try though I might

Just a worrying little thought. Being an absolute Luddite at all things technical, and I've said this before, you may remember, I'm not entirely sure what happens to my replies when someone comments. I write them and try to send them and then can't seem to find them anywhere. Alice, help me out here. Did you get my reply re: Chameane?

my kingdom

Now then, here's a to do. What to call the book. What title to give it. What a weight on the shoulders. Not mine exactly (my publisher's), but even so. All important stuff because no-one's going to buy a book with a naff title. Here's the question. What makes a naff title? Anyone out there care to get involved? Is it, too many words? Is it, too sugary? Is it, too dull? Is it, what is it exactly, that makes a title so bad you don't even want to use the book as a door stop. I'll leave that question hanging out there like one of those non-biodegradable carrier bags, those strange fruit which hang on our winter trees. We have one in our garden. It's blue. No name. No title. So I can't blame a particular superstore, though I'd like to blame the lot of them for putting my butcher, baker and candlestick maker out of business. But that's another story. This blue bag emerges like some very confused animal out of summer hibernation and dangles, or is battered by our salty winds, and still it hangs on, every single atom of its make-up, intact and ready to face another decade. The tree is too high to climb. I can't get it down. The bag, that is. I can plot the seasons with this one blue carrier. But it has me thinking. Maybe my title needs to be non-biodegradable. Anyway, I'll keep you posted. Hiya Alice. Bonjour. How're doing? Can't remember that in French, such a bad linguist am I. Fancy some German translation?
OK. So... now I'm going to click on PUBLISH POST and see what happens. Anything can, apparently, in the next few minutes.

Harumph

Guess what? You won't so I'll tell you. I have found a number of unpublished posts. A number!How has that happened when I've completed and clicked on the publish button? And I've been assured that all has gone ahead. I was fond of those posts. They took seconds to compose, seconds out of my life. Can someone out there, who is wiser than me, explain this? If I want to publish them I can, apparently, but they'll be completely out of synch. How festeringly maddening is that! I might be forced to complain. And would, if I could be certain it wasn't my fault.

happy

Alice, Alice, Alice. You have restored my faith in blogging.

thud on the mat?

Contracts are weird and wonderful things. It came, so I know these things. Full of words from another century, but isn't that the way of the legal world? Lots of clauses and one, very simply written, at the end: Bloomsbury, welcoming me to their list. It was worth reading just to get to that bit! And so I can come clean. That's who are publishing Megan and Jackson (title yet to be confirmed) and my agent is the wonderful James Catchpole. I still find it hard to believe that people out there actually like my work. It's a miracle. But I'm perfectly happy to accept it and move on. And here beginneth the work. A synopsis of novel number two by December. Best get a move on. If anyone out there feels like breathing a sigh of relief on my behalf, then do. Sigh away.

Some day my contract will come

Whilst waiting for the contract to thud onto my doormat (these things take time I've realised) I have been busy. Oh yes. Never let it be said that I wallow. Busy with young people at a school and producing a publication of their best work. Now, I'm about to crow with no apologies. I hate people who crow, however, I actually managed a fifteen page booklet complete with page numbers and illustrations. OK there's a bit of show-through which is a technical term for thin paper. I think. Anyway the final product will have more dense paper, so that it feels substantial, and a stiffish cover. Now aren't I clever? Anyone? Yoo hoo! Harrumph. Well I think I'm clever. It's taken years to get this far. So I'm patting myself on the back. Crowing into the silence that is the Internet. My blog, at any rate. Meanwhile, back at computer, still trying to decide on novel number two which has to follow a year after Megan and Jackson's story. So what to do. What to do. I have stories coming out of my ears. So that's not the problem. It's choosing the right one and if there was anyone out the with an iota of compassion (harrumph again) then you'd be showering me with pearls of wisdom. Waiting. Waiting... On Friday, troubled by this lack of focus on book two, I went to see Lanterns on the Lake and Kathryn Williams who were on as part of our local summer festival which, as ever, this is summer time after all, was rained upon and struck with lighting, and thunder rolled out of nowhere, and people scuttled about wearing umbrellas and shorts. As it was a bolt out of the blue decision to go to this concert we hadn't timetabled in food so picked up a chip supper (how Scottish does that sound!) from a fab chippy and ate them on a bench under a spreading chestnut tree (....or something...). Ended up with mushy peas and various flakes of fish all over the place (Colin...no change there, then...) and dollops of mince and gravy from an absolutely lush pie, all over me. (Not so usual. But, anyone who wants to argue that point, please feel free; then I'll know someone's reading this) You see, it's not that we're tramps as such. It's these wee plastic forks they give you. They pick up one pea at a time, and that's at a push, or one grain of mince, and they'll only spear one chip at a time. So, daintily eaten i.e small amounts going in rather than shovels full, but delicate, no. Not with all the splashes. So went to the theatre looking something like tramps. Mind you, nobody seemed to notice. Too busy with the show. I like that theatre. I'd like to sing there one day.

Megan is going places

It seems like forever since I said anything and I'm sorry, but life has been so full of twists, turns and surprises recently... you have no idea. Well some of you might. Anyway, Megan's story is going to be published, by a very notable company, I am delighted and excited to tell you, but the contract's not signed yet, so just in case there's an earthquake or a flood or something to get in the way of things, I'm not going to reveal names or details, except those of my sheer delight, of course. Which you can possibly imagine all by yourselves, but think of lots of fizz and bubbles, whizzing around inside and never stopping. That's how good it feels. Plenty of the drinkable fizz too, to celebrate, but now that I've come back down to earth, the nitty-gritty begins, the little bits of re-writing here and there, and the plans for book two, which is all part of the deal and which should come out a year after Megan. So those of you who are reading this, just keep dropping by and I'll keep you posted, as and when I can. This is a very happy me!