Pass me the machete

Just a quickie to say I've edited 15% of the book so far, and all is well. This isn't the first edit for the beginning of the book by any means - certainly the first third of the book has been through quite a few drafts already. Still, I'm struck by what amount of work it still needs! And I'm anticipating doing at least 2 further drafts (including this one) before the thing is ready to be submitted anywhere.

I've cut 2000 words which is good - it's so cathartic! I'm about to get rid of a character who doesn't do anything and save them for another book. It's enough to give you a god complex. I love it.

I really like this process so far. It was such a relief to end the story, as I was never entirely sure how it would end until I got there. Now I feel like I can tinker and cut and rewrite to my heart's content, having got a better idea of the overall shape of the story. That's what was so difficult when I was still writing the first draft: keeping the through-line and shape of the book in my head. I see now that everything (dialogue, scenes, funny bits) has to add something significant to character and/or keep moving the story forward, every scene has to contribute to the whole, rather than the book being a series of vignettes. I guess that's what they mean by killing your darlings. I feel like a mass murderer at the moment! It's great!

First Draft Done! RAH!!!!

It's finally flippin' well finished!

Lordy, it's only taken me, what?

ALL MY LIFE

Fuck me, I cannot believe it. Sorry for the language, but it has been a long time coming. And do you know what? In true style, I wrote the last sentence, went to save it and for the first time, EVER, my laptop crashed. Yes. I am not making this up. It's like it KNEW. Cue long phone conversation to husband who is Oracle of All Things I.T. I was remarkably calm, in fact I was more worried that I wasn't going to be able to post my Novel Racers coffee morning tomorrow. I'm not sure why I was so calm, I guess I was in denial.

After much clicking on stuff that wouldn't work and monitoring CPU usage and trying to shut random things down, we resorted to shutting everything down and crossing our fingers.

I fired the thing up again, and who would have guessed it? It's intact. Thank you, Bill Gates. Thank you a lot.

I'm delirious - look, it's 130,000 sodding words long and it's taken a while...I can't wait to edit, I'm serious. Did I mention it was 130,000 words long? I'm going to take a scythe to it, I'm telling you. Whole characters are going to go (probably), whole scenes, maybe even a subplot. It's going to be 110,000 absolute max and as tight as a gnat's chuff.

I over-write. I'm going to deal with it. I just don't know any other way, yet.

Anyway, I am being remarkably restrained and having a wee snifter of Gewürztraminer, because it's all we have in the fridge, but tomorrow night there will be Champagne and smiles and laughter and just the slightest bit of regret...ahh...

Hurrrrrah!!!!!

Autumn only more so

As I sit here at my desk, the window in front of me is open and there's a strong, warm wind blowing in a drying my hair. It's glorious; it's 76F and wonderfully balmy. Or barmy, from the point of view of a Brit who is definitely not used to this kind of weather in October. I got all the winter woolies out at the weekend and me and the husband ventured up into New Hampshire to see the fall foliage - what amazing colours! It was a little chillier up there. We saw the first snow in the White Mountains and took heaps of pictures of all the pumpkin people and harvest and Halloween paraphernalia. I love this time of year! I am so looking forward to Halloween; here it seems like the Yanks start gearing up for it at the end of September and everyone seems to make an effort in dressing their doorways or windows or gardens. You can get black trees with baubles! It's like Christmas but spookier! I'm really excited about the whole pumpkin thing. I grew up in the north east of England where we used to hollow out turnips with spoons. It was an all-day job, but they do smell rather delicious when they have a candle burning in them and they biodegrade in a really alarming and satisfyingly grotesque way. And of course, you can eat the mash. I'm not sure what I'll do with all the pumpkin innards; I'm really not up on pumpkin recipes, although I am sure they are legion.

I've been told that the temperature is going to suddenly drop. One day we'll be skipping around in our light jumpers, the next we'll be pulling on the thermals. It's all good; when it's colder I'll be writing even more instead of looking out of the window and yearning to go sailing one more time...

Ah! I'm loving it!

