Yes, I am blogging once more!

However, to increase my motivation, I've made the move to Blogger which is much swankier and more exciting!

So, please bugger off to the new inconsequential musings of a duckling.

Current Mood: happy

P.S. Stay tuned, I might even post something soon!!! Betcha can't wait... :-)

Current Mood: cheerful

I have spent approximately five minutes this week thinking about this blog, thinking how I must post something soon... It was my 27th birthday yesterday - a slightly traumatic number, 27, I feel - and I was sure I'd find half an hour spare to write something pithy and interesting about the experience of reaching an age I'd never considered before but um, I didn't.

I *really* don't want to give up the blog but work's manic as usual, my second book is taking up every spare second of free-thinking time and there have been some interesting developments with regards to my first book. So basically the blog has fallen off the radar. And I'm thinking maybe it's best to quit while I'm behind.

There are so many blogs out there. Many of my witty, erudite writer friends have blogs and they beat this rather pathetic effort hands down. I can't keep up. I'm exhausted and creatively deficient.

I'm not going to shut it down completely because maybe sometime soon (before I retire) an idea for a post will hit me and the words will flow out like water from a fountain. Maybe. But this post is just to announce that I'm going to give it a break for a while, and to say I hope you're not all too devastated (ahem, ha ha).

I will be back, I promise. And in the meantime, please let me recommend two of my favourite blogs: the wise and wonderful Myrtle's - a touching and hilarious read; and the hugely talented Mock Duck's - the blog that inspired me to start blogging in the first place.

Hasta la vista!

Current Mood: busy

I've spent ages trying to embed this but alas, LiveJournal won't let me.

So instead, please click here for a Christmas dance from me and my mates Mev and Susan!

Teehee.

Current Mood: amused

What makes people want to write?

I don't know, and I've been doing a bit of Googling tonight to try and find out with no particular success. I always wanted to write, for as long as I can remember. When I was about five and my sister was just a baby, I tried to put together a picture book for her, a la Spot the Dog. It was about a sheep. I can't remember his name. I drew the pictures, wrote the words, stuck the pages to cardboard and tried to assemble it into some sort of book-shaped object. As far as I can recall, she tried to eat it. But Soph never was much of reader... ;)

I know more writers now than I have ever done. And I have been so surprised and so impressed by each and every one of them. There are so many skills you need to possess to write. Not just the basics - a sound grasp of grammar, a wide vocabulary, a love of literature and a powerful imagination. You also need to be incredibly empathetic. We're all sensitive souls, I've found. I know that in comparison to many of my esteemed author friends, I'm just an amateur, but I've noticed this sensitivity is something that each of us possess. Not insecurity, necessarily. Just an awareness of everything and everyone around you. A natural curiosity but also a natural understanding of other people's feelings and motivations. I think this is critical: to really write a character authentically, you need to be able to get inside his/her head and think like him, even if he's a seventy-year-old grandfather and you're a twenty-year-old girl.

I wonder if this sensitivity develops as a child as a response to a difficult upbringing. I don't know - it's just me ruminating on pop-psychology. I didn't have a particularly tough childhood but there were things I needed to be aware of, and be careful of, from a young age. I developed a sensitivity to my surroundings through necessity. And I'm sure I'm not the only one.

The writers I've become friends with are without doubt some of the most caring, thoughtful people I've ever met. And they understand that I am sensitive, because they are too. They realise that I will over-analyse every last word of an email for hidden significance, so they are careful with what they say - careful to get the tone of every flippant remark just right to strike a note of humour and not to offend. They understand my agonising tendency to over-think, because they do too. As one of my exes said to me once: 'You just need to stop thinking. That brain of yours will get you in trouble one day'. He was right of course, it has done many times. But I can't imagine living my life in a fog, unaware of my environment. As well as this thoughtfulness, my writer friends are also resolutely supportive and encouraging, because they know that writing is a tough game to play.

But along with this sensitivity, there's something that distinguishes the writer who perserveres from the writer who falls at the first hurdle. And that is tenacity. An absolute dogged determination. An inner strength that drives you onwards, despite outward rejection and crippling lack of self-confidence. All the writers I've met are such strong people. Not just to perservere in the face of tiny odds - to call the chances of hitting the big time in this business slim would be an overstatement. But also strong people morally and emotionally. Again, maybe a strength developed from a tough time in the past. I don't know. But it's this strength that I most admire.

