Where does time go?

Hello from the other side.  The other side of 25,000 words that is.

It's been a strange week for me - 

1. I've had The Kid with a blood filled mouth and bleeding nose after falling on the floor and impaling his lower lip with three top teeth, his upper gum with two lower teeth and bashing his nose all at the same time (and yes, I panicked. A lot.); 
   
2. I've said "Ta-ra 'til the New Year" to my Mummy dearest, who's off to play the campest Evil Queen Snow White will ever have come across in Pantoland;   
   
3. I've cleared up little pools of sick, after The Cat ate one of The Kid's errant grapes (I think) ; 
   
4. I've cleared up so many leaves from the Tenacious Towers' grounds I am beginning to think they breed on the floor of the vast orchard; 
   
5. I've been shocked at how much Anton du Beke is gradually morphing into Brucie;  
   
6. I've been avidly watching our graciously returned Sky 1 (that didn't take too long did it Virgin..?) in the vain hope that something else other than 'Ross Kemp on Everything' will be on.

But just for a laugh, I've also partaken in that old game "half fall/half slide down the stairs" whilst rushing to grab The Kid's teddy for cuddles.

On the up side, I didn't fall completely as I had grabbed onto the bannister; on the down side, I grabbed with the arm that had previously been privy to a dislocated shoulder so writing has been interesting.  I also crushed two toes on one of the spindley thingies. Ouch. Obviously, my utter silence as I limped down the stairs spoke louder than any words, as The Kid said "Uh-oh" and pulled out the chenille throw which is reserved for cold winter nights, illness and /or injury cuddles.  In amongst all this madness and mayhem, I have of course be slotting in keyboard hammering flashes, where I sit talking to myself like a demented mad woman, and create NaNoWriMo stylee.

Having now passed 36,000 words, I am onto the fourth (and final) part of "Taking the Fast Lane", which seems incredible - not the novel, but just the feat!  It's been a fascinating journey to sit down with nothing and create something.  Obviously still being at least 14,000 words off, I am hoping it won't be too rough a ride.  The whole NaNoWriMo experience so far has been brilliant  and has been made even better by the Pep Talk emails we receive. So far we've had wise words from Philip Pullman, Jonathan Stroud, Katherine Paterson, Meg Cabot and many from NaNoWriMo founder, Chris Baty at HQ.  If you are interested in reading any of the pep talks they are available online here.

I was also able to breathe a sigh of relief on Friday when a fairly hefty envelope from Screen East plopped in the letter box advising me (one envelope, four separate letters inside) that each of my screenplays had been received and logged.  I had started to panic a bit as four Royal Mail bags full of post had been found abandoned in a field in my area - and of course I had convinced myself my screenplays were in there...the acknowledgement letters weren't due until Friday, but I had nonetheless convinced myself my creations were being sifted by CID for prints.  Or something.

Anyway, if I get short listed for an interview then I should know early December.  If I am successful after the interview, it'll be a great Christmas, I tell you.  

Right, before cracking on with a few more pages of the novel, I'm off to see who out of the "Celebrity" jungle inmates, has had the most surgery.  Hmmm. Let me think....

I am loving the Red London Bus - it must have been dumped there after the closing ceremony in Beijing.

Onwards.

It's in the Post

Well, that's that, then - half a ream of paper filled up with my words, observations and nonsense is now pounding it's way to Screen East in Norwich.  

I started printing this morning and have only just managed to get to the Post Office, but this was mainly down to my printer not playing ball well enough when it came to the mock-up posters I had to produce as part of my submission.  

After a few arguments with myself about quality control, I went out to my local printy-place and the nice man printed my posters off. As I was admiring how posh they looked, he was looking rather confused at the poster for Brad Pitt's Pants - one of my screenplay subs.  I asked if there was a problem and he replied he couldn't remember modelling for me.  Funny man.  In your dreams.

When I returned home, Cat had been having a brilliant time playing with her sparkly toy balls. Unfortunately for me, she had obviously been running after her toys at top speed, couldn't stop on the wooden floor and had slid straight into my neat little piles of Screen East printouts on the floor, scattering everything everywhere.  After a few choice words, and fishing her toys out from the papers, I then had to reprint six story outlines which had been screwed up against the desk and/or slashed by her claws.  Little f*cker. 

Anyway, it's all gone now and as I said, that's that.  

Next...?

Ah, yes, had a meeting yesterday about a new kids TV series which I am really looking forward to collaborating on - that'll be taking up a bit of my time from now, but at least I have practically finished my Christmas shopping: I gave myself the weekend off, remember?!

Whilst I am thinking about it, I emailed a peep at the Beeb yesterday for info on the new "rolling commission" protocol they are introducing for CBeebies which will be coming into force in January 2009.  All subs will now be via e-Commissioning (all info HERE) and full guidelines on the rolling commission will be released early in the new year, so if you have any children's TV submissions then keep your eyes on the CBeebies Commissioning area.

Bye for now. x

Working Girl

I'm beginning to believe I live a very surreal life.  Scrub that.  I do live a very surreal life.  Take the previous day as an example.  

In the last 24 hours I have interviewed Kris Marshall, Robert Webb, Ella Smith, Neil LaBute, Joanna Page (I also competed with her for oxygen stakes due to similar high levels of hyperactivity), chatted to Alison Steadman, Gok Wan, Ruth Jones & Mackenzie Crook to name but a few, nodded a 'smiley nod' or two to the very kind paps who let me stick my microphone into their pics, arrived home in one piece, managed around 4 solid hours' sleep, then proceeded to wipe/pick weetabix/scrambled egg/bread/milk off my clothes/out of my hair at various intervals, moments of which were also interspersed with changing nappies and cleaning up fur balls.  Confused?  Hell, I hardly know where I'm at these days, let alone you.

Let me explain.  It's all down to my new 'job' - at least the interviews and chats are, not necessarily the food/nappy/fur ball stuff which are all down to The Kid and Cat respectively - at least I think it was in that order.  I digress.  Anyway, I am now presenting & interviewing for Theatre 24/7, an online theatre channel who cover previews/premieres of West End musicals and plays.  

So, after 'Marguerite' last week, last night was the turn of 'Fat Pig', written and directed by Neil LaBute and the second in his trilogy of plays.  There was certainly a clutch of hardcore crits there last night so I'm sure the reviews will be going to press soon (if not already).  Personally I really enjoyed the show - funny but uncomfortable, self-conscious but brazen - however, I'm not the critic here, just the talky girl. All I'll say is go see it for some terrific writing and classic performances.

And on that note, I'm now going to put in a classic performance of a person sleeping heavily. Not like a baby, I'll add - whoever coined that phrase should be shot.  Or given a baby to look after for a night or so.

Until next time.