Some lovely news last night - Diane on Myspace (http://www.myspace.com/detoxnurse) has given me a really nice review of "Pink Champagne and Apple Juice", which I include below:
"A chaotic, whirlwind of a story and I loved it. Uncle John was certainly the Champagne to Angie's apple juice. It was great. So layered and deliciously tangled. I could picture everything, you did such a wonderful job on the characters. I didn't want it to end."
Thanks, Diane - I'm really grateful!
And today, I've received the proof copy of my new poetry collection, "A Stranger's Table", from Poetry Monthly Press (http://www.poetrymonthly.com) - it all looks good to me, with only a couple of things I've asked Martin Holroyd to change. I also love the cover picture he's chosen - a close up of a glass and a slice of lemon, which somehow seems fitting. Anything alcoholic is fine by me. It is strange reading through one's own work though, as it somehow seems to distance me from it in a way which doesn't happen when I'm staring at it on the privacy of paper or screen. Having it printed out and staple-bound, with a back and a front, makes me look like a real poet. Almost. Overall, I think there should be something in there for everyone though - hell, I've got family stuff, sex stuff, religion, humour, murder and lesbianism (courtesy of Kate from "Thorn in the Flesh" - I do love writing poems from the point of view of my characters sometimes. I can't always be myself ...). Oh, and a cat. Or a magical cat rather. But I suggest it probably isn't suitable for the children. Which is true of all of my stuff, to be honest ...
For the rest of today, I've been mooching about doing not very much. Oh, I did rewrite my "Books I Want" list though, as the other one was getting fairly scrappy - it'll mean I can take out a relatively clean sheet of paper in the bookshop when I go shopping with my tokens next week and look less like a bag-lady. But honestly I don't actually feel as improved as I did yesterday, so I might reach for the smelling salts once more fairly soon. Bloody catarrh - it's a nightmare, I can tell you. Mind you, I could snort for Britain, should the competition ever arise. On balance, I really preferred the sneezing of yesterday, but I can quite see that I don't have the choice. Bugger. Back to the Sinutab pills. Still, one thing about being sick though: it's taken my mind off being depressed. I haven't needed to use the SAD light at all. Or maybe I'm just high on Lucozade?
Tonight, I shall finish the cleaning, stare at the newspapers and maybe attempt to do some ironing, but I really don't have the energy to look at the novel at all. I'm beginning to feel incredibly displaced from my own life. I can see that I will have to force myself back to work on Monday, or I may never go out again. At least the streets of Godalming will be safe.
Today's nice things:
1. Diane's generous review
2. Getting the poetry collection proof copy
3. Rewriting my books list.