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Literal Confession September 30, 2007

Posted by Jen in : Bits and Pieces , 15 comments

I usually quite like being tagged for memes so I thought some jolly thoughts when JJ tagged me for a booky one. And then I looked at my bookshelves and flushed with shame. Oh, bugger - why aren’t I highbrow and clever and learned? My shelves overflow with books on cookery, meditation, Reiki, poetry, writing, grammar – where are my weighty tomes of classics? Oh dear… confession time…

Total number of books

Um… a few hundred, I guess. I really am a book junkie but I can’t bear to leave fab books on the shelf. When I’ve particularly loved a book, I tend to pass it on to someone I hope will enjoy it as much as I did. ‘In Search of Adam’ has just winged (wung?) its way to my sis in Holland. At least that always means there’s room on the bookshelves for more. I really should join the library but then there’s always the worry that I’ll dunk their books in the bath or, even worse, someone else has read the book in the bath, equally naked. The ‘old lady’ smell of library books is also off-putting too. Ugh.


Last book read

Oh God, I’m awful. Once I’ve finished a book, that’s it – gone from memory! Kate Harrison’s The Self-Preservation Society was a recent one that I enjoyed (and remember!). I’m currently alternating between Paulo Coelho’s Like the Flowing River and Lisa Jewell’s Vince and Joy. I’m looking forward to reading Toast by Nigel Slater next. I like biographies and, until I started writing myself, read very little in the way of fiction for years.


Last book bought

Gordon Ramsey’s ‘Sunday Lunch’, yesterday in WHSmith. I didn’t mean to visit WHSmiths or buy books. It was an accident.


5 meaningful books

Enid Blyton’s Famous Five series was a biggie for me. I desperately wanted to be George. Best of all, Number 1 son enjoyed the Famous Five and I managed to find the entire series in the same 70s paperback covers that I’d read, complete with curling, brown, fusty pages (that smelt of old ladies).

‘Heidi’ by Johanna Spyrie. And ‘What Katy Did’ by Susan Coolridge. I liked stories about girls in strange places. I suppose that, as a very shy child living on the small rock of Jersey, everything seemed exciting. I was rarely naughty as a child which would explain my adoration of the ‘Just William’ books (Richmal Crompton) too.

 

One book that I’ve read and re-read many times since I was a teenager is ‘Roots‘ by Alex Haley. I guess it was one of the first adult books I tackled. It just struck me as really powerful and honest. Must read it again one day soon.

‘The Five People You Meet in Heaven‘ – Mitch Albom. Kind of conveyed lots of things that I believed but had never seen put into story form before. Everyone should read this book, I think.

Ok, you can have a good laugh now but, well, I am something of a closet hippy. And on that note, I’m going to round off this bizarre list with The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield). Yes. I really do believe in all that stuff. Yes. I am a total flake.

So now you know.

I’m going to tag… Betamum, La Que Sabe and Rebecca.


Of Domestic Despair September 27, 2007

Posted by Jen in : Domestic Doings, Journal , 13 comments

I frightened the dog this morning. He seems to have a strange idea of what is and what is not acceptable. I wasn’t doing anything terrible.

‘Come on, you big fat bastard,’ I was shouting. At Henry. The hoover.

Sigh.

I have yet another estate agent prancing round the house. I have been up since 5.30 and so far have: hoovered whole house (with thin end to make hoover swirls), picked up array of clothing from various floors, washed and hung out a load of washing, breakfasted children, made packed lunches, shouted at Number 2 son X 3 to put a key in his bag so that he can get in after school while I am with Number 1 son at orthodontist getting his mouth cranked open. I am now trying to arrange my features into a semblance of pleasantness for the strange man stomping up and down my clean stairs in his grubby, plasticky, slip-on shoes.

I registered with a temp agency yesterday. I can’t wait to get a job. Being at home is far too tiring.

I have, however, broken the 60% barrier on the novel. Will write a few more words once the asphyxiation caused by the estate agent’s aftershave has worn off…

Grumpy? Hormonal? Me?


 


Blogging about Blagging September 24, 2007

Posted by Jen in : Journal , 18 comments

Dear oh dear. I am shameless, I really am.

