wurdburd

In fact lets go mad -for soon it’s Christmas. I’ll have a sprout too. Oh and did I tell you I had written a novel?

Is it something you would just drop into conversation? Shall I tell them this year that in fact I have now written two novels? And while I am at it, I’ll dabble with insanity and admit to the series of children’s stories, one of which is currently with a publisher. Okay it may get rejected - but it may not! If so, well, we’ll just send it somewhere else and if not, guess what everyone’s getting from Father Christmas this year!

So the time approaches - will the second novel be written in 2009? November looks to be a crazy month one way or another - still if you want something doing ask a busy person - would it be completely insane? I have the idea ready - oh and there’ll be a big local poetry competition starting soon. Might just go for that too.

You know how people see December as a frantic time of year? forget it, it’s a breeze. Now pass those peas, I’m PRE….paring for NaNoWriMo 09

Writing this huddled on the couch, the warmth from the laptop is of little comfort because it only means that soon I will need to turn off so it can cool off.

In the dark, a rapid risk assessment takes place - which route out of the lounge should I take - direct could mean crossing a minefield, no, really, youngest had to be coaxed away from his battlefield of plastic soldiers to go to bed. He went on the proviso they all got left where strategically placed (for maximum pain to bare feet) ready for tomorrows’ turbulent toy terrors.

Or I could always go round the edge of the room, feeling my way along the dado rail. Slightly less damage to self, only the odd pen lid - or maybe the top of the glue stick. Yes, eldest child has been crafting this evening. With MY craft stuff

A stark contrast to the woman who insisted on driving home from the supermarket with the windows open - and the sunroof too - because she was just too hot. Poor husband sat shivering in the passenger seat, pulling his shirt collar up, shoulders hunched against the cool night air. Meanwhile I am knocking back my chilled orange juice…

Now everyone has gone to bed and I am sat typing alone, I watched a Youtube video with snow in it and finally I am cool again. Happiness reigns - I am used to feeling colder than everyone else.

Reading through the novel while editing - yep I forget to edit and get caught up in the storyline - that’s got to be a good thing right? Until you read a chapter that has taken place in a bar - and the next time you are in the bar upon which the location is loosely based - you order a drink for one of your characters. So embroiled am I in my reading, I then have two options - cancel the drink order - and look a bit daft - or take the order to save face - but then look more than a bit daft when the barman collects glasses from the next table and realises actually the weird woman is on her own. To him, several options arise - a) she is a writer and a bit loopy b) she is a drinker and does not care that the two drinks sat on the table in front of her really should not be mixed, maybe she’s a bit loopy or c) she’s definitely just loopy.

I am tired finally - and cold now, running out of delaying tactics to go up to the cold bedroom and fight for the duvet - number three child has a tendency to join us, but likes to sleep on top of the duvet in the general shape of a starfish.

okay, here goes -dodging the ‘naughty army men’ (oh the wisdom of a 6 year old) ouch! a rifle between the toes - is this a war wound?

And mine is out tonight!

Its quarter past one in the morning and here I am writing a blog update! Don’t the oddest things go through your head late at night - especially when your brain is wide awake and you need to be sleeping. I blame it on Phil Collins and the rest of Genesis. I needed something to listen to before going to bed so I chose a track from the album ‘Trick Of the Tail’ called Entangled. Always worked when I was little, so why not now?

Because now I can write! Back then, I had the imagination but the writing needed a bit of working on, and the spelling too! Now I have the problem that I want to hear the next track - Squonk used to make me really sad -

Meanwhile I am still writing because I had a flash of inspiration for tying up loose ends - or maybe that should be laces, given the name of the book? Did you know the ends of laces were called Aglets? I didn’t - hadn’t given it a lot of thought until I watched a kids cartoon, Phineas and Ferb I believe. A whole ten minutes about shoelaces. no wonder kids turn out like they do! I blame the parents……that’ll be me then

So here we are, words running from my brain through my fingers onto the keyboard and onto your screens - many midnight meanderings mostly mumbo jumbo, I suspect. Still I respect my imagination - someone has to- so I will just let it flow until it stops, or calms into a manageable dribble.

This urmmm (what should I call it) talent? ability? to give freedom to what is going on upstairs at Chez Wurdburd - is it good for me, but maybe not so good for others - mind you there are some kind people who return to see what the mad woman has written today. Or do you come back to reassure yourselves of your own sanity?

I might be out with my timing, inspiration wise, but Genesis got it right, thanks Dad, this is down to you!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8z1kLUP3ohg&NR=1

Sorry - that sounded a bit brutal for a Sunday evening, didn’t it? I have had a right old mix this weekend, from news that my cousin is getting married - to my aunt being in hospital. Oh and a lovely call from a lovely lady in Canada! Great to hear from you, Karla.