The last few weeks I've felt a little bit lonely for the first time during our 7 months here. It's a weird feeling, I'm not normally prone to loneliness at all. I like spending time on my own, I am not the sort who needs people around me and constant activities. However, I have been really missing my good friends from home. It would be lovely to meet up with some of my best girl buds for a drink or a moan or a laugh. It's so fricking difficult to meet new peeps in your thirties unless you have a child or work with folks. The New Englanders are very friendly and welcoming, but they have a reserve - not unlike the Brits - and it's hard to break that wall down. And I've realised how often us Brits bond with humour: a self-deprecating, dry, ironic humour that is widely misunderstood over here. I love the Americans' positivity, but it can be a little alienating in a strange sort of way. We have a couple of friends from the husband's work who are fab, and we're slowly meeting others through joining various clubs and wotnot, but it's a bloody gradual process and sometimes I feel like a bit of a saddo.

However, I've had no excuse not to write! I have been tackling my chick/wit lit novel and I'm on the final leg of my first draft.

The writing is actually going extremely well. At least, in the sense that it's pouring out of me. I'm not convinced that it's particularly good; I think I might have some serious editing and rewriting to tackle in due course, but the flow is there and that's what I'm excited about. I am just shy of the 100,000 word mark and I reckon I'll be finished my first draft in about 2 weeks time. Then it'll be time to bring out the Champagne! In the meantime, I might have to try one of those pumpkin spice lattes...

Are the Boys of Summer gone, then?

Well, there haven't been any boys. Apart from the husband, of course. But I have that Don Henley classic rolling round me head as I write this, wondering when the leaves are going to start to turn and I'll get the first peek at the famed New England fall. It's still pretty damn hot, the kind of weather that would constitute an amazing summer back home in the UK. And yet they tell me that summer ended on Sept 1st - so why am I wearing shorts and t-shirt?

(I've never fully got to grips with the question of whether seasons should be capitalized - Summer, Autumn or summer, autumn. And while we're at it - is South East England correct, or is it south east England or southeast England?)

So here I am - after almost a 3 month hiatus which consisted of:

1 Going back to the UK for a couple of weeks
2 Having my ma to stay here in the US for a month
3 Having a 3 week mad writing marathon to make up for all the time off
4 Having one of my best mates here for a couple of weeks
5 Having a wee holiday on Cape Cod - hurrah!

So that's what I've been up to. I've powered my way into a new kids' book - an adventure story for 9-12 year olds, and would have been nearly finished the first draft had I not fallen into the usual trap of writing too damn much. I was aiming for around 30,000 words, but I've already written about 25,000 and I'm only halfway through my plot. Bugger. I think one of the reasons is that I still haven't found my 'voice' for this book, so I'm over-writing and trying different things out. First draft stuff. I'm going to be doing some serious culling and re-writing when I finally get to the end, but I think it's the best way to go for now.

Writing this book has been a very different experience from writing my first kids' book and my chick lit novel. It's been much harder to write and I've had to stick to very strict schedules and word counts for each day. It's been a trial and has felt like work. I'm enjoying the story and being in the world of the book, but the process of getting it down on paper has been much more of an effort for some reason. I think that this is because it is more plot-led than character-based. That's probably no bad thing for my writing. There's more action (which involves more description) and less dialogue. It's probably more male, less anecdotal. And it's not comic - not that it's without humour, I don't think I could write it otherwise, I'm all about the funny. I guess it's just a little more straight. I just hope that doesn't translate as boring.

Anyway, I'm going to give it a rest! In true style, I'm going to bury it for a few weeks and switch to the chick lit novel again. This has kind of been the pattern of the year, swapping from one to the other as the whim takes me. The thing is, the chick lit thing is just eating away at me until I get it done, it's so easy to be fired up about this book as it's such a huge ol' dollop of me and I want to start subbing it. I had a long conversation with the husband about the book at the weekend as we were walking, and he was hugely helpful with getting a few things straight in my head. He's a creative person and understands a lot about story arcs, so it was great to run a few things by him.

I guess I'm feeling all back to school-y, so it's a great time to crack on. In some ways, this always used to be a favourite time of year for me. Time to get enthused, inspired and knuckle down and get busy.

Besides, they've closed the damn swimming pool on the roof, so what else am I gonna do with my day?

Twisted, yes. But definitely not bitter.

Ok, so it was a joke.

I haven't written a novel called 'Man on a Galloping Horse' and I didn't receive that letter. Just to clear that up, if anyone was in any doubt.

