The Tenacious Yuletide Greeting.

I received this on email today, so please accept this as The Tenacious Towers Yuletide card. This is as good as it gets.  Mwah. x

*I would love to be able to credit this but I can't make out who it's by. Sorry!*

Procrastinating my NaNoWriMo off...

Along with all the fantastic pep talks sent through from NaNoWriMo HQ (as previously mentioned), there are also a great deal of dedicated ways to procrastinate - including an entire Procrastination Station where you can choose what to faff around with on a particular day.  

I must say I steeled myself against looking at any of these escapes whilst battling my way through the novel but now I'm done...I've really been enjoying myself.  Here's one, for  example, and knowing me as you do peeps, you'll already have guessed I had this lined up in my brain:

If your novel was a  movie, what song would play during the credits?

EASY!

Opening Credits  - "Je t'aime moi non plus'" - Serge Gainsbourg & Jane Birkin

Closing Credits  "Fairytale of New York"  - The Pogues/ Kirsty MacCall 

And then of course, the ultimate in procrastination - the book cover!

I must credit the delightfully talented Natalie Paquette for the beautiful photograph I have used in the book cover design. Now and again, I drop by Natalie's online gallery - FetishFaerie - since I stumbled upon her on deviantART a while ago. Her photos create stories of their own without the need for any words, and they always have such a rich, luxuriant "visual feel".  Stunning - and thanks again, Natalie!

Anyway, this is all so much fun: and then the re-writing starts...arf.  Must remind myself to update my word count again after the 25th November otherwise I wouldn't be deemed as having officially finished... and that would be a tad annoying, n'est pas?

Chapter One will be projecting itself onto the walls of Tenacious Towers pretty soon, as I thought it might be quite nice for the villagers to see the written word rather than just the usual three mile tangle of fairy lights that entwine the turrets every Christmas...

Until then - onwards.

x

It's Snowing...

As I watch the fluttering snowflakes falling outside, this seems a very appropriate moment to carry out the tag order served by Elinor...

List the top five ways you distract yourself when you should be writing and then procrastinate some more by sending it to all those other writers who should really procrastinate more often (so we can all catch-up!).

Here they are:

1. Watching snow falling/drifting (if not outside my window then via Alpine webcams) - a creative, visual release
2. TV - could be seen as indirect research
3. Gardening - it does actually help me rationalise plot holes/issues
4. FaceAche - doesn't help anything
5. Doing these memes/tags - ditto
   

Anyone who is reading this, hasn't completed the task and wishes to procrastinate - consider yourself tagged.

As for me - having been gardening most of the day and now in front of the TV completing this tag, I'm just going to check into FaceBook and then watch the snow fall again. :0)

Blogging is Good For You

I don't know if any of you listen to Simon Mayo on BBC Radio 5 Live but I generally like to try and catch up most days with who is promoting their recently released book/film/album etc.

This Wednesday, RTD and Benjamin Cook were talking about "Doctor Who: The Writer's Tale" - which I haven't yet read, but I think I may grab a copy (or ask Santa nicely) - but I digress, and that's really unusual for me on a Friday (Thursday, Wednesday, Tuesday, Monday...). Anyway, if you listen to the interview, about half way through RTD not only recommends the BBC Writers Room for getting your stuff read, but also checking out the Blogosphere and the writer/bloggers online who are all in touch with each other - better known to us lot as the Scribosphere. So you see,  this blog malarkey is not that bad a procrastination tool. Honest.

If you want to listen to the interview (or others from this week) there is a listen again facility for the past week's programmes and also podcasts of the main 'arts' interviews (which I think are available to download for a week after the tx?).  The RTD/Benjamin Cook podcast can be found on this page.

I bid you all a good weekend - personally, I'm going to get on with the Kiddie TV Project interspersed with autumn garden tidying, so catch up soon.

Have a laugh and help a ProdCo!

I promised I would post this info up for newly acquired blog follower, Owyn Stephens.

It's an unusual fundraiser on 23rd October at the Half Moon Pub, Herne Hill. Described as "a completely insane and unique, one-off impro fundraiser night to help get a new television and film production company on its feet. 'Go Dodo Productions' aim is to produce and encourage fresh, new writing, acting and directing talent - which can only be a good thing!"

So, if you fancy a bit of mad comedy, would like to mingle with a bunch of actors, writers, directors, casting peeps et al, then get yourself there.  Here's the info you need:

IMPRO COMEDY NIGHT - HALLOWEEN SPECIAL at The Half Moon Pub in Herne Hill. 

Hosted by Satan himself, come and see a ghoulish group of hilarious, professional impro comedians fight to save their souls in this fast paced battle of wits. A devilish mix of classic favourites and brand new, never-seen-before game mayhem. Plus a private screening of Go Dodo's acclaimed spooky short, STORAGE. With all this, music and private bar, you would have to be a saint to miss out!