We're a peculiar breed, us who like to write our wildest fantasies down on paper - even the horrific, gut-wrenching ones that give us nightmares. But we're special too. And I wouldn't want it any other way.

Current Mood: thoughtful

I've just discovered something else that's especially lovely about being single, and that is the fact that you can buy yourself an eye-wateringly expensive Mulberry handbag as a Christmas present, one you really and truly cannot afford, without having to hide the receipt from anybody but yourself.

I know, I know, it was extravagant madness but I don't care - it was worth it. I love this bag more than I love the money it cost me! Tis truly beautiful.

And as Keats said, a thing of beauty is a joy forever, and he must know what he's talking about since he got published ;-)

Current Mood: happy

Talking of addictions, it occurred to me I have quite a few. They change periodically of course, but there's always something new that I'm obsessed with. And there are always a few constants too. So here's the current list, for those of you addicted to reading people's boring navel-gazing blog posts:

1) Peppermint tea. Not any old peppermint mind you, it has to be Twinings. This week I've been on M&S organic ones and they're just not quite the same.

2) Chocolate. This is a given of course. At the moment, it's those damn Wispa bars Cadbury have just started producing again. When we moved offices to the swanky Blue Fin Building I was perversely relieved that the chocolate selection in the canteen was so poor, as it made it much easier to resist. Initially, we had a choice of only KitKats, Snickers, Mars or Twixes. But now they've thrown Wispas into the mix, and I've had one every single day this week. My cellulite is having an early Christmas party.

3) Kerastase hair products. My god they're good. But bloody expensive - £25 for a standard sized bottle of shampoo and conditioner. I curse the hairdresser who introduced them to me (or I would, if I could remember her name) because now I've started using them, there's no way I could go back...

4) Blue peppermint Extra. I have discussed this at length here, so I won't go back over it, but the addiction is as strong as ever.

5) Eastenders. I watch Hollyoaks (gulp, the shame) and Corrie too, but Enders is the only one that I hate missing. Even when it's shite, as it has been recently. Thank god for TV on demand! I dread to think how many hours I have wasted engrossed in the antics of the unluckiest people in London.

6) Facebook. And more specifically, Scrabulous, which I am completely terrible at. This is not false modesty, I really am terrible. I have played 13 games so far and lost all of them except 2. Ahem.

7) My iPod. Every day, without fail, I listen to it on the way to and from work. And yes, I do know all my iTunes library off by heart now, which does make it slightly boring but anyway... it was the best £200 or so I ever spent. I don't know what I'd do without it.

8) The gym. I just *have* to go, every morning at 6am before work, or I don't have the energy to face the day. Er, NOT. Did I get you? Did I? The gym!!! ha bloody ha...if only...

Current Mood: awake

I'm blaming this song for my recent lack of productivity. I have been playing it on repeat and jigging around my spare bedroom/office like a nutter all day. But wow, it's soooo catchy. God I love Justin Timberlake. Why aren't there more men like him in my life!?

He hasn't even released this track, hence the crappy video!

Current Mood: giddy

It's probably not a wise move posting with a hangover. I expect this to be riddled with spelling and grammatical mistakes which will not leap out at me as they normally would. But anyway. I have been pulled up by several people about my lack of blog posts recently so I feel I should write something. Especially since all I've managed to do today is have a shower and sit slumped over many cups of tea, rubbing my bruised and blistered feet intermittently, promising them I will never wear those shoes without tights again.

The truth is I don't have much time to blog nowadays. I know I'm going to sound like an unbearably smug, irritating person, but I'm just so happy and busy at the moment. Yeah, yeah, you can tell me I'm showing off if you like - I don't care. This year's been the most bizarre of my life, and finally, I feel things are settling down. Maybe this is the thing everyone goes on about - getting into your late twenties (!) - your life starts coming together. I know people say your early twenties are all about figuring out who you are, what you want etc... and to be honest my early twenties are now just a blur of insecurity.

