songs

So this weekend it's been hard at it with the song writing team. Colin, Tony and myself. We managed to produce a small sackful, in between bacon sandwiches, lunch, and restorative beverages. Hard work, I can tell you, but worth it. Didn't notice how the strawberries from a day ago had grown an overcoat of mould, they don't last long do they, and had cosied up with the red grapes, equally short lived, at least in our kitchen, and shared their fur with them. So no resting on laurels once the songs were done, it was clean up the kitchen, put out the trash, sweep up the crumbs. Rock and Roll.

All things bright and beautiful

You know, when all's said and done, nothing's so important as life, nothing's so trivial as writing, in the face of a baby born too early, trying to take a bite out of life to see what it's like. There's a teeny feller over in Oz, doing just that. He's one of those wee ones that come complete with hats and tubes and drips and nurses. One of those who live in tanks and under lights and with machines ticking and bleeping away in the background. And somehow, him battling away to get a nibble, makes the world spin a tad faster. My world anyway, and the world of people who matter to me. And over the last week, little feller seems to have developed a taste for catching a ride on it. And he has. So good on him. Time to head home and put some weight on those sparrow-bones and have a go at life outside the box.  It's not so bad, little feller.  And all the while, my book has taken a nibble of its own, with hats and tubes and bleeping things to help it along, and another miracle, trivial in the extreme, has happened. All creatures great and small.

One of these days I'll get this second novel sorted. Anyone out there with pearls of wisdom, come thread them around my neck, don't be shy, don't hang back, I'm here to be advised, to be have my fevered brow dabbed with something cool. There's just me and the wide blue yonder communing and fretting. But hey, Sunderland has restored my faith in something. All is not lost.

Book two. First draft to agent. Flat battery in car. Hey ho. Soon, though, very soon it'll all be OK. Yes, yes, I'm a believer. Had a nice week, up and down to Yorkshire and then to Newcastle Uni to talk about Anthem for Jackson Dawes. He just keeps going, that boy. Have nice days, folks.

This has been a busy time. Second novel syndrome really does exist, folks, and combating that has taken up all of my energy. Still doing all the first novel stuff, readings and signings, and still hanging on in with some of the awards whose lists it was mentioned in. That takes up quite a lot of emotional and mental energy. Disappointments are inevitable and so I bat them away like flies. No point in dwelling for too long. Only, flies can be tricksy little things. So I keep batting. Three cheers for singing, I say, for being able to write a song and perform it with my band and have people like what they hear. Three cheers for school children and teachers and librarians who invite me in to write with them and to sing with them and to stop me worrying about second novels.  Finished rough draft today, by the way. Off to my agent. Fingers crossed. Life is full of crossed fingers, don't you find? And in the scheme of things, when the south of England seems to be melting into the sea, I don't feel that my little dilemmas should even have air space, though getting them off my chest is quite nice. Welcome to the world of writing.  

Had a lovely time in Berwick this weekend with my new band, singing the new songs and enjoying the rich hospitality of the Kazmiranda cafe. Thanks to all who supported us and bought albums and of course for seeming to enjoy the new stuff. If you want to know more then go to   https://www.facebook.com/theceliabband  and see what else we're up to.

It's almost the end of January and I'm fizzing with long lists and short lists and everything in between. Anthem for Jackson Dawes has trotted off on its own and is featuring on lists for the North Lanarkshire Catalyst Award; Coventry Inspiration Award; Brandford Boase Award; Carnegie Medal; UKLA Award; Leeds Book Awards.It's ab fab to get as far as those lists, and though there's a long, long road ahead, which can terminate at any point, who knows where, I have to thank the editor of the book, Emma Matthewson, my agent James Catchpole and of course Cornerstones for all their faith, all their hard work and pushing me into this frantic world of writing. I feel privileged to have worked with them all. Yes, I wrote the book, but without these good people it would still be just a pile of paper with words on it. As for awards, well, I'd like to shuffle along from the nominations to the long lists, from the long lists to the short lists, and hey, if anything better happens after that, fab. But it's fab anyway. The process of it all means that someone, somewhere has not slushed my book but is reading it and discussing it.  And there are lots of someones. And they matter more than anything. Thank you for your time.