A day in. When I haven't gone out at all, and I've only had a couple of quick phone conversations just rearranging appointments. Bliss. And there's an evening in tonight, so even more bliss. What more could you want?
Really enjoyed seeing Jane W last night, though was rather amused by her parting comments that the day's writing I was planning for today wasn't really like a proper job or hard work or anything. Hey, I wish! In an emotional sense, I imagine it's much like saying to a mountain climber about to tackle a mountain they haven't yet climbed: hey, enjoy the climb, and as you do it for fun then it's no great effort, is it? Ah well.
Not that I've written that much of Hallsfoot's Battle today, but I can see a bit more of the path I'm heading on at the moment and the mists are holding off. I'm at c10,300 words and about to hit a scene of potential danger and excitement. Hurrah! So, I might take a breather to try to summon up the energy for it. Or ferret ahead a little more tonight. We'll see.
I've also finished Liz Young's Asking for Trouble. Oh dear. My advice is: don't. The film based on the novel - "Something Borrowed" - is way better than this feeble chick-lit effort. In the film, the characters were sparky, the humour was top-notch, the romance very moving and the themes surprisingly grown-up. In the book, the characters are dull and ploddy, the humour strained, the romance unbelievable and the themes very childish. It's a constant source of astonishment that such drivel gets published at all, and anyway I'm sure chick-lit used to be better than this. In the days when I read it. Or have I just moved beyond the age of appreciating chick-lit and I now want something darker and punchier for my palate? But that can't be right - whatever my current tastes, the book is still bad! I have a far higher opinion of my reader than Liz Young does for sure. Anyway, I suggest you skip the book and just watch the film - which is something I never thought I'd say.
Meanwhile, back in the vaguely commercial arena (ho ho), it's been over one month since The Gifting began winging its way around all those yummy UK & US fantasy publishers, and the response so far has been .... zilch. I suspect that my agent is either too embarrassed to send it anywhere at all and is simply pretending he has done something with it, or he's too embarrassed to show me the hugely cutting responses begging him never to mention my name again. I'd bet on the second one of these two options, if I were you. Ho hum.
And our flat numbers - plus the mystical arrow - are back on the signs. Gosh! Though the neighbour's son is obviously traumatised by my comments on his grammar and spacing skills as the numbers 1 & 2 are now so far apart as to be almost in another county entirely. I think next time I will simply smile benignly and not indulge in any conversation. Probably the best way.
Today's nice things:
1. Staying in and not really communicating
2. Writing and climbing a bit further up the almost impossible mountain
3. Bitching about published books which are bad, bad, bad!