Finally I feel quite happy in my own skin, determined to put myself first, and to enjoy life to the full. Part of me still thinks that sounds really selfish, but is it really? I'm sure it's not coincidence that, at this time in my life when I feel the most stable and secure, I'm in my fifth month of singledom!! Not that I'm blaming the men in my life for all my past troubles, but there's something to be said for not having anyone else to worry about! Work is good, if full-on, the people I work with are lovely and fun, my social life is bursting at the seams and the thing that matters the most to me (aside from friends, family and the buns!) - my writing - is going pretty well. Perhaps for the first time ever, I have absolutely no reason to be miserable. I am a very lucky girl. I don't mean this to come across all big-headed, it's just my way of expressing my gratitude for the position I'm now in.

I submitted the first three chapters of my novel to a few agents last week. Very weird. I feel almost as though it doesn't matter what happens now. Because the achievement was finishing the book. It's not perfect, there's still so much I could do with it, but to be honest, it's had the best of me for the last few months and for now, that's all it's getting. And I think it's actually OK for a first effort. And if it doesn't get anywhere, then that's fine, cos I've learnt so much while writing it and I know book number two will be much better. ;-)

Current Mood: happy

Yes, it's official. Just in case there was ever any doubt: I am a crazy, deluded loon. I have agreed to participate in National Novel Writing Month - where similarly nutty people, who really ought to be spending their free time doing something worthwhile, challenge themselves to write a novel in a month. Not just any month either. November. Which yes, you're right, only has 30 days in it. Pretty stingy of the organisers if you ask me. Why couldn't they hold it in October instead?

The task is to complete 50,000 words in those 30 short days. That's 1666.66 words a day. Hmmm.

Heaven knows what I am going to write about. But apparently that's the point. You're not meant to know. You're meant to just sit down on the 1st November, keyboard before you, and bash out whatever comes into your mind.

I really wanted to participate last year, but as many of you know, this time last year I was preparing for my wedding (ahem) so had other things on my mind. This year, I'm preparing for my divorce, which is not nearly as stressful, so I feel I must have a go at the old NaNo madness, if only to say that I've done it once.

People run marathons, swim oceans, take hot air balloons around the world, right? So what's hammering out 1666 words of crap a day? No, not pointless. Child's play! (see, delusional)

Anyway, I'm signed up as charduck on the site, so if any of you other crazy people would like to 'friend' me, please feel free. Would be very happy to unite in nonsensical optimism.

Current Mood: crazy

On Friday eve, my work colleagues Amy and Nicola and I decided to go to the flash mob at the Tate Modern, cos it's right next to our office. For those of you not familiar with the whole flash mob concept, it's basically just an informal gathering in a public place of a load of people, who do something crazy and then move on. And Friday's event was 'mobile clubbing' - which basically entails everyone turning up with their iPods on and dancing like looneys. I was really intrigued by the whole thing, and convinced there was no way I could dance in public like that. Especially not at 7pm, despite the double gin and tonic I'd had first. I thought the whole idea was a bit stupid actually. But...as is sadly often the case, I was wrong. It was bloody hilarious! I haven't laughed that much in ages. Amy, Nic and I synchronised our iPods to 'Love at First Sight' by Kylie (twas the only track we definitely knew we all shared) and at 7.01pm, pressed Play and started to dance!

We lasted about twenty minutes before getting a bit sweaty and deciding to leave the hardcore ravers to it. I filmed some of it on my phone - the quality is terrible but you get the idea! The funniest bit was watching the faces of all the poor people who'd just turned up at the Tate to see the famous new art installation - the 'crack' in the floor - only to be greeted by hundreds of crazy people dancing away in silence. Will definitely be going to the next one!

Current Mood: amused

I’m not feeling the blogging vibe at all at the moment. Have started a few posts lately but abandoned them all after realising they were, quite frankly, boring. What this reveals about me and my life is debatable but I fear depressing. Also, I was the recipient of some cyber criticism about my last post which has put me off blogging a bit. I have to defend myself and say I genuinely wasn’t showing off in describing my house and I’m annoyed if I came across that way. Also, if you choose to criticise me or my blog, please at least tell me who you are cos it’s just rude not to.