Lovely bf took me out for an airing on Friday night. In the nearby town of Heathfield lies a glowing oasis of Indian yumminess: Café Rasoi. And what did I do, as the second bottle of wine went down? I asked for a copy of the menu and told them I was writing a review. I even started Writing Things in my notebook. At this point, lovely bf was trying to hide under the table with understandable shame.

‘Ah, who are you writing the review for’? asked the owner.

‘Oh, it’s for a national website,’ I blagged.

Lovely bf emerged from beneath the table at this point to give an amazing display of open-mouthed head-shaking and eye-rolling.

Oh dear. How embarrassing. But, what the heck, I’m going to write one now. Just you wait and see.

I probably won’t mention my concern at having to park in the Co-op car park. It was very dark and creepy and I was worried that I would be stabbed to death on my return.

People would be terribly disappointed if I were killed to death in a Co-op car park. It should have at least been a Waitrose car park, what with her being such an upmarket kind of bird, they will think sadly.

I’m not sure lovely bf will be taking me out in public again for a while.

AA Gill, eat your heart out.

Friday Frenzy September 21, 2007

Posted by Jen in : Journal , 16 comments

Well, who’d have thought? It’s Friday again. How did that happen? I think today is going to be a nice sort of Friday. Frothy clouds are rushing skittishly across the sky in a way that suggests the day’s going to whizz by. Lots to do before the clouds blend into the night.

The week has been, um, interesting. I made a tragic mistake yesterday. I ventured out to Sainsburys in Hastings. Oh. My. God. I have never seen so many pension-crazed, dusty old dears in all my life. Where do they come from? They obviously spend the rest of the week in some quasi-dimension where half-mast polyester trousers and alarmingly pointy drawn-on, jet-black eyebrows are acceptable.

I’m sure they’d be clacking their ill-fitting dentures at me, though, if they spotted me jaunting to the train station in my pyjamas. Horses for courses, eh? Actually, I have no idea what that phrase even means. Seemed the right place for it though.

I feel a little potty today, can you tell? Carol has come up with a most splendiferous idea and I’m fit to burst with excitement. In that brilliantly karmic thing that pops up and smacks you in the chops now and again, it has brought me full circle to what I initially wanted to do with my writing yonks ago.

In a moment, I shall be striding through the fields, Having Thoughts and waving my arms around in a writerly, inspired manner.  No more sloping about miserably for me.  Well, maybe tomorrow.

And, to round off my day of madness, I am being treated to a meal at an Indian which, apparently, boasts the best bog in Britain. Who could ask for more than that, eh?

Of Living in Limbo September 18, 2007

Posted by Jen in : Journal , 34 comments

Hmmm. I’m feeling a little on the quiet side at the mo. I have lots of things in my head. Sadly the things that should be there are missing, shoved out of the way by a billion and three things that are stressing me out.

I am running out of money. I know, living on fluff and Marmite should be a doddle as a starving artist type shivering away in her garret. But I’m not very good at being deprived. It gives me a rumbly tumbly and affects my frowning department. I am torn between writing short stories and articles in the hope that I’ll earn enough to remain non-working long enough to finish my novel. But. There’s no guarantee, is there, that my efforts won’t all be rejected and I will have also wasted the novel-writing time and still have to find a job? It’s seems a no-win situation.

Also. I am still on a diet. This, in itself, would not be a problem. But. My fat clothes are now a little on the large side and my non-fat clothes are still somewhat life-threatening due to my inability to breathe while wearing them.

Also. I have spent all weekend a-scrubbing ‘n’ a-cleaning. My bloomin, buggering landlady has decided that the time may have come to sell my house. Needless to say, I am far too poor to buy it.

So. The upshot of this ramble is that I am frequently naked or wrapped in cling film due to non-fitting of clothes and imminent onset of winter. I may soon be homeless as well as cold and nearly-naked. I still haven’t finished my novel or found a job.

I have therefore installed a sanity and hypothermia-saving ‘donation’ button at the bottom of the gubbins on the right hand side. If there are any millionaires reading this who would like to contribute to the arts by enabling me to remain non-working a smidge longer to finish said novel, feel free. I have nothing to offer in return other than my undying love and the promise of a free signed copy of the novel if/when it is published. Think of it as sponsorship. It would make you feel nice.  Really.

