Secrets and Lies

June 15, 2009

Why are things so much more exciting when done in secret? Most commonly this applies to sex, and that’s where the lies come in, but in my case I’m talking about something that shouldn’t be shameful at all: writing. That thing I’m supposed to do all the time, and talk about as if I do all the time, but more often than not don’t.

I find writing at home practically impossible. A spent most of Sunday afternoon bored out of my tree yet could not bring myself to get the laptop out. Too bored to sit still. In the end I baked a golden money cake to give my SO good luck getting a new job.

But compare to this lunchtime: I pootled out the office to the most sacred of spaces (a coffee shop within a bookshop) and with only twenty minutes available scribbled half a side of A4 in details and plans for a major scene. And decided to switch the personalities of two significant characters.  When time is short, important things can be achieved. The longer the time I have, the less I am likely to do anything. Could secret lunchbreak writing be the key to Project B’s success?


Full of it

April 6, 2009

The joy of spring that is. My garden has a lot of colour at the moment, though beyond the single daffodil and a gnarled up rose I have no idea what they’re called. It was all good until today but now I am also full of hay-fever. Poopies.

I have been spending all my free time with writerly friends, partaking of writerly activities like writing envelopes to agencies (on behalf of my friend), sitting in coffee shops and criticising popular novels and their writers. And buying shoes, but I needed shoes because my last pair came apart slightly and made me fall down in two seperate train stations, causing great concern to the general public.

I’m still hopeful of a slow but steady rise in progress as I now have a new writing aid…

Though progress may be hindered by general rage for StinkyHouseFolk who seems to have replaced his casual racism with active sexism and has been particularly obnoxious (as well as physically noxious) all week to everybody.


I’ve got my feminist hat on

March 17, 2009

First and foremost today, I am wearing my feminist hat. Now that I’ve said it twice I might have to get a real hat. Quote of the day: 

“Masculinity is what phallotarians do to keep women feminized. Femininity is what women do to keep from being pathologized, criminalized, ostracized, jailed, raped, and butchered”

 – curtesy of Twisty at http://blog.iblamethepatriarchy.com

This quote puts into words something I think I have long had an intuition about. Knowing that if I don’t display an appropriate level of culturally sanctioned feminity when out and about people could stare or make comments. If that sounds daft or extreme I agree, but that doesn’t stop it happening. And I’m lucky that that’s only one end of the scale that leads ultimately to violence.

Is it wrong that I’m looking forward to reaching an age where I will no longer be considered fuckable so that I will no longer be subject (object) of the public gaze?

In other news: I have been a total slacker with my writing. I wonder if I should start writing something else; another major project or something that exists only for me. The short stories I wrote last year were what I thought a short story should be. I want to be absurd, ridiculous, but when I sit down to do it I get blank page anxiety. I bought a book called “Gasoline” by Dame Darcy, a visually pleasing work with lots of illustrations. This is the kind of thing I love, so why am I not writing it? Because silliness is inappropriate? Because it won’t win any prizes?

I have not been wasting my time though. It has been gorgeously sunny ( I can scarcely believe winter is over, I’m sure it only snowed last week and christmas was the week before). I spent half the weekend reading in the garden amongst my swaying laundry and cats who like to poke their faces through the back of the bench.


Woe (times are changing)

March 10, 2009

I’m in a deep, dark, emo funk. It’s bad. It’s a blend of recession blues, personal dissatisfaction and general disgust for humanity.

The recession may see me joining the ranks of the boomerang generation I fought so hard to avoid (oh who am I kidding? I sat pretty and was glad of my lucky escape) and moving back to my parents house. This would only be tolerable if I could keep my job and work online.

I am personally dissatisfied with my person. The blues have been killing the delicate orchid of my motivation and every act is becoming a chore. If left to my own devices, with no watchers or responsibilities, I am certain I would be living in a pile of fetid blankets, reading book after book, eating from a can and refusing to shower so I didn’t have to go outside.

This is actually a pretty good mentality for me to start my novel redrafting. A little drop of self-loathing is good for my creative process; stops me getting too distracted.

General disgust for humanity is not something I like to feel but it’s almost always there. There always seems to be something: like the latest reports on the insanely high level of domestic violence, or overhearing people talk about the criteria they simply must have for their second car. Or their beach holiday (hmm, Mauritius or Dubai?).  And that thing about the Brazilian girl (age 9) who really shouldn’t have had an abortion (of twins) because now God won’t love her.

Anyway…

I went to see Watchmen at the weekend. My favourite part was the opening montage, soundtracked by “the Times, They are a-Changing” where they all started so young and happy and full of pride, optimism and self-belief and gradually got torn apart. Despite having read the comic and knowing all their fates I still had a tear in my eye when I saw Silhouette and her girlfriend murdered. That montage was a high-calorie viewing experience in itself.

Sometimes I look at people and think they’re hurting. It’s not true though; they’re just waiting for someone to talk to.


Master Plan(TM)

October 14, 2008

I thought it only fair to update on the Master Plan(TM) seeing as I was so excited about it last week. Although I experience the world in real time people reading back might not be, and in the interest of having consistent plot threads tying my incoherent life together I feel I should make more effort to address that.

So. Master Plan(TM) is dragging somewhat. The stories for Scarlet are not spontaneously finding themselves written, which annoys me because if I could sell one I could afford to go the dentist for the first time in 5 years. My current excuse is that I downloaded yWriter in anticipation of NaNoWriMo and that if I turn on my laptop I will prematurely ejaculate text all over it because it’s that sexy. Like all commodities I acquire I believe it will make up for my personal failings in a way that simple motivation never could. At least I am ready for nano, part 2 of the Master Plan(TM), and haven’t completely given up all my plans and aspirations yet.

inspire, aspire, perspire, expire…

Need more latin.

My secondary excuse is that I should be sewing my mum’s christmas present before I lock myself into my writing pod for November. This excuse would be fine if I hadn’t just spent the weekend reading and watched University Challenge last night. That show made me laugh far more than I was expecting. I think they were getting the giggles too, it’s possible they had shrooms in the green room to relax the contestants. I might have to watch it again – the obscurity of the topics tickled me eg: name the owner of this dog and which 19th century novel they appeared in.


101 thi – uh, 88 things in 1001 days

October 9, 2008

So I was bored, slacking off as usual (jokes – there is no work :s) when I found all the old archives of people doing 101 things in a 1001 days. I think it’s quite a cool idea, it gives you plenty of variety of things to focus on while giving you the gentle push of a distant deadline to make you do the things you’ve supposedly always want to but never actually got around to.

It’s kind of like the CD paradox. I would see a CD I really wanted, several times. I would pine for the CD, go into the shop and stroke the little picture of the musician I so admired, the trundle off to pine some more. Then, completely unexpectedly I would find myself out with friends and we’d go into HMV. 3 CDs for £20 you say? Gosh what a bargain. I’d leave the shop and think “but these aren’t what I’ve been pining for?” and remember that my true love was still on the shelf and in my bag was dross. This happened several times. I think they release some kind of hypnotic gas in that place…

But it’s the same for general life. I think “oh wouldn’t it be nice to go to Stratford?” but then I watch TV or doss about town or see a really incredibly poor film at the cinema. So I thought I’d jump on the bandwagon and hitch a lift to happytown. I haven’t quite finished my list yet but I’ve only be doing it today. It’s probably good to have a bit of reflection time. It’s good to know that there I things I want to do. And I had a good idea for gifts I can make.


I’m still good

October 1, 2008

Just not posting much this week because I now sit about 10 inches below the nose of my boss.

Time seems to be passing faster with every passing year. I should just simplify things and say Merry Hallowmas now.