I wrote that post on a whim in response to some of the feedback that I've received in the last few months. Of course it hasn't all been that extreme - and in fact, I'd welcome it if the advice was that specific in some cases! I just feel that this problem of agents suggesting major rewrites with no promise of representation, seems to be a common occurrence amongst new writers that I know. There's a lot of people bloggging about it, it does present a dilemma. What the hell do you do if you've received 3 completely different batches of advice? You can't make all the changes that everyone wants, it would be nonsensical.

These days, an agent really needs to fall in love with your book as it stands. From what I've gleaned, in years gone by an agent might be more willing to take a chance on someone who they feel writes well, while still having reservations about aspects of the original piece submitted. Now it seems like they want all the work done before they'll sign you up. I understand why this is perhaps a good idea; believe me, I get it. But it takes one hell of a lot of work and soul-searching to take a couple of the elements that the agent liked and basically start from scratch. I have literally had an agent turn round to me and say something along the lines of, 'I love the Harry Potter character, but I don't like the idea of him being a wizard.' So I'm left thinking, well...what the hell should I write? Because if he's not a wizard, then all that stuff that happens to him can't happen...and the whole thing changes completely.

I know the answer is that I have to put ego aside but also only make the changes that are true to my vision. I have to follow my instinct, listen to my heart, blah, blah. But I like my story as it stands! I really do. It's not perfect, I know it - it does need work, I'm not sure exactly what, but I suspect I just need to WRITE BETTER. If the agents are not buying some aspect of the book, it's because I'm not selling it well enough. You can't please all of the folks all of the time, but I'm obviously not quite ticking enough boxes with the folks that matter.

My husband read my last post and was all like, 'You can't post that!' - but sod it. I don't mean it to be a bitter and twisted thing. I meant to take the piss - yes, out of the agents but also out of myself - I've created this monster, this rollercoaster, and I can't handle it on my own. I need guidance! I have got a lot to learn and TRULY, I'm open to learning it, but there's so much confusion! If there was any kind of cross-over area which more than one person had said they didn't like, I'd know what to address, but there has been such mixed response. One agent's meat is another agent's poison...

So what to do? Sit on it! I'm not changing a bloody thing for now. There will be some soul-searching, some serious mulling, but not any revising...yet. I'm going to get the hell on with something else, keep submitting and take a fresh look in a few months time. It's the only way to go. I hope.

I have a dilemma...

Dear Ms KayJay,

Thank you so much for sending me your novel 'Man on a Galloping Horse'. I enjoyed reading it and believe that it shows potential.

I particularly liked your central character, Matt the one-legged blind guy. However, I do think the book would work better if perhaps he had both of his legs and was fully-sighted. And maybe you'd like to change his name? I don't really like names beginning with 'M'.

The plot was thrilling and well-drawn. I love the idea of Matt riding out into the desert, accompanied only by his trusty steed. There's a great relationship between Matt and 'Dobbin'. However, I do think that it might work better if Matt was actually riding a motorbike - and perhaps not searching for his long-lost son but looking for a buried treasure? Additionally, the story would only benefit from being set somewhere a little less dry. Perhaps the Scottish Highlands? Or underwater?

Personally, I'd lose the bad guys. Yes, it is tempting to have that dramatic chase scene, the kidnapping and the courtroom battle, but I feel that this only disrupts Matt's journey unnecessarily.

(By the way - I'm not entirely sure that I believe in the idea of the letter getting lost in the post! I mean, just how realistic is this? It feels like a bit of a handy plot device that doesn't have any basis in real life!)

KayJay, I'm sure you are aware of how difficult it is to appeal to publishers in such a saturated market. A 'breakthrough' novel has to be exceptional to be noticed. With this in mind, I would suggest you consider having a female protagonist and adapting the book for a YA readership. And maybe include a space monkey, or some dinosaurs.

The book as it stands, is a bit shit. However, if you are willing to completely rewrite the whole thing, I might be persuaded to take a second look. No promises, mind.

Thanks so much for sending me your work.

Kind regards,

Ms Agent.

The Muse Came Back! Hurrah!

I'm back! Again!

I hadn't realised how much time had passed since I last blogged. SO much has happened, it's sort of tricky to know where to start...