DATE: Thurs October 23rd 
TIME: Doors open 7.30pm for an 8.30pm start
COST: £6 on the door
VENUE: Half Moon Pub, 10 Half Moon Lane, Herne Hill, SE24 9HU

TRAVEL DETAILS: 
HERNE HILL STATION (Zone 2) is a 10 minutes train journey from Victoria or Blackfriars stations. Turn left outside the train station, walk under the rail bridge and we are directly on your right - literally thirty seconds from the station! The last train home leaves Herne Hill at 23.35 and arrives at Victoria Station at 23:44. (See http://www.halfmoonpub.co.uk/contact.php for further travel and venue details)

For further info on Go Dodo Productions click here  

Song Meme

I have recently been infected with the song meme by both luscious Lucy (who I think may have created this one?) and the contagious Mr Campbell . 

Instructions are as follows: “Find a song that sums up what you think it means to be a writer and post the lyrics on your blog and why you've chosen it. NB: It doesn't have to be your favourite song, it just has to express how you feel about writing and/or being a writer. It can be literal, metaphorical, about a particular form or aspect of writing - whatever you want. Then tag 5 others to do the same (reprint these instructions).”

My original choice was "Right Said Fred" (Rudge/Dick) as there is nothing like popping the kettle on every two minutes when you're meant to be writing. However, not only did that Mr Campbell pass on his meme bugs, he snaffled my choice before I managed to write this post. 

Now, unlike Mr Campbell and other scribes, when I write I listen to music virtually all the time - the songs become kind of like a soundtrack to the piece I am putting together, I guess. But that didn't help me out with this meme, so I have really had to think long and hard about it.

I suppose my final choice underlines the depth of emotion with which I fall in love/in hate with the writing I undertake at any time - that all encompassing magnetic draw of pen to paper, fingers to keyboard; the waking dreams about scenes that work and the nightmares when they don't; the feeling of absolute hell-bent necessity to spend time with the words already on the page or cajoling those about to be written.  It's like the hottest of illicit affairs, and the product of all those long nights is the finished written project - the baby, if you like.  

Anyway, if you haven't done this yourself yet, then consider yourself memed, buddy.  Here's my choice!  

Over and out. x

The Man with the Child in His Eyes (Kate Bush)

I hear him, before I go to sleep
And focus on the day thats been.
I realise he's there,
When I turn the light off and turn over.

Nobody knows about my man.

They think he's lost on some horizon.
And suddenly I find myself
Listening to a man I've never known before,

Telling me about the sea,
All his love, til eternity.

Ooh, he's here again,
The man with the child in his eyes.
Ooh, he's here again,
The man with the child in his eyes.

He's very understanding,
And he's so aware of all my situations.
And when I stay up late,
He's always waiting, but I feel him hesitate.

Oh, I'm so worried about my love.
They say, no, no, it wont last forever.
And here I am again, my girl,
Wondering what on earth I'm doing here.
Maybe he doesn't love me.
I just took a trip on my love for him.

Ooh, he's here again,
The man with the child in his eyes.
Ooh, he's here again,
The man with the child in his eyes.

And here's the video:

Emm, Emm, Aaaargh!

Today I had that awful feeling of: if I didn't - I was a bad mother; if I did - I was also a bad mother.  I am talking the combined MMR vaccination here, and in the pending wake of an epidemic (or was it going to be a pandemic?), I figured I should be The Bad Mother Who Chose To Vaccinate.  So The Kid is in bed and we've only had one wake up so far to report (just the usual dropped dummy).  However, I did notice he had a feint rash across his cheeks along with a chipmunk-like look.  It could of course be my imagination, which I am sure is going to run riot for the next few weeks.  Elinor has suggested Calpol and Wine, though I'm not sure they taste so good mixed.  You never know, it could be the next Red Bull & Vodka.  I'll let you know.

Talking of drinking - sorry, I meant talking of talking - I had a lovely afternoon in the fantastic company of Far Away, Potdoll & Helen on Saturday and what started out as a very calm, civilised 'coffee and cake' turned into a hysterically funny meeting of the minds (and livers). Think Women's Institute morphs into Coyote Ugly and you're vaguely moving in the right direction.

Right. Back to work I go.  Enough procras for one evening. Laters.

Friday Laugh

Can't believe it's Friday already.  Here's another funny video to ease you into the weekend. Have a good one, all.

Wrath of the Edit Suite

A friend just emailed me this and I had to share it with you all.  Quite the best laugh I've had a for a while.  ;)

My goodness...

I have tried my hardest - and usually failed - to keep up to date with everyone else's blogs, but from what I have read, it looks like everyone has been really busy in cyberscribospace. I deeply apologise for the extreme lack of updates from this end. I am still alive - I think.

