If, like me, you are counting down the hours to the final series of Lost, then you may find much to chuckle at in this video. As for me… I’m not holding my breath that I’ll get anything like the answers I’m hoping for. But I don’t mind. It’s still a great show… Utterly bonkers, but great.
It’s funny how stories sometimes march into your head out of nowhere, fully formed and demanding your complete attention. It’s always a double-edged thing – I mean, it’s so exciting… that rush of images, scenes, situations and characters is one of the reasons I love writing. Sometimes these stories just land in your lap in their totality, and sometimes they unfurl before you over minutes or hours. I swear, I feel like a spectator sometimes, just watching these stories emerge and come to life before my eyes, like that rug in Clive Barker’s Weaveworld. Nine times out of ten, these ideas don’t seem quite so exciting in the cold light of the following day. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve woken up at night, scribbled something down in the dark and then looked at it the next day and wondered what the heck I thought was so great about it. But other times, I think you do just have to drop everything and run with these stories… which is what I’m contemplating doing now.
I’m about sixty thousand words into a book I’ve been trying to write on and off for several years. Last week, I did what I’ve done far too many times… archived what I’ve written and took the decision to start again, from scratch. I’ve been toying with various approaches, in my head, over the last few days. Each night when I sit down to write (or sit up in bed to write) I tell myself, I’ll start tomorrow… tomorrow, I’ll know how to make this damned thing work. I can go on for weeks like this. I don’t know whether it’s because I’m scared of things going wrong again, or if I’m actually bored of the story and not aware of it. But it’s happened many times before. Then, yesterday, on the way to work, another story just materialised in front of me. Between leaving the Tube station and arriving at my office, I’d decided on the situation, the setting, the style of the thing, a vague idea of the length, some of the characters, and some of the set pieces. And now I want to write it… like, now. This minute. Before it fades in my mind, or before I fall out of love with it.
So I have to decide which direction to go in. Give in to the allure of this tempting new idea that may or may not be little more than a distraction from that project? Or ignore it for the time being, and plug away, potentially flogging the dead horse that is that project and ignoring something that could be, like, so beautiful, man?
Let me introduce you to the magic circle. You can just about see it in this picture. It’s not that magic circle – the one involving magicians and secrets. No, this circle is something far more powerful. You see, to get my son to sleep during the day, I have to bundle him up, stick him in the buggy and push him across the street to the park. When we reach the circle, we must walk clockwise around it. At some point on our circuit, he will fall asleep. Without fail. Like clockwork. Like someone threw a switch. And he will sleep only when he reaches the magic circle. It’s no good going to the supermarket, or along the road, or even to a different part of the park. Only the magic circle will do. And even though the entire jourey takes, like, all of five minutes, this ritual must be performed if sleep is to be achieved. A pilgrimage must be made, twice daily. Snow, hail, driving rain – all must be braved or the switch will not be thrown.
If only I could bottle whatever magic is in the atmosphere there…
I’m sure you’ve seen all the horrific news reports detailing what’s happening in Haiti following on from the massive earthquake. I just want to take a moment to remind you how easy it is to donate. It really is a living nightmare, and the faster aid gets into the country, the more lives can be saved.
Ways to Donate to the DEC Haiti Earthquake Appeal
Online : here.
Phone: Call 0370 60 60 900
Text: Text “GIVE” to 70077 to donate £5 to the DEC for the Haiti earthquake appeal. £5 goes to DEC. You pay £5 your standard network SMS rate.
My parents are moving house this week. I have such mixed emotions about it. On the one hand, I’m so happy… They’ve been trying to move for nearly two years, and now they’ll be living five minutes from me, which I’m very excited about. They look after my son while I work, and I enjoy being with them. Also, since my dad had his stroke, having them close by is even more important – it means I can help out a bit more, and the new house is much better suited to his needs.
But… Damn, I’m going to miss that house. I lived there for 20 years. I grew up there. I spent the first few months of my marriage there. It’s a place I have such fond memories of. I dream about it almost every night (usually, I’m jumping out of the windows trying to escape from zombies… read into that what you will.) I know it’s just a building… But I’m going to miss it like hell.