In any case, things have been hectic. I spent the beginning of October in Newquay, *finally* meeting Lisa Glass, her husband Jon and her lively puppy Digger for the first time, and had a really lovely weekend. It was really weird how nervous I was before we first met, and for a few hours after, until the alcohol kicked in!! Even though I feel I know Lisa really well, there's something missing until you've met someone in the flesh. Anyway I'm happy to report that she didn't have terrible BO or anything, and that she's just as lovely in real life as she is in her emails... ;)

My parents moved house last week too, leaving behind the lovely High Barn to start afresh in East Horsley. I was actually pretty gutted as I loved their old house so much and have so many fab memories of the place, but I can safely say I wasn't as upset as my sister Sophie, who I think may still be crying about it.

But the worst thing to happen lately is that my poor bunny Rupert fell ill, and was at death’s door for a few days. I am happy to report he is now back to fighting fitness, but I can’t actually describe how ridiculously upset I was at the thought I might lose him. OK, I know, he’s only a rabbit. I don’t expect anyone to understand. But he means so much to me, bless him. I am officially a Crazy Rabbit Woman. But my house doesn’t stink of wee. Promise.

Right, well, snooze-fest over for this week. Told you didn’t I? Bet you wish you hadn’t wasted your time.

Hopefully my next post will be more inspired!

Current Mood: drained

I think I actually fell in love with my house the first time I saw it. On www.findaproperty.com, one boring Wednesday last August, when I was at work with little to do. We weren't even looking for a house. Chris and I had decided to stay in my flat in Surbiton for at least another year, because moving is so damned expensive. But then I saw this house, and rang up and booked an appointment to view it without even telling him.

And that weekend, we went to see it. And literally, it was love at first sight. Something I don't believe in in any other circumstances. But the minute we pulled up outside the house, I was smitten. So smitten that the fact that: a) it was in Chessington which has a spectacularly crap train service to London and b) it was an ex-council house and I swore I would never stoop so low (!), faded into the background. We loved it. Both of us. Possibly the only thing Chris and I ever wholeheartedly agreed on.

And then six agonising weeks of withdrawn mortgage offers and failures to secure the asking price on my flat followed, until finally things sorted themselves out, and we moved in. On the 15 September. A year ago tomorrow. I was SO happy. I remember vividly the evening we got the keys, just running around the empty house like a lunatic. The Gerbera the previous owners had left for us brought a tear to my eye, then Chris presented me with tickets to see The Sound of Music at the Palladium as a moving-in present and I thought all my dreams had come true.

Well, a lot can happen in a year. But one thing hasn't changed, and that's my love for this humble three-bed semi, with its now-overgrown garden, lovely neighbours (Lily and Dave - practically grandparents to me now), half-converted outbuilding and crumbling front brick wall. I still love it. I'm so proud of it, and all the work I've put in making it the way I want it. But at the same time, there's something sad about the fact that it's just me now. Just me in the cosy living room. Doesn't seem worth lighting the perfectly colour-coordinated scented candles just for me. Sometimes I leave my dishes in the sink overnight, cos I know it's only me that will see them in the morning. Often now I go out straight after work and the television and oven go unused for days.

It's sad.

I don't know what to do. I LOVE this house, but at the same time, it's too big for just me and two small (if demanding) bunnies. I'm still deciding what's for the best, but am sadly considering moving again. Even if to just be near a decent train service for work.

But in the meantime, number 30, here's to our one-year anniversary! Cheers and thank you!

Current Mood: thoughtful

One word: wow.

It's a must-see!

I'm a bit speechless. And teary.

Current Mood: impressed

I *think* I've nailed the end of my book!

Yes, the middle is still a big ole mess but hey, you can't have everything.

I love the ends of books. Most times I pick up a book to flick through in a shop, I'll read the ending as well as the beginning. Slightly childish - like looking for your Christmas presents as a child even though you know it'll take the fun out of Xmas day. But it's such a skill... there's something fascinatingly difficult about pulling off a good ending. So many fab books have been spoilt for me by a weak or unsatisfying one.