For mere non-millionaire mortals, feel free to contribute the cost of a glass of wine should you get the urge. You wouldn’t want me to dehydrate on top of all my other miseries, would you??

Until all my crises are resolved, I can’t seem to rustle up any enthusiasm for my low-cal pie in the sky writing ambitions. I’m rubbish at being a grown-up.


 


Of Getting a Life September 14, 2007

Posted by Jen in : Journal , 16 comments

Oh. God. Tonight, this very Friday night, I am doing something brave. I am feeling a bit weak and nervy. The reason for this scaredyness? I am venturing beyond the village confines, after dark, to Have Some Fun. Eek.

I am going to a party. There will be alcohol and ‘nibbles’. It will be the first time since mid-July that I’ve actually spoken to anyone apart from the beastly boys, lovely bf or the postman. I will, however, be able to practice talking this morning. I will be talking mainly about what I am doing at the weekend and whether I have any holidays planned. Yes, dear reader, it is time for my twice-yearly hair cut.

Now, the party I’m going to is with some of my ex work colleagues, one of whom is ‘celebrating’ 10 years in Retail Hell. But. I haven’t seen them for 8 weeks. What if they look at me and think things? What if they say I have become fat and feeble and have lost my funny? Because, I sort of think I might have?

So. Grey hairs obliterated. New do will be provided by the finest hair chopper Tunbridge Wells has to offer. Clothes, hmmm. Yes, I will definitely be wearing clothes.  Shame she isn’t having a pyjama party.  I’d be good at that.

I’m a silly goose. These people are my friends. They won’t say anything mean to me. Of course they won’t. They are nice friends. I shall hum a merry tune as I go about my pampering business and try not to worry.

But. They still might think things though. Aaaarrghhh. Perhaps I’m not cut out for the real world anymore?


Virgin on the Ridiculous September 11, 2007

Posted by Jen in : Journal , 16 comments

During my taxi services yesterday, my adorable children began a conversation about what they thought their lives would be like by the time they’re 40.

No 1 Son (13) (in his Brian Blessed voice): Oh, well, I’ll be working really hard and eating out at nice restaurants a lot.

Me: D’you think you’ll be married and have children by then?

No 1 Son: Oh, yes, definitely. Let’s face it - we’re a great joy to you, aren’t we?

I don’t say very much to that bit.

No 2 Son (11): You’re not gonna have kids. You’ll still be a virgin when you’re 40. In fact, you’ll probably be a virgin forever.

No 1: Well, at least I’m likely to find real love – not like you when you’re a “professional footballer” (actually does fingers in the air thing) with your tarty gold diggers.

 

Whatever happened to naivety? It’s another world these days, isn’t it?


 


 

Inspiration Bound September 9, 2007

Posted by Jen in : Journal , 11 comments

Woo! The sun’s shining and I’m sprawled outside with my books and filled inside with oomph. There are two reasons for this:

The Freelance Writer’s Handbook. This is such a good book, written in a no-fluff way which wheedles out potential and possibilities you didn’t know you had. Not aimed towards fiction particularly but essential if, like me, you’re keen on the whole article-writing lark. According to this book, there are over 8,000 magazines on the market in Britain. Why shouldn’t they get their material from us? But once you’ve been filled with creative fizzle, you need to know where to send the fruits of your labours. So…

The Writers’ and Artists’ Yearbook. Jam-packed full of opportunity – markets for writing, lists of societies and some corking articles by the likes of J K Rowling and Alison Baverstock. Jane Green’s fab article rang bells that have been tinkling with me recently. ‘Enlarge your life,’ she says, ‘the more people you meet, the more things you do, the more inspiration will strike.’ She also writes in the belief that every book she writes is ghastly until it’s been read and validated by her publishers. I’m still not sure that helps the fact that I think my half-novel is utter piffle but, hey, it’s encouraging, no?

There’s something biblical about this book; it contains so many of the essential ingredients of being a writer, you feel you can’t fail to make a saleable meal from it.

Writers’ and Artists’ also has a website – brimming with writing/agent snaffling advice and apparently about to be revamped. They’re also running a competition to become their official blogger. Please let it be me. Pretty please?

I’m feeling all ‘up’ today, can you tell? Perhaps I’ll start sleeping with these books under my pillow. I feel I have the tools I need now. I just need to gather up my reserves and get on with it even more than I have been!