On the personal side, all is well. Me and the husband have found a new apartment; we only had 3 months to stay in our lovely waterside yuppie box. The new place isn't waterfront, but it is rather fabulous. It's a little further out of Boston city centre than we had originally planned, but by London standards the journey is negligible. And it's got a bloody swimming pool! We couldn't resist, especially since the weather is getting hotter. The views are spectacular and I have had several moments of wondering what exactly we did to deserve this. We haven't entirely moved yet; I'm writing this from our 'old' waterfront pad. We don't get chucked out of this place until the end of the month and we thought we'd use our last days here to make the most of it.

We had to pretty much start from scratch with furniture. The shipping arrived a week ago and I realised how little we had packed. I guess we assumed we'd be living in a fully furnished place and thought we'd buy anything we needed cheaply over here. Well, we brought virtually nothing! Clothes, a few books and dvds, a Wii and some kitchen stuff. That was it. So we hit Ikea and experienced a strange mixture of heaven and hell buying everything new. Then the next weekend we put it all together. Ah, the joys of flat-pack...

On to the writing stuff. It's been a funny old few weeks. I got stuck, I had a few faltering starts at getting into a routine again. Now I think I'm back into my flow, but it's taken a while. I reckon I've been over stimulated! I'm sure I'd do better with a dull life and a darkened room, rather than a harbour view and all this excitement of being in a new country!

Something important happened which was instrumental for getting me back on the right path. I went to a writing conference that was organised by a fabulous writing community here in Boston called Grub Street. It was a weekend of talks, workshops and opportunity to quiz agents and editors and meet fellow writers. I found the whole thing inspiring and depressing in equal measures. It was a great event, so well organised, with some really worthwhile speakers - but after you've been to a couple of these kind of things it does begin to feel like you're going over old ground. Obviously this was my first US conference and I was eager to find out how the market is different over here, so that was worth the fee on its own. It's always worth it just to make a vague connection with an agent or editor too, just so you can write to them saying, 'We met/I heard you speak at the conference...'. They do look at that sort of stuff; sometimes it can get you to the top of the slush pile. However, I say it made me depressed because you hear the same thing, again and again, about the importance of having a unique voice and marketability and trends and how few books actually sell... I don't resent or dispute any of this, but it doesn't serve the creative spirit to get too bogged down with all of that stuff. Good to know, but not good to dwell on. We writers just have to write and write and keep writing and keep getting better.

There was a rather ball-busting session in the conference which they called 'Editor/Agent Idol'. The idea was that writers would anonymously submit the first page of their books which would be read by an actor to 3 'judges' who would raise their hand at the point where they would stop reading. When all 3 judges hands were raised, the actor stopped reading the piece and the judges discussed why they didn't like it. It was HARSH. In spite of the fact it was anonymous, it was extremely nerve-wracking. In the first session, the first page of my adult novel was read out. One judge raised a hand after the first line. The other 2 after about the first paragraph! They were so sniffy about it! It's chick-lit, broadly speaking, and the editors were all of a distinctly literary bent so I had really set myself up for a fall. Also, it's supposed to be a funny beginning, but one of them thought it was 'try-hard' and another thought it was distasteful. Well, it didn't bother me too much. I have to figure that they're not exactly my demographic (2 thirty-something blokes and a sixty year old academic female) and there's always the question of whether my UK humour translates to a US audience!

The second session was judged by agents, and I had the first page of my kid's book read out. Different story. They laughed lots and although they all admitted that they didn't handle children's literature, they liked it. I was somewhat starstruck during this session, as one of the agents was Janet Reid, who was rumoured to be the infamous Miss Snark. She's always denied it, I think - but I was pretty much blown away by her anyway. What a character. So funny, so New York, so terrifying.

So what did I learn? First pages are really important. Not quite important, REALLY important. And also - agents and editors are human. It's not fair, but they are. They have mood swings and irrational, unpredictable aversions to certain words/phrases/subject matters. There was one guy who said he cannot abide any mention of the weather on the first page, he finds it so irritating. Then he totally contradicted himself when he said he loved a first page that was practically all description of a hard winter. This was pointed out to him and he admitted that actually he doesn't mind snow, but hates reading about sunshine. I mean, COME ON! What's a writer to do?