It's been manic. A learning curve. A waking nightmare. A total headf***. But he's gorgeous all the same. However, I have discovered the perils of having a baby - he has a social diary like I have never, ever had myself:

Monday - 'rest day' [i.e. yoga with Mummy, playmat with Mummy, singing with Mummy, repeatedly making silly noises with Mummy, sensory book time with Mummy, shopping with Mummy, cleaning with Mummy, hanging out the washing with Mummy, gardening with Mummy, "This Morning" with Phillip & Fern (and Mummy).]
Tuesday - Massage class (Baby Massage, of course)
Wednesday - Swimming class
Thursday - ante-natal mates coffee & cakes/general moan session/babies all cry together etc
Friday - Music class

Other times are taken up with the 'rest day' agenda - all of which are carried out in five minute intervals as The Kid doesn't have much patience beyond that. Notice I have dropped the Colic from his name? Well, he still suffers but it's mainly reflux-related. At one point, after a fairly terrible day of chaos everywhere we went, I christened him The 'Colic, Reflux And Pandemonium' Kid. However, I fear sticking to that acronym would create an unfair tag for his future, methinks.

At our Baby Massage class the other day, The Mothers were discussing when they were planning on going back to work: January for some, May for others, the rest in between. The thing is, I don't feel as though I have stopped to be honest. I have a little notebook next to my bed which is full of feed times, feed amounts, reflux times and nappy contents - the description that is, not the actual contents. At the other end of the aforementioned notebook, however, are pages and pages of one-liners, character notes, vague and not-so-vague story outlines, random ideas, snippets of dialogue, great 'newly discovered' words to use and a complete outline for a book which is, as I type, like my boy, in it's early infancy. There was some sort of method in my midnight madness when I decided to keep both in the same notebook - there is no way in the world I would lose the Sh*t, Eat and Sleep Log, so there's no way to lose the writing notes either. Smart l'il me. I also generally have a spare dummy attached to my mobile or purse these days. Ditto, not losing either. I always know where the dummy is.

So, The Kid - he's good. Looks more like a two year old, has been randomly teething for a month now, has a false 'look at me NOW!' cry, laughs uncontrollably at me when he wakes during the night (really not funny...) is desperately trying to walk, has a favourite toy he named Bebo, has finished his third PhD and probably logs into Facebook when I'm not watching. I have some great new photos, some of which I will upload soon for all the cyberaunts and uncs to see - I'm just waiting for his replica cover of Nirvana's 'Nevermind' to arrive. He is quite taken with TV - the little guy really knows what he likes - but I fear he may end up the youngest ever Daytime TV Controller. Now, don't get me wrong, he liked Ruth and Eamonn over the summer but as soon as he heard Phillip and Fern's voices again after their return from summer break, his little face lit up.

You know, coming to think of it, maybe he didn't shout "Bebo" at his toy all those weeks ago. Perhaps it was BBC?

Hope you're all well.

Live From Mars

I'm convinced.

This morning I woke up to find I had crossed into my dual universe. I have made a quantum leap and didn't even try very hard. Everyone looks the same, hell, they even sound the same, but other than The Glenster and Millie The Cat (who seem to have remained normal), some strange shift has occurred.

No mail was delivered this morning. This was the first indication that all was not what it seemed. We always get mail - even if it is just one of those useless bundles of 'Revolutionary Home Helpers TM' crap that Postpeople get paid extra to indirectly stuff into our recycling boxes. But never mind, I thought, and off we went to the hospital for 09:30 for my 'final' scan and appointment with The Consultant. We arrived at the antenatal dept like so many times before, but this time I was accosted for a sample. Now, I have never had to provide one before (other than for my normal midwife visits) so I was a little confused. The midwife/nurse person slammed against her seat, totally aghast, thrusted an empty sample bottle into my hand and flicked me towards the door and toilets. There's nothing like peeing on demand.

Although I was the second appointment of the day, I counted 4 other couples going in to see The Consultant in front of me. Maybe I was doing one of my invisibility tricks? The Consultant eventually saw me at 11:00. We did all the niceties, but The Consultant seemed a little different to normal, almost a shell of his usual self; I had my blood pressure checked (another thing that has never happened on a 'Consultant visit'), and then up on the couch for the final scan. The measurements still indicated a larger than average baby with ridiculously long legs, and the CCAM on the baby's lung, although not regressed totally, was still pretty small. Good stuff.

Then the Seven Dimensional Einsteinian Hyperspherical Universe nodded it's head: did I want to pick a date for induction now, or wait for my next appointment with The Consultant? Exsqueeze me? Next appointment - that's when I'm due, surely? Induction? Possible Caesarean? WTF? Have I been living on another planet for the last 35+ weeks? Obviously.

The induction is mainly for the safety of the baby, which I can go with, but as I have always reckoned I'll be early anyway, I have never considered it. Now I am determined to have this baby early.

I'm off to do some research into ways of encouraging the little blighter out before the NHS Army wage 'The War Of The Bump' on me. If anyone knows any old wives tales', helpful tips, safe ways of ensuring an early birth (all after 37 weeks), please feel free to comment below.

I can't believe it's only lunchtime.

More Procrastination Needed?

Obviously, far more time-wasting games are required in this cyber world of writing.

Click on this link for another five or so minutes well spent.

WARNING: this game is addictive and no responsibility is taken for unfinished drafts, half written outlines, confused character breakdowns or gelatinous log-lines.

It's Bank Holl-eee-day

Only click on this link if you wish to procrastinate more than normal. You have been warned.

A Very Annoying Little Game