Golf and the struggling writer

A bit of a non-day really. Is it just me who gets these sometimes?? Nothing much of any great excitement has happened, and I haven't had any great moments of inspiration. Neither is there any chocolate in the house to console myself with, dammit. Well, not that I can actually eat it anyway - we're saving the last of the anniversary Thornton's chocolate champers bottle till tonight. Well, it's Friday, innit?

However, the good news is that I do feel slightly better. Well enough anyway to go shopping in Godalming this morning and find out that they seem to have discontinued not one but two shampoos I regularly use. Two! I ask you! Deep, deep sigh ... I begin to suspect that it's a government plot to slowly take away every product I have ever found that I actually like so that eventually I won't exist at all as there'll be nothing for me to buy. (Cue: I'm not paranoid; it's just that everyone's against me ...). Anyway, I didn't have the psychic energy to make a fuss or chain myself to the shampoo factory railings, so I just bought another version and will hope for the best.

I've also been golfing. Or rather: almost golfing. It took me a while to get going this morning, I have to say. Though I did make a reasonable finish and honour was satisfied in the approach to the clubhouse again. Marian and I were also much amused by the single gent who began heading off to the first tee at about the same time as us, and asked us if we were happy for him to start first as he didn't want to hold us up. Well, slap my thighs and call me a mongoose, but we were still floundering about in the rough on the first as he was about to sink his putt on the third - so no holding up problems there, guv'nor! These men - they're always going to be quicker than a woman (steady, people, steady ...) up the fairway. Hmm, I'm not so sure the end of that sentence makes things any better really ...! Ah well.

This afternoon, I have been dragging out words for The Bones of Summer with the aid of a pair of tweezers and a fragment of wire. Lordy, but sometimes those damn words are so shy it's like trying to find a wren in a forest. A very small wren. In a very large forest. At night too. And even when you do find it, the damn thing isn't a wren at all but a cockroach. Hell, I must stop this analogy, as it's exhausting me, dahlings, but it's simply how it's been today. Sigh.

Tonight, I plan to do some more snorting (the Lemsip takes a while to work, and it's good to have a hobby), drink lots of wine and watch TV until the aerial takes root in my own head. Well, it's where I get all my ideas from, and I certainly need some now for the ruddy novel!

Oh, and there is some nice news: John is posting me my advance cheque for Maloney's Law which, after bank fees and agency cut etc etc, will be £78. Or thereabouts. So I will spend it wildly and with conviction. Whilst keeping the day job, eh! Oh, and John is also starting the edit of The Gifting, and says he's enjoying it, so that's a relief. And yes I know it's his job to say he's enjoying it but, being a writer, I still need the positive stroking for my insecure artistic soul (ho ho). And yes, I do keep reading the email in which he tells me so - I know I am sad.

And Jools from Mighty Erudite Publishers has now received my comments on Mark Wagstaff's novel. Phew! And she's planning to take me out to lunch after my holiday in October to discuss the next things on the agenda. Hell, that makes me feel almost important. Perhaps I shall buy a new frock (or part of a new frock) with my advance cheque for the occasion?... It's a plan for sure.

Today's nice things:

1. Golf (eventually)
2. Writing (after I'd stopped it!)
3. Wine (when I've opened the bottle ...)

Anne Brooke
Anne's website