The conference got me to thinking (excuse the Carrie Bradshaw-esque turn of phrase) about what literary pretensions or aspirations I have, if any. It was a very literary, rather than commercial conference. In the UK I hear people bang on about the importance of being commercial, where as at this conference the emphasis was very much on writing literary fiction. In fact there was a session devoted to discussing the two. Can commercial fiction also be literary and vice versa? In a room of about 50 people, one of the panel who were discussing the subject asked us to raise our hands if we were writing commercial fiction. I did. One other person did, also. Everyone else considered themselves literary. There was no doubt that the people on the panel were a little snotty about being commercial. It got me thinking quite a lot; I've always aspired to entertain, and have people enjoy my work. It's not my main impulse, I write because I feel I have to write, I've got this stuff inside me that needs to get out. Apart from that, I aim to write things that will be escapist, diverting - but not require some huge intellectual and emotional commitment from the reader. Should I be more clever in my writing? Can I write literary books? Do I want to? I don't read a lot of what I would consider literary books. I like books with action, intrigue - yes, emotional journeys but nothing too introspective or pondering. Sometimes I think I'm a lazy reader. I like something a little disposable because I need escape from my life and my own head. And I like to write this way as well; I'm not sure I could cope with writing heavier material. Am I selling myself short?

I do believe commercial books can be great books, perhaps life altering books. But they don't need to be. Just as you can have a really great, memorable, enjoyable burger, I think you can have an great, memorable, enjoyable book which is ultimately light-weight. It's about accessibility.

I think I'll be writing more on this subject!

So, I came away from the conference determined to finish my chick-lit novel. I'd been a bit conflicted, as I have had interest from an agent in London who is eager to read more of my kids' stuff. I had one particular kids' book on the go, but I'd got stuck with it because I felt my chick-lit book was unfinished business that I had to get out of the way before I tackled something else. The conference made me think that I should just write what the hell I felt I needed to write, and the agent could just wait. It was a tough decision, because it's someone that I would love to represent me, but I feel the geographical distance is actually giving me some perspective on my career. I shouldn't rush into anything. I need to do what I need to do.

I started back with the chick-lit book, wrote a few pages, got a bit stuck. Went out for a walk (best way BY FAR for getting unstuck) and my new kids' book started to jump around in my head. I couldn't stop it. There I was trying to think of a way round my problems in finishing my chick-lit book, which I was dying to do, and the bloody kids' book which was thus far so damn elusive, won't go away!

The upshot is I'm writing the kids' book. It was a faltering start, but I'm in the zone now. It's very much first draft stuff; I'm abandoning all that I had written so far and starting anew. It's the same plot, just different voice and slightly different format. Watch this space for a word count! My aim is to get about 7-10 chapters in, then polish the first 3 chaps and the synopsis and send to the agent. I'm not going to wait until the whole thing is done, the agent knows it's a work in progress and they've already seen my first completed book, so hopefully they do know I am a finisher!

Ok, I have to stop now. This post has been uber-long and I haven't even written everything, but it's enough for now! On with the kids' book.

April Showers

Gosh, time flies. I've had so many things to blog about and no time to get 'em down. Such is life.

I'm feeling so positive at the moment. My company is sold, I have new interest from a fabulous agent (more about which anon) and I skied all of Sunday without falling over. I have lots of ideas for my writing. One of my best friends is coming to stay on Thursday and the sun is shining. Lots and lots of reasons to be happy.

However, I have a sort of theory that my happiness is to do with the amount of showers I'm having. I'm totally serious. A shower a day keeps the blues away. Not that I didn't wash before, I hasten to add. Sorry to dispel that particular myth, but us Brits do actually wash. It's just that I've always been more of a bath person. Baths are great - relaxing, warming, comforting - but I reckon showers make you happy. Here's the pseudo-science bit: I heard that it's something to do with the release of negative ions which occurs when water is flowing. That's also why we like water features and the beach and splashing in puddles. The negative ions supposedly put us in a good mood.

My husband, who is the scientist of the family by virtue of the fact that he's got a degree in engineering (as opposed to mine, which is in ACTING), says that this is total bollocks. But to me, the evidence is clear. Even the sound of the shower running puts me in a good mood. The times in my life when I've felt most positive are the times when I've lived in a place with a shower rather than a bath! What else could it be?

