Wednesday 28 April 2010

up to date

Answered all comments. So now that I know how to do this, please, all of you out there, say hello, and I promise it won't take months to respond. And if you post a comment to my most recent blog, I'm more likely to find it.

You younger folk might be interested to know that there's a writing competition out there. The age categories are: 5-7, 8-10, 11-13, and 14-16; and a separate one for 16-25. Now I know some of you will fit into these categories, you know who you are, I've read your work, and it's worth having a go! Closing date July 23. So have a look at for more details. Michael Murpurgo, who we all know is just a great writer, has launched it. I read about it yesterday and had to share the news with you, just in case your school doesn't know about it yet. Perhaps you can show the website address to your teacher...

Happy writing.

the mist clears

I will never claim to know about computers. I will never claim that I can help other people know about computers, but I have made a discovery, and it's only taken since...well...since September, possibly October...It means that when someone posts a comment, I can actually post one back. No it isn't rocket science; it's probably a no brainer (I hate these hackneyed phrases) and a three year old could have told me this. Yes, well a three year old didn't. OK?

So those of you who've commented (you're a small, select group, right now, and can always say that you were one of the first) can look forward to a posting of mine to answers yours and though a few months late, remember patience is a virtue and greatness, or something, comes to those who wait, and well you must know what I mean.
What I haven't yet ascertained, is this: when I post a return comment, does it show up anywhere else, other than my blog. That's still a mystery. Yet life would be boring if such mysteries didn't exist.

By the by, Megan is about to be trawled around the publishers. He-who-shall-not-be-named quite-yet asked me if I had any preferences. Silly man. Preferences! Well of course I have preferences! Six to be exact. I gave him the list (one that's been prepared for some time now, rather like the funeral arrangements for a Royal), all highly reputed publishing houses, with reasons why I like them (I won't bore you with names, anyone who knows anything will know who I mean ) and I expect he's out there right now. I also added that, probably, my preference would lie with the publisher who agrees to take me on, but it was in small letters, he'd hardly have noticed it. Think big, think wild, in these circumstances, and imagine that it's their loss, not mine, when they say no. That's my motto. Though if that was in Latin it might not flow so well.
Any translators out there, please feel free.

And now, back to answering comments.

Monday 26 April 2010


So at last, down to one paragraph needing attention in Megan's story. Consider it attended to, and on its way back to... My Agent. As you can see the gloss of actually having an agent still hasn't worn off, but I promise it's the last time I use that epithet.

The thrill of working with someone who has a fine editing brain will never rub off, I reckon. It's just too important. I can't be all things to my writing. A second pair of eyes, an objective examination, someone who can think outside the box I'm writing in, is so important to me. To those out there who know they're good editors of their own work, stand up and be counted. I'd like to meet you and learn how to do that.

Now, I'm on hope's knife edge, waiting to see if he (who-shall-not-be-named-till-he's-sold-the idea) engages a publisher, and does what is required with rights and contracts, (longing to find out!) so that at last I can reveal the name, and figure on the website, and other exciting things like that. Small pearls, but pearls none the less, to me.

I'll keep you posted on developments.

I ought to be thinking about the next project. There's still the seal novel, but as it's sitting between two stools, i.e. nine year olds and young adults, then there's a lot to do to make it fit one or the other. There's also the picture book. Both are being pondered upon by you know who, and here's hoping that his fine editing brain can come up with some ideas I can agree with!

Wednesday 21 April 2010

typo apology

They're the bane of everyone's life, I know. Typos. So, sorry. But as I've said before you could write a book in typo-speak, because I'm sure the smae ones turn up allthe time.

See what I eman?

I won't insult by translating. You can guess what I mean. But isn't that part of the problem? We can read typos, and get the gist of things anyway. So why bother correcting?

Beucas it looks wrong. Desn't it?


Tuesday 20 April 2010


So here I am, with My Agent (it'll wear off this need to call him that, but while it's still aglow, allow me, please) almost as happy with Megan's story as he can be. Just sent him the redraft, the little quick fixes, the slightly larger fixes, all done, hopefully to his satisfaction. And you know, it still makes me cry just a bit, after this long time slogging away at it.
So what does that mean exactly? That I'm an emotionally hopeless baggage, and let's face it Bambi still make me cry, or that I haven't lost my abiity to feel inte the editorial cut and thrust? Who knows.

Thinking of other projects now. So many stories to tell. And apparently the picture
book market is breathing again. The phoenix has risen, the resuscitation was successful. At least that's the rumour. I'm watching the space, thinking in pictures and rewrites.

Thursday 8 April 2010


I know, I know. It's been some time. I have in fact been busy, busy, busy, and away again, and writing like mad and well any number of excuses. Here I am, though, and the happy client of an agent. I can almost say My Agent, only my acceptance hasn't actually gone into the post (as soon as I'm done here, it's in the box), so I'm holding back until I'm sure they've got me filed into their system.

So we're working on Megan's story which is enticingly close to being almost finished, possibly, that is the agent seems to be happy with the last piece I sent him, so it's on to the next and frustratingly my computer isplaying up, as if it just knows I want to get finished. So this is my breathing time, my winding down time after the wind-up that computer jargon always manages to achieve in my brain.

Computer playing up again. I'm dodging out before it blows.