Back in April when I wrote 'THE END' proudly at um, the end, of my book, I let the lovely people in my writer's group read the last thousand words or so. One of them pointed out that basically it was rushed. And anti-climatic. Which it was - I wrote the final 10,000 words in about a week. But anyway it was OK cos it was a first draft and everyone says they're meant to be shit. So last Friday, before my fun-filled weekend to Brussels with my non-writer mates, I re-wrote my final chapter. And I feel really quite happy with it. Which makes a nice change!

The rest of the book is now edited on paper, so I still have the laborious task of making all my changes on the computer to get on with. And then, there will probably have to be a third draft. Cos basically, the middle is still rubbish.

But anyway, it's all progress, steps in the right direction and the end is in sight!


Rupert and Ruby try to eat my novel

p.s. If anyone knows exactly what the difference between an epilogue and a final chapter is, please can they enlighten me?

Current Mood: happy

...being stuck in the house does mean I've got lots of time to gaze adoringly at these little blighters. And watch lots of Sex and the City.

Please ignore the irritating videographer's commentary. Complete with baby talk. That woman really should learn to shut up. But when you're as chatty as me and live alone - well, let's just say, the rabbits have become very good listeners!



p.s. Thanks to everyone for being so encouraging after my last rant!

Current Mood: productive

Why am I doing this to myself?

I have booked three days off work. What for? To sit here at home, on my own, and edit my novel. In August. At 26 years old. When I only get 25 days off a year.

OK granted the weather today is shite. But even so, there are SO many lovely things I could be doing right now. But no, I shun pleasure, joy and fun. Instead, I am sat here, with backache and a lack of willpower, trying to knock my first draft into shape.

So much of it is utter bollocks. And I'm a scratch-card kinda girl. You know, instant gratification. No painful week-long wait till the annoying live draw. This is why journalism is so great. At the most, you've got a 1000 word article, and that takes about a couple of days of solid work to perfect. Then it's done. Finished. You can move on. Others can read and praise it. Instant satistfaction. And that's before the stupendously important fact that I get paid to write articles is even mentioned.

Humph. My novel is about 100,000 words long. So much of it was written when I was knackered after a day at work, and it shows! It's this great, long, unwieldy, cliche-ridden thing. I can't comprehend it all in one go. Not like a nice, short, concise article. Oh no. The beginning of my novel is clear, the end needs a serious re-write but I actually have some notes on that so I think I know what to do with it. But the middle. The middle is a big, giant mess and I just don't know what to do with it, how to get a handle on it, or even why I am bothering.

Urgggh.

Current Mood: gloomy

I'm becoming a complete nerd. Must be something to do with my job, but I'm finding the whole web design stuff quite fascinating now. I know I've mentioned it before, but iWeb, the free software for creating websites that came with my Mac, is so easy-peasy to use. And, um, fun (OK I'm a loser, it's official). Anyway, I've been using it to help create a couple of sites for some good friends lately and have enjoyed it to the extent that I'm now considering taking a Dreamweaver course to learn a more professional program.

First off, we have the wonderful Catherine Law, one of my colleagues at Homes & Gardens, who has recently qualified as a reflexologist. You can visit her site here: www.relaxreflexology.net. Catherine's an absolutely amazing person - if you're going to trust anyone with your feet, she's definitely a good bet! - and I can testify that her reflexology skills are fantastic. And potent! As a thank you for helping her out with the site, she gave me an hour-long reflexology treatment - I was a bit of a sceptic before but now I'm convinced that there's definitely something in it. It's also wonderfully relaxing too. I practically fell asleep half-way through.

The other site was for the lovely Lisa Glass - an EXTREMELY talented writer whose debut novel, Prince Rupert's Teardrop, is coming out in November. I can't wait to read it - I've only read a few extracts so far and have been blown away by the way she writes - richly detailed yet so precise. Anyway you can read all about Lisa and her novel on her site: www.lisaglass.co.uk. Oh and you can pre-order the book from there too!

Current Mood: creative

I know I keep posting songs from YouTube - bit of a blogging cop-out really - but this one makes me cry, it's so beautiful. Promise it will be the last for a while!

Current Mood: mellow