Showering is so much part of the American psyche. It's all wrapped up in that go-getter, best-that-I-can-be attitude. Maybe it's something to do with starting anew. Starting anew is such an American concept. You shower, you emerge a new person - invigorated, fresh, positive. As a Brit I've always embraced wallowing, but now I'm getting into the way of being blasted with energy and newness before I start the day. Red Bull for the soul.

I'm a bit slow. I don't mean I'm a thickie, or a slug or a dope. I've been cursed with the combination of a sharp mind and a slow pace. Sometimes it's a blessing; I am the swan with the legs kicking frantically underneath. I'm good at analysing, I'm all about the ponder. I'm a dreamer and a lounger, my brain works faster than my mouth and my body can never keep up. It's extremely hard to shut off from thinking sometimes, I guess that's why I like things like skiing and diving, because the mind doesn't have an opportunity to wander when you're throwing yourself down a mountain or 18 metres below the surface. So I have this hyperactive head that I can rarely switch off, while the bod is always reluctant to get out of first gear.

So what I'm trying to say - not altogether successfully, I fear - is that anything that gives me a kick up the arse is a good thing. That's why America is a good thing for me, that's why showering is a good thing for me. They both give me a helpful wallop and tell me to get on with my day and stop thinking about it. Just do it. Just bloody do it.

I'm off to run the water...

The Biggest Goodbye

Cripes, I've been here over 4 weeks now and I still haven't got my body clock right. I'm neither a night owl or and early bird by nature, but since I've been in the US I've been waking up between 4.30am and 7am most mornings and am often asleep on the sofa by 9.30pm. I think it's largely to do with the fact that if I open an eye at 4am I'm aware it's already 9am in the UK and there is potentially already STUFF for me to deal with in my inbox. So here I am, blogging away, in the PJs and staring out across the harbour at another beautiful east coast sunrise. Seriously, it could be a lot worse.

The last few weeks have been a funny old time - for a whole host of reasons - but not least because I'm in the process of selling my business in the UK. As I write, someone somewhere is signing a contract which will make them the new owner of my (sob) baby... Running my own business has been wonderful, terrifying, stressful, exhilarating. It has taught me so much, giving me such freedom, happiness, satisfaction - made me so angry and frustrated at times and pushed me so far out of my comfort zone. It's been a blast; now it's going to be a blast for someone else (and I'm really pleased it's going to a good home).

So now there will be nothing holding me back. No excuse not to write, I'll have all the time in the world. Sure, I'll have STUFF to do over the next few weeks - dealing with the move and associated red tape seems to go on and on - but as from today I am officially a lady of leisure, a housewife, UNEMPLOYED.

Actually, today is the first day I should start calling myself a writer! Blimey. That's enough to keep anyone awake at night.

Too much news!

Just a quickie to say thanks to all those who have continued to pop by whilst I've been busy getting on with ALL MY STUFF. I have so much to blog about at the moment it's difficult to know where to start. In brief: me and the hubby are ensconced in our new place in the US, I'm in the middle of finalising the sale of my company in the UK and the writing is on hold. It's kind of frustrating in that I met so many great contacts at the launch of the anthology and I just don't have the time to make the most of my good luck. However, in a couple of weeks time things should be more manageable and I'll be able to get down to business.

In the meantime, I love my new home! It's all rather splendid - or should I say, wicked awesome...

More soon!

No shoes, no news

Visitors to the paradise on earth that is the Maldives will recognise the title above. Sadly, I'm not currently diving with manta rays, but it did seem an appropriate phrase for my state at the moment; I twisted my ankle this weekend and so am confined to my fake Uggs for the next week or so. Definitely no shoes.

And the no news part?

Ok, time to break my silence about this agent thing. And a bit more.

So there was an agent who was interested in my children's book. She emailed me, said she'd like to meet to discuss ways of developing my ideas. Hurrah! I couldn't meet her immediately because I was out of town, so put her off for a week. Then when I returned, she couldn't meet me for a couple of weeks because she was out of the country. Fine, no harm done. Then she gets back to the UK and asks if there have been any developments with anyone else (she knows that a couple of other interested parties have the manuscript). Nothing significant, I say, and does she want to make a date to meet now?

