the need for prompting...

Curious tale of the exploding spud!

Just me being careless; I stuck a couple of large spuds in the oven, totally forgetting to prick them to let the air out. The inevitable happened: one of them exploded when I opened the oven door!
Careless.
Which has also been the case with my writing, lately. Everything has been askew, not gelling, not exciting. As messy as my spuds on opening the oven door.
I haven't been concentrating, lately. I've been wondering why. Hmm, I'm only at my best when writing the real thing, and not the notes. I've come to understand, from the crits I've received from everybody (not least the amazing Solvey) that my notes and structure/plot writing carry little interest beyond the thought that this could be a good story. If only there weren't as many mistakes.
And that's the truth. Unless I'm writing as though my life depends on it, I'm not going to write anything that's gonna affect anyone else's life, either.
Half a thought produces half a story. Half-hearted. Half of nothing much produces nothing.
I'd better shape up, otherwise I'll lose big style... lose everything I've been working on...
To quote Elvis: A whole mess of blues!

Capturing the gloom

I'm probably gong to be in Newcastle for a short while tomorrow. And, while there, I'll visit the place that is the focal point of a good part of the story. The gravestone there is wearing now, a lot more than I feel it should. In the story, it is well looked after. But that is not the case right now. You can barely read the inscriptions on the top, though the side, naturally, is a lot better. One day, I hope, all will be revealed to the world. Until then, we're just dreamers...

Harper's Bizarre

I was in the Dolly Peel the other day, having a drink or two with a couple of friends. Like me, Trevor the manager is a Man United fan, and soon the conversation got around to new signings, leavers and the new season. Posh and Becks' new arrival also entered the discussions: Harper Seven is the little girl's name. Of course, we went around the houses, trying to work out which way and what, but in the end Trevor summed it up best:  "I suppose it's better than 'Quarter To Eight!' "
Brought the house down, I can tell you!

Suit hunting

I'll be looking at new suits, soon, as a good friend of mine is getting married on the 30th. I guess I should have been married twice, but both times the relationship fizzled out. Still, it leaves me free to make the mistake once lol I'll have moved house and written a lot of stuff by then. Hopefully, this will be a more permanent move and one which allows me to write with more freedom in my head.
I like weddings. It means there's love in the air and happiness, too. Can't have enough of that!

The Big Push

No, I haven't left work again! The urge to write is taking me over. I'm looking at stuff and seeing how it feels. Over the next two weeks, and into the two weeks off I've got coming up, I'll be exploring more of this new world I've created.
It's not the writing of it that bothers me, it's the storyline. I need to make sure the story is interesting enough and asks big questions of the hero and his friends. The reader has got to want to know more and to keep turning the page. Each chapter ending must entice the reader into the next chapter. I mustn't disappoint.
I like the title of the third book, and its BIG IDEA makes me believe there might even be a fourth. Hmmm, gotta stop getting ahead of myself. But at least all this means I'm full of ideas at this moment. A good feeling to have!

Mobile Homes

Noel the Ultimate Proofreader has got a new mobile phone. He tested it out on me today. One day, a thought will throw up a screen and your intended convo partner will appear in front of you like magic. A hologram, perhaps.
mY aNDY wARTHOL mOMENT lOL

Litopian Dream and Echoes of The Past

Just read Dave Pimm's (Solveig Anderson) latest post on his blog.
You know, when I first joined Litopia, I thought I knew a lot. I did know some things, but there were other things I didn't know about. Solvey says he's indebted to Peter Cox, and I can echo that. Things like going with your gut feeling (which I can say I did, but was never sure if I was right to) and planning - something which I never did, except for a flurry of notes before writing my next chapter. I don't do anything without planning now. My writing now is a positive testament to that, but getting published is another matter.
Let me just say, however, with a great deal of remorse and regret, that my exit from Litopia was rather spectacular, when I championed another member's complaint, which escalated into a rather unseemly argument with me refusing to back down over the level and number of critiques passing as reviews of members' work. The site is now doing what it should have been doing, I believe, but that's not even remotely down to me: more down to the law of supply and demand being allowed to work more naturally. When I think of past disagreements now, and there have been a few, I cringe! I've been part of a few workshops/forums, and not just online but non-internet places. I've helped a lot of people and they've helped me. I've written a full length story and lots of short stories as well as poems, so I have more than paid my dues with respect to 'becoming' a writer. My thoughts were, and are, valid. But I could feel Litopia was going downhill, and after all the hard work done in getting Litopia more active, I wasn't going to stand idle as the site slowly became passive again. Which it was. The success of the site came after I left. I was a lowly chargehand there, so I'm claiming nothing other than 'I told you so'. But I loved the place and still refer people to Litopia when they say they want to learn more about writing. I refer them to Critters, too, as both places have lots to offer.
But I'm not a stranger to arguments online - some things only happen after the air has been cleared - but I've always maintained that I'm brave, perhaps not reticent or politically expedient. The quote 'discretion is the better part of valour' will never apply to me, thank god! Solvey and Richard Howse remain friends from my days at Litopia, something which I class as the most important thing that has happened after my days there.
But here's a curiosity: solvey mentioned The Lord Of The Rings. I did a huge amount of research involving future readers of a similarly-written fantasy. The fantasy wot I wrote! The overwhelming conclusion I reached was that readers wanted a new Tolkien. No matter which way I looked at the answers people gave - the vast majority complained about the lack of Tolkienesque writing. They wanted more, and he was dead.
Now, I can be accused of being a Tolkien copycat. I actually was accused and I blasted back in no uncertain terms. But there was a reason for writing in the manner I chose: history.
Consider these: Ivanhoe, Great Expectations, The Lord Of The Rings. All written in a similar way, modified naturally by the times in which they were written. But, to me, all three could have been written by the same writer.
So what is wrong with writing like Tolkien? He wrote like Dickens, who wrote like Sir Walter Scott. A rhetorical question, as there is no answer that maybe makes sense. Millions of readers can't find the new Tolkien/Dickens/Scott, because he/she won't be published in the modern day. Unless the story fits the picture of this modern time. It comes back to my initial, and still only, reason that makes sense to me: the story that links the chain of these three greats must be a great one. A modern one. It hasn't happened yet. The story, that is. The story, the story, the story. With great people in it. I am trying to write it. Early indications from my wonderful readers are that I'm not far off - I think...
Now, what I'm rambling on about is this: what if The Lord Of The Rings is echoed in solvey's Margrave series. And Dickens' characters came alive there, and Ivanhoe rode through it. Could this be allowed? Tell you what, they wouldn't half sell!!!! (Erm, they already do Ed.)
Good cider, this Stella Artois...