Showing posts with label stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stuff. Show all posts

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Stuff IT

Some stuff that did and didn't happen.

S. IT trouble.

My laptop broke. My button was wobbly. I thought, for a while, it might fall off but it didn't: it jammed. I had to send my laptop off to be fixed. It's all mended now though.

T. I had a request from an agent to read one of my novels.

I sent an email and had a positive response, then my laptop broke. After much perspiring and use of pen drives I was able to send the requested MS. I am crossing my fingers and hoping said agent likes my story. I'll report back as and when.

U. I had a new blog post all done but for a few pictures.

My laptop broke. I have to do it all again. And I will. Soon. There were three things I wanted to do but Valentine's day is like the world's fastest cake and I am going to spend this week's writing time catching up on all of your blogs and making a list of questions instead of worrying about what's gone (scone).

F. Serendipity.

I posted a letter. I received a lovely reply and I'm meeting a lady on Saturday who grew up in the town I am writing about and is the granddaughter of the man who is the central character of my triptych. The really interesting thing is, she lives just five minutes drive from me - but the best bit: my laptop could not impede good old fashioned post and I have an actual little bit of paper history all of my own to tie me to the lives of those I am writing about. Am I writing myself into fiction or bringing my fiction to life?

F. I thought about using numbers to mark these bullet points but numbers only add up to more numbers and I don't want numbers, I want words. That was my stuff for today. More and less of the same coming soon.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

So shall we




It isn't saving lives, is it?

Writing is pretty selfish.

One markets it as an essential tool for understanding society, or a method of ascertaining the human condition but that's being somewhat philosophical.

Can writing save your life, or anyone else's?


The intuitive ones among you may have noticed a touch of melancholy to my tone - yes, I got another rejection. You are a sensitive lot! I've lost count how many negative returns that is from the ten or so queries I sent out but that's because I have dyscalculia and not because I am not counting! However, there are some unaccounted for (um) so it's all still very much to play for. And even if they all come back with no love I will be sending another batch out and going through the same process all over again. I am nothing if not tenacious!


Life would be simpler if I could be happy doing some other job. All I can do is make stuff: of words, of paint, of stuff. You make of me what you like.