Silence.

For over a week now.

The sensible part of me says that she's been away so has no doubt a lot to catch up on. So I'm probably at the bottom of her list - that's understandable. However, there's another part of me that thinks maybe she's just not that keen. I need someone to be keen. I'll consider all manner of changes, I'll rewrite like a madwoman, but GOD I need someone to be keen. Enthusiasm is so important, don't you think?

Here's something else to thicken the plot:

I've been keeping a little secret from you all in bloggerland. I had some interest from a publisher - a big publisher - back in October. I didn't want to blog about it at the time because it seemed so huge and exciting that I thought I might jinx it. Basically, an editor rang me up and told me how much they liked my book. The stuff of dreams, seriously. This was followed by a couple of brief but friendly emails and the promise to be in touch shortly. I hadn't heard anything by early December, so I gently enquired to see what was going on. I got another friendly reply - the editor said they were so sorry to keep me hanging and were discussing my book with collegues and that they hoped to be in touch shortly. They asked if I'd had any interest from other publishers? Nothing significant, I replied.

Silence.

For 2 months.

So the sensible part of me knows that things move slowly on Planet Publisher. I've read oh so many tales of editors sitting on a book - for 6 months, a year, whatever - then suddenly leaping into action. The other part of me is thinking it's all over.

Life has been incredibly frantic the last 4 months, so I haven't exactly had enough time to pimp my wares to my best advantage. What both agent and publisher have in common is that it seems that they're not going to bite until someone else does. (Should I have told a few porky pies about how in demand the book is? Not my style.) What we all have in common is that we are all going to be in the same room next week at the launch of the anthology that my story is featured in. I know.

How do I handle this? Do I prompt them both before the event and give them a chance to put me out of my misery in private?

Or do I wait til the big night and let them dump me over Champagne and nibbles?

Shag, Marry or Chuck off a cliff?

I have been busy recreating that bit out of Close Encounters when Richard Dreyfuss builds a big hill out of clay in his front room . Except with clothes.

Deciding which clothes to take to the US is unbearable. I love my clothes. I'm no fashionista - in fact, recent viewing of old Spice Girl videos has reaffirmed my belief that my fashion development stopped circa 1998 - but I have a lot of stuff. I'm your basic jeans and t-shirt kind of girl; there's a part of me that will be Forever Student, mixed with a fair old dash of theatricality and a slight hint of Rock Chick. I mainly do High Street, with the occasional well chosen label and a lot of Vintage - dammit, I was into Vintage before it got a capital V! I adore cashmere, have more boots than shoes and own a vast collection of Fat Face chenille socks (an invaluable writing tool). I have a thing about oversized pajama bottoms. I wear a different hat almost everyday and I can never have too many wrap dresses, long coats, scarves and denim.

I'm a sentimental horder. I have a pair of Converse from 1991 that I bought in Australia when I was backpacking and simply cannot get rid of because they have been through so much with me. I have a skirt from when I was 10 - it's been altered, but I STILL wore it up till about 5 years ago because it reminds me of being 10. I have a couple of my Dad's shirts (he died 7 years ago) that make me smile when I wear them to paint the flat or clean the kitchen floor.

I cannot throw anything out. The thought of storing these things for 2 years and them not seeing the light of day makes me feel a bit glum and pointless. The thought of taking them to the States makes me feel ridiculous.

There's such a skill in being able to pack a capsule wardrobe. One of my oldest friends recently went to Dubai for a week. She was unsure of what to take and showed me her suitcase. The case was large, and rattling around in the bottom somewhere were 3 casual dresses, a skirt, 2 tops and a swimming costume. I was gobsmacked. Where were all the clothes? She turned her back for a few minutes and I chucked in some more items, so panicked was I on her behalf. When I went on honeymoon in 2006, I took 14 bikinis. Yes, 14. And a swimming costume. And 2 tankinis. 3 sarongs. 4 coverups. And that's only the swimwear. We were only away for 2 weeks; some days I changed 4 times. It was fabulous.