Some of us like action, thrillers, murder, suspense, others want to escape into a world with greener grass that doesn’t require cutting unless you have a gorgeous gardener to do it for you. The shelves in the stores are lined with books full of characters who can make you laugh, cry, jump for joy, reach for the shotgun or a bottle of wine.

On the other hand, you could curl up in a huge chair with arms that seem to wrap around you and hold you tight in a reassuring cuddle. Outside, the rain beats against the window, and the thunder claps an applause at the streak of lightning that now provides your last glimpse of light as the power cuts out.

As a writer the best thing you can do is visualise your book up there in among the favourites, a form of affirmation that you WILL get there, your story is one that will be wanted, again and again, and those lovely readers will want more of what you can do Bringing characters to life and put them through their paces - character boot camp - what would YOU do? Did they do what YOU did in a situation you have found yourself in?

As a reader, do you await anxiously the next bestseller by your favourite author, or give another author a go in the meantime? After all, who knows where they will take you with a turn of the first page? A slow burner or can’t put it down, sorry kids McDonalds for tea again, and can you just wear that shirt one more day, if you wear a sweater nobody will see the mark.

Whatever you want, I can only hope you like my writing and give me a go. Josie Bee - The Truth About Shoes - coming to a shelf near you………..

Are they all they are cracked up to be?

The time is coming closer to say goodbye to my family of characters - set them loose in the mercenary world of the reader? Will their stories be followed to the end, and what sort of ed will it be? Will they get their ‘just desserts’ - will justice be served? Who will end up with who? Will anyone care who ends up with who?

You know perhaps by now, I am at editing point with my first novel. So how best to approach it? Let go and put to rest, at least for a while.

Something we all do - some of us intentionally - is state the obvious. But in all honesty can you say you have never done it? I can’t. So I will say this. You’ve got to come away to go back. You can only appreciate something by stepping away and breathing independently for a while. So how long is a while? How long is a piece of string?

Before I get off at the next stop in central cliche city, the advice when you have a written piece of work, novel, flash fiction or poem is to step back and go back to it with fresh eyes. The same advice can be applied to many a situation also - be it real or fictitious.

There’s this crazy idea that when you go back and look again, you will see where the changes are needed, make them and it’s happy ever after. Second draft heaven….

So I want to look into this Happy ending idea. Is it really what we are all striving for? Even Disney is disgruntled with the idea - after all even Cinderella has another film about what happened afterwards. I haven’t seen it, but it probably ends much in the same vein, maybe with a couple of princes and princesses, playing happily in the castle grounds, knights in shining armour standing discreetly on guard nearby

When you read a novel, do you want it to end happily ever after? do you want to know that these characters you have come to know are going to be okay? Then we can put the book down, start another. Or do you want to be left wondering, just a little bit, about what their future holds?

Do you want to see the present or another layer of wrapping paper?

To be jolly? Well I think so. My season anyway. Is it Winter. Christmas - you know the big guy giving out the gifts, loads of booze, buying the bird that may well feed the army but won’t fit in the oven, paper hats and dodgy jokes in crackers that don’t bang.
No I am pretty sure it isn’t Christmas, though shops are making way for the trees and tinsel. Anything for a bit of sparkle. And chocolate.

Spring? No, the idea of hosts of golden daffodils may well delight lots of folk - what a great time of year - all those new beginnings, eggs hatching etc. Clakes made up of all your leftovers as we bet we can give something up for six weeks. Mother’s Day? That’s a good reason to celebrate (says she, mum of three) Flowers….and chocolate

Summer then? Long hot days lazing in the garden, chats with friends over a bottle of chilled white, barbecue hissing and spitting, paddling pools. The distant buzz of a bee, laughter of children firing water pistols at each other. Vacations, packing, last minute getaways, where’s the passports? Leaving at silly times of the night to get to the Check In desk first. The sea, splashing on the shore, collecting shells, ice-creams - everything melting into a bit of a mush. Especially the chocolate…

No the season to be jolly for me has to be Autumn - the fall. What amazing sights to see, trees in their shrouds of the brightest vermilion, rusty orange, cool crisp mornings, the beginning of the new term, a white school shirt on the first day - polished black shoes, the anticipation and apprehension, learning new things.Nights getting darker, slow cooking roast dinners, searching out those warm sweaters, - and finding another because your Dad won’t put the heating on yet. Kicking through the piles of leaves, bonfire flames dancing into the twilight, searching out gloves and scarves, blowing on hands and rubbing them together.

