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Perpetually Pipped to the Post August 10, 2008

Posted by Jen in : Haiku, Journal, Novel, Photos , 33 comments

Oh dear. Time has been teasing me again. I wish it wouldn’t though I suspect it persists simply because the bastard always catches me out.

So. The re-write for RNA New Writers Wotsit critique. I had a very good idea. Instead of extreme re-writing (performed wearing helmet and reinforced bra) I decided that I would de-crappify it enough not to be embarrassing and then, ta-da, re-write properly after slating critique to mend the bits that had been torn apart. Genius or what?

Unfortunately, I’d forgotten that I’m not called obsessive-compulsive-nitpicking-pain-in-the-arse for nothing. I have to throw myself off the precipice of perfection, otherwise I feel I’ve copped out. Always do the positive thing. My glass is never half empty. I fill it up before that point. Not as daft as I look, me.

So. Two weeks to re-write an entire novel? Can it be done? Who knows. I’ll die trying though. Well, I won’t because I’ve just signed up for a Travel and Type travel writing course. Two days after I come back from a jaunt to Jersey. And having discovered that there are no decent travel guides about Jersey. And I am a Jersey girl. Going back after five years with fresh eyes. Do you see where I’m going with this? Mmmmm, just taste the synchronicity (man) (she said happily but hippily).

I’ve been Thinking Thoughts. And I plan to make the most of them before I discover that someone else is doing them too, as is often the way with trickiness of time and Putting Things Off.

I had an idea, a while ago, that a haiku and photo to mark each day would be rather spiffing. And then it transpired that Rachel had been doing it all along and, actually, far better than I can. I doff my cap to her. But I’m not planning to doff my cap to anyone else. I am fired up. Raaaaaah. See? My dad’s not known for his philosophy but he said to me once: ‘You’ll be alright, you’re a Grihault.’ A Grihault, a proper Jersey Bean, writing about her return to the rock? There’s gotta be some mileage in that, don’t you think?

No cartoons today. I’m getting serious about stuff. Sorry about that.

The stream chatters on,

unaware of its journey

into tomorrow.

Of Feeble Photographic Frenzies July 9, 2008

Posted by Jen in : Journal, Photos , 26 comments

Jolly good then. Photography course finished, portfolio submitted. Well, when I say portfolio, I do of course mean a set of ten surprisingly rubbish and random photos, edited and snappily titled. ‘Sky in Saucer’, anyone? (It’s a play on words, see, rhymes with flyin’ saucer. Geddit? No, me neither.) I was quite pleased with my whizzy titles until I bothered to read the guidelines which said ‘do not give images whizzy titles’ or somesuch. I’m glad I read that. After I’d submitted the rotten bloody thing. Yay.

So. Some lucky clever-clogs will get to peruse, amongst others, a ghostly, aging, sepia-toned local cottage, mainly obscured by a hedge; my new music stand; some honeysuckle wot I squirted wiv a squirter; some bits of deckchair in the dark. Oh yes, I bet they can’t wait.

My one example of being experimental, however, got the best feedback from No. 2 Son.

“Oh dear, Mitzy, what have you done to it?”

So, back the writing. Thank goodness for that eh? I’m feeling cheery that it’s done despite the fact that, now that I no longer need to be sellotaped the PC or coursework, the outside world appears to have become some film set for the re-making of Noah’s Ark.

To celebrate my joy, I am singing Ronan Keating songs in the style of Pavarotti. This sounds rather like Pavarotti with a peg on his nose, singing quite crap songs. I knew you were wondering.

Go go go GO! June 24, 2008

Posted by Jen in : Journal, Photos , 26 comments

I went to The London on Saturday to see the Queen. Sadly, she was out at her weekly darts match. Shame really, I’ve heard she has Rich Tea and everything.

Luckily, all was not lost. We had tickets to see Joseph and plans for a pre-theatre grub-up at a carefully selected but unbooked restaurant. I was a little bit excited. I absolutely love going into London; despite it only being an hour or so away on the choo-choo, it’s a million miles from this sleepy village and the workplace chickens and agricultural oddities which make up my life.

Now, I am not very organised. I was also sadly born without any sense of direction whatsoever. Luckily, lovely bf has grandiose ideas now and again of being a Proper Man and Looks at Things on Maps.

We marched about for an hour or so, him looking at The Map and me randomly stopping to exercise my camera and making people tut.

Love bf started to grumble. ‘It’ll be closed down by the time we get there,’ he growled.

Hmmm.

I know I’m a sap for those telly programmes that can turn you into a West End star, celebrity chef or brain surgeon in 10 weeks. But when Lee Mead floated majestically onto the stage, I couldn’t help but cry. Look at me, I’m living my dream, his smile beamed. Tears burst out of my eyes even now, just thinking about it.

Writing is my dream. In France, with just enough money for food, books and wine without worrying.  It’s good to have something to strive for, no matter what it is or how impossible it seems. Any Dream Will Do, as Andrew Lloyd Wurlitzer would say. I guess it’s time to pull my finger out. Still miffed about the Queen’s biscuits though. Don’t worry, by the way. I’m not going to start boring you to death with photos (much).

So what’s your dream? Your real ‘if I had one wish’ dream? I’ve been Thinking Things and feel something fascinating happening. I’m intrigued to know what you think you would really change your life and make it perfect for you. You can leave a comment anonymously. I feel a project coming on…