Yet, recently I've been stuck in a sartorial rut. A combination of stress, no time and weight gain has left me wearing the same pair of jeans and uber-comfy wooly pullys. I'm at a place in my life where it's hard to imagine when I'll be slipping out in my amazing platform-stripper-boots and that suede mini skirt. Am I {gasp} now too old to wear such items? Should I store 'em or ship 'em...or chuck 'em?

Friends say I'll buy lots of new exciting stuff while I'm out there. So in every drawer there are a million decisions to be made. When I said I was creating a hill of clothes, actually it's more acurate to say there are 3 hills: US-bound, storage and charity shop. Shag, Marry or Chuck off a Cliff. Currently, it's safe to say I'm doing a lot of shagging.

Brain Too Full

The thing is, when I haven't written for a little while I forget that I can do it. I haven't written for about 2 months now and that part of my brain is only just beginning to kick back into action. There's only so much that I can hold in my head at one time. Running my business, preparing to sell my business, the move to the States and all that's associated with it...that's enough for now. I cannot wait until I have the time and head-space to start writing again! I'm fair aching to write, but there are not enough hours in the day and I just have to jolly well wait, like the patient girl I'm not.

So the proposed meeting with the Agent Who Quite Likes My Book hasn't happened yet. It was supposed to be this week, but for reasons I'm not at liberty to explain here it has been postponed. Nothing I can do about that; it's frustrating but there's no way round it. Nuff said.

On the America move, I'm busy stuffing myself with Britishness while I still can. I'm stockpiling Marmite, Tetley's tea and Dairy Milk chocolate to take, and packing my Spaced, Blackadder and Monty Python box sets for when I want a bit of home. I love the States and am so grateful for the opportunity to live there for a while, but I get the feeling that I will really miss the BBC, British accents and Balti. Still, I'm not going to fret about it. 2 years without hearing a Cor Blimey or Why Aye Man isn't going to kill me, and I'm sure Boston has a curry house.

So much to do! Must get packing them boxes!

Still here...just!

A belated Happy Christmas and Happy New Year!

Oh lordy, I can't believe that I haven't blogged for a month...well, actually I can as it's been a crazy time. It actually feels weird to be sitting here typing again; I haven't written anything in the last 6 or 7 weeks and my fingers have forgotten how to do it.

Anyway, the news in brief:

1 Work has been insane. I've been producing a pantomime for my theatre company and the hours have been really, really long. I've felt exhausted since mid-November and have had quite a lot of travelling and mucho stress. I've even had to go on stage as an understudy for one of my actors who was rushed to hospital. It was a terrifying 48 hours of worry over my actress and being utterly freaked out over having to act again after several years of working behind the scenes. Anyway, good news is she's ok again and I'm back behind the scenes again! I actually enjoyed being on stage once I was in the middle of it, but I will never forget the fear I felt beforehand! I used to take this in my stride, god how things have changed!

2 I've been really quite poorly. Not anything major, but enough to make me take to my bed - tonsillitis, cold-turning-into-flu. I'm still not completely over it, it's been over 3 weeks now and I feel utterly SHENT and a bit old.

3 BIG NEWS!! The Agent Who Might Be Interested (see previous posts) is still interested and wants to meet me! Aaargh! Very exciting.
I wouldn't say she's been particularly effusive about my book, but she has said that she feels it has potential. She thinks some of it needs work, so I guess she's going to suggest a bit of a rewrite, which I suppose is all part of the normal way of things. Will keep you posted.

4 Just to redress the balance, I had another rejection from another agent!

5 BIG NEWS AGAIN!! I'm moving. To the USA. In about 7 weeks.
My husband has been offered a job for 2 years in Boston; it's been a possibility for a few months now but we only got final confirmation just before Christmas. I'm hugely excited, not least because it means I'll be able to WRITE FULL TIME! But it does only give me 7 weeks to sell my business (impossible, but I need to get the wheels in motion), pack up our lives and ship/store/sell our belongings, rent out our flat in London whilst working at the day job and trying to keep my writing up! (How the hell I'm going to manage to do rewrites for the agent in the midst of all of this - heaven knows - but I guess you find a way, huh?) I'm so nervous about getting everything done, and I'm really unsure as to how this might affect my chances of signing with an agent in the UK. More about all of that in another post...

So that's the catch up! I'll post more on each soon, but now I MUST do my bloody tax return before my accountant has a coronary.