full of cold

So here I am full of cold, my head ready to explode and all I want to do is sleep. Let's hear some suitable noises of sympathy, folks...come on...Hmmm. No takers.

Never mind, I'll sympathise with myself. So there. A couple of paracetamol, cup of tea and a bit of shut eye, now that I can, now that the competition work is completed. Off to a spa on Friday, with Lucy and Kate. A full day of massage, sauna, swimming, pampering etc. Can't wait. Christmas present from Colin, good man that he is. Obviously knows how to keep us sweet. Obviously also knows that I need to get back into the swing of the novel rewrite after a whole month of reading and writing critiques of other people's writing, and a spa day is the answer. Equally I could just lie in the bath for a bit, after a spell at the gym and walk along the beach. Only that's not half so exotic or flamboyant.

Speaking of flamboyant, my office is a tip. Must try to clear a space on the floor so that I can actually get to my desk to do the rewrite. Being freelance is a true joy, but it does mean a different bag or box for each thing I do, and I'm always doing something. Naturally they have to be stowed somewhere accessible, and that place is the floor. Everything sits like stepping stones, but somehow I can't get to my desk. Actually I can. How could I be writing this otherwise? Yes, sir. It's a classic case of writerly procrastination. The rewrite has to be done. I have to do it. Simple equation. So here I go. Right now. When my headache subsides, that is, and after another cup of tea. Or should that be coffee?

Thanks to Libby, by the way, who sent me some comments on novel number two. I've asked her to put them on this blog, so hopefully that's going to happen soon.

writing in pencil

You can write anywhere with a pencil it's true and I'm never without one, somewhere about my person or in my bag. Great for travelling. They never run out, but of course you do need a sharpener and they irritate me. Cheap pencil sharpeners suck. They sharpen the pencil OK, sometimes, but so often they break off the lead (yes, I know it's not real lead any more) and hang on to it, so then it's stuck inside, and you have to get something to gouge it out with, so that you can try to sharpen the pencil again without decapitating it, and then you've lost the will to live, let alone write, and so today I ordered myself an un-cheap sharpener, grey metal, one with a handle you turn, one you can clamp to the desk if you want to, one you could press flowers with, one you could use as a paper weight, or something to stop you flying away in the wind, and I bought a little plastic version, to take in my bag, a blue miniature of the grey one, with little suckers so you can stick it anywhere, in any room, in any street, any city, any country. I've just tried it. And I want to sharpen everything in sight, it's so good. Oh, I am so happy. It's a treat actually, to myself. I've finished reading all the competition stories; I've chosen those to go though to the next round, and I'll soon be getting back to my own writing. Can't wait. The pencils are all ready, sharpened, beautiful.

Great young reviewers and critics

And thanks to Jenny, for her comments. A bit of confusion over names and who people are. That's such a good point. If the reader isn't sure who's who then they aren't going to be too bothered about what happens to them, I suppose. Though, happily, Jenny does want to know what's happened to Luke. Hmmm, so do I, and I wrote it!

Anyway, I'll check that out. If anyone else wants to read reviews by Hollie and Jenny then just look for comments under my most recent postings and if you want to join in, just let me know. Find me on my website.