But the very best thing about this time of year? and why I set my novel in the cooler months? It can be just what it wants to be and we accept it and are pleased. Its warm and we think we are cheating the seasons and squeezing a bit more summer in, it’s cool and well, that’s what we expect anyway. Its cold, and we are happy with that because it means Christmas is on the way, parties, Santa, trees, sparkle and big snuggly jumpers. With a big steaming mug of ….hot chocolate

Anyone to join me?

So my first day in seven weeks - husband at work, kids at school. Walking around the house and view the bedlam created by preparations for the first day of the new term, tripping over the handle of the bag that my eldest just had to have - but left at home…

The snacks remain untouched in the cupboard, in the fridge, the milk carton, full and forlorn. Crisp packets, unopened, but definitely not full…You get less but pay more. What’s wrong with this picture? It’s too quiet, needs brightening up, bringing to life

We used to do comprehension at school when I was my kids’ age, reading a load of words and answering questions on it. Often very dull, with only a couple of bright spots. That’s just how it was. We didn’t know any different

Now they give out comprehension for punishment, says it all really doesn’t it? Don’t you - or shouldn’t you - aspire to have more of the bright spots, characters that jump off the pages and bring you into their world through a pattern of trials and tribularities recognisable to all of us at some point in our lives.

Of course, we do need to have these quieter moments, breathing space. After all for how many of us does life gallop along at such a fair old pace - without a period of monotony to temper it down?

And talking of temper - best to aim for earlier nights all round, now we have a house full of homework books, history projects and spelling tests once more. Its way too quiet in here, pump up the volume!

Rightly or wrongly I have set myself a deadline on 18th September to have this done - and edited (by me)

So kids go back to school on the 8th. Its now the 7th, so today - in a few hours when I have had a bit of sleep, a long day of writing, reading and searching for a beta reader begins. Everyone is so busy, and I am very impatient…you know that child who opens their presents at four in the morning, reading a book under the bedcovers with a three colour ‘traffic light’ torch - well I might just turn on the lamp now, but the book could still be an Enid Blyton favourite…or Jill Mansell, Sheila O’Flanagan, Catharine Alliott, Katie Fforde - or JosieBee. I’ve heard she could well have a promising career ahead of her.

To test the water with my children’s stories, one has been with a publisher for just over a week now..they say up to 12 weeks to let you know. Blimey this is worse than being pregnant - all the pain, but no scans along the way to let you know all is going well. And definitely the unexpected outcome…though after three little sproglets, I should be used to expecting the unexpected. Thankfully no more stretchmarks. Can’t really comment on the cravings though. I love Cadbury Wispas
but am glad they waited to relaunch after i had had the kids or they might have been born covered in milk chocolate and full of little bubbles and wearing a purple sleepsuit

Meanwhile back to that deadline. See you later !

So it’s late and I decided that I could do with working on the novel a bit more. Yes, the time according to Accurist - or Sky tv anyway - is currently 00:55.

Still, it won’t sort itself out. I wanted to polish up a drunken encounter, the sort that ends in making a lunge at someone that maybe wasn’t quite so wise. So there I am with a description - showing, not telling - obviously - and I ask my dear husband if I have got the right word to describe strong upper limbs. Dutifully, all thanks to him, he looks it up and my strong upper limbs are really Celtic armpits. Maybe they were strong, but would that not put you off rather than fill you with lust?

So there she is, my lady, doing the ‘oh my you are so tall and masterful’ whole Mills and Boon bit, but now I need another line to follow because you can’t have her wondering about making soup from triceps and biceps - no matter how drunk she is. It’s wrong on too many levels…..

The lesson for today - oxters are defined as armpits, and soup is from oxtails anyway.

Wurdburds final thought? Please drink responsibly, and if you do find a recipe for triceps and biceps, leave it well alone…

A really productive morning - adding in some much needed detail to the last part of the story, and I see it’s coming together nicely though still some way to go, I feel. So, feeling generous of spirit, and kindness to all children (well, mine anyway) I took them to lunch then to buy school supplies and uniform. Three pairs of shoes, socks, cardigans, trousers, pe kit.

Oh dear, its half past three and I need a glass of wine. Still feeling slightly virtuous, we got new pj’s, slippers. Thus taking away obstacles to the bedtime battles. You know the sort, its bedtime and I don’t have a thing to wear, I can’t possibly go to bed in this old thing..

If only that were the only elliminating…..Still, I guess the purse is lighter now……
So tomorrow? one pair of trainers left and a school cardigan…..

But on the upside? I have regained my direction and the end is nye!!