Here are a few parts of the house that I dream about often…
It never fails to amaze me how London grinds to a halt whenever there’s the tiniest, weeniest little sprinkling of snow. I know that technically we’re not used to snow the way they are, say, in Canada, but come on… this excuse works the first fifty times, and then it gets kind of boring. And such histrionics in the media! Really, you’d think there was nothing else happening in the world…
I actually like this weather. I think there’s something so beautiful about bright snow flakes against the night sky, and I love the way the pavement and road get blanketed, so you can’t see the boundaries. It is a pain that transport gets messed up, and it’s no fun de-icing a car. But this weather definitely brings people together, and slows things down in a way that I think is good (every now and then) for a city like London.
I still remember the excitement of snow days when I was a child. Snowball fights! Unexpected days off school! (I loved school, but it was still exciting…) That excitement filters through to my adult self (especially when I get to leave work early.)
Of course, if this weather messes up my parents’ house move next week, I will be cursing the skies.
So I came across this 500 words a day writing challenge, and I decided I’m going to try it. No, as Yoda said, there is no try, only do or not do… I’m going to do it. Well, at least until I’ve finished the draft I’m almost half way through, and possibly for the first re-write, too. We’ll see.
Of course, if I was a proper fruitcake, I would have signed up for the 1,000 words a day version. But I’m not that much of a masochist.
It’s been a bittersweet year. On the one hand, my son was born: the most beautiful and joyous event in my life, and I am so blessed to have him. But 2009 has also been a real toughy. Aside from the usual stresses of first time parenthood (Sleep? Remind me what that is again?), I’ve also had to contend with numerous family and health “challenges” (ahem), and then five weeks after my son was born, my father had a serious stroke. It’s such a terrible, debilitating illness and has changed our lives in so many ways. So, to be honest, for the most part, I’m glad to see the back of 2009.
Time to set some goals for 2010…
1) I will not reincarnate this blog.
I’ve archived my blog – which I’ve been maintaining for about four years – two or three times now. This phenomenon crops up in Jeff VanderMeer’s wonderful Booklife: he says I’m seeking to reinvent my public image. I pledge to never do this again, since, as stated in Booklife, it’s a largely futile thing.
2) I will finish and polish that novel.
My pre-motherhood self thought she could write two novels (two novels!) while on maternity leave. Pah! I haven’t even got half a draft. I mean, I’m an optimist, and I have previously written a novel in eight months, but Jeez… What naivety! Nothing can prepare the uninitiated for the full-on intensity of motherhood. And as a breastfeeding, co-sleeping mother who does not believe in letting babies cry, this means virtually no free time and virtually no social life. And only stolen moments in which to write. But my boy is older now, and I’m more organised. So. No more excuses. Finish that damn novel, woman!
3) I will eat well.
This will hopefully keep at bay the stomach problems I’ve been having.
4) I will keep the house tidy
My son grabs and then eats anything within reach, so I cannot maintain my previous level of slovenliness. But, paradoxically…
5) I will chill the hell out
I’m not great at just letting things go, but since there is a finite number of hours in the day, I just have to learn to let some things slide – including (no, make that especially) housework. And I pledge to waste no energy fretting over things I think I should be doing.
6) I will learn the correct usage of the words “will” and “shall.”
For example, next year, I will know which is more appropriate for a blog post like this. Or perhaps I shall know it. I’m still not sure.
Happy New Year, all!
My parents are moving house, so they’ve been emptying their loft of all the books I had stashed up there. It was time for me to sort out all my books anyway. Marc put up some bookcases and we’ve spent the last few days transferring everything. I don’t think I realised quite how many I have… not that I feel particularly guilty, since books are one of the few things I don’t mind hoarding. I’m just ashamed that I’ve not even read so many of them.
At some point I’m going to have to sort them into some semblance of alphabetical order. Now that will be fun…
I really enjoyed Avatar. I’m not saying it’s perfect, but I think there’s a tendency for people to want to find fault with movies as excessively hyped as this one. Or perhaps it’s just that so much anticipation has been built up, the movie can’t possibly live up to expectations. It’s a big-budget, mainstream blockbuster: I wasn’t expecting gritty, multifaceted characters, complex plotting or subtle subtext. I was expecting something that looked good and kept me entertained, and that’s what I got. And I also got lots of other stuff I like… Floating islands, big guns, strange monsters, noble beasts, spirituality, an eco-message, girls with braids (albeit alien girls… the whole ethnic-alien thing is a discussion for another day), Sigourney Weaver AND Michelle Rodriguez, a psychotic villain, scenes of space, giant mystical trees, forests, battles, and rebellions.
I was glued to my seat. Recommended.
