was something weird someone said to moldypants ont time...
and it has no relivance to this blog post. I find it very difficult to entitle things.
The novel is being compleated still. if anyone wants any of it then please tell me and i can email about.
I'm on chapter 11. seingly grinding to a bit of a halt... well, relaxing it off and letting the editor in me (does exist somewhere!) go over the first 10 chapters. My ending is arthur comes back... asks sarah to go with him and leave alfie and she chooses not to.
I need to work on my "play within a novel"idea. its going off on a tangient a wee bit!!!
Wednesday 30 January 2008
Tuesday 22 January 2008
still writing
got up early, went to internet cafe, still writing a lot... its going WELL. Kimmy is particularly charismatic! one to watch out for.
Monday 21 January 2008
Chapters
Wrote chapter eight today and begain on chapter nine. Alfie must be up to something...something like hording money in a miserly fashion.Also began filling the MA apps in. I'm missing one from Loughborough U.
Kimmy and Jeremy are now situated in teh thing. i think its to be a longer novel than i had previously anticipated. Its a joy to write. I'm getting all "Lady Oracle - Grift From god" about it. Read out a few bits to Mardyworp. He seems to think I'm gonna get sued by my friends but thats the POINT!
Kimmy and Jeremy are now situated in teh thing. i think its to be a longer novel than i had previously anticipated. Its a joy to write. I'm getting all "Lady Oracle - Grift From god" about it. Read out a few bits to Mardyworp. He seems to think I'm gonna get sued by my friends but thats the POINT!
Sunday 20 January 2008
Oh, Betty!
Computer hopping is the way that I seem to get about updating this thing. I am now sat in one of the houses that is in my novel, in fact in the very room that my narrator spends her first night back. there are 3 people that are in the novel in this house at this very moment and i suppose it is a bit strange. Kinda like actually being the narrator, herself.
I read a portion of it out to Mardyworp today. He thinks I'm going to get a telling off from Little My. He's probs right.
It's progressing well. I should be suspicious but I'm just happy to be writing. I spent from 8pm until 12 or so writing last night. I really do my best stuff at night. It's like a guilt trip where I ocupy my mind and body with things that don't matter, chores that do not really need to be done and then feel so guilty that I HAVE to write by about the time it falls dusk.
I read a portion of it out to Mardyworp today. He thinks I'm going to get a telling off from Little My. He's probs right.
It's progressing well. I should be suspicious but I'm just happy to be writing. I spent from 8pm until 12 or so writing last night. I really do my best stuff at night. It's like a guilt trip where I ocupy my mind and body with things that don't matter, chores that do not really need to be done and then feel so guilty that I HAVE to write by about the time it falls dusk.
Saturday 19 January 2008
a new year, a new blog...
A new year a new blog. That’s the way things have always been done.
I’ve been incapacitated with a terrible illness that involves pooing, headaches, tiredness and dizziness. I’ve been terribly unwell for the past few days and subsequently my desire to write has been waning. Shame really as every time an idea hits me it gets confined to a notebook rather than being explored, and forgotten.
I’m utterly dissatisfied with my relationship at the moment. Mouldyworp has been particularly selfish and inattentive... or maybe I feel this just because being ill has depressed me and I feel terrible. Somehow I think the connection we used to have has been lost. It hurts.
In novel terms there are a few things that need to be jotted down here that make sense to nobody but myself. What a relief that it’s only me that reads this blog. What a relief that it looks like there is only me that will read this novel.
· The play within the novel – what’s that all about? This is some type of key, I suppose, she seems to think about Amy Winehouse and she has a dead friend that has died of an overdose... there are illusions to the narrators own drug use... she should find boxes of papers to plagiarise for inspiration in Dianne’s house that the others find slightly unnerving she wants to use.
· Friendship, coupling and the breaking down of friend groups – this is an implicit subtext that needs to feed into the relationship theme.
· Worlds – the city vs. the country – they are particularly close in distance but are worlds apart. The narrator’s reluctance to “let” the city in should be apparent (and vice versa).
· Alfie – dissatisfaction and domesticity. Happiness and frustration. Alfie and rural life should be tied. He and the city should be at odds. He disapproves but he was born from this.
· The past – Arthur. He’s already formed from Toyland.
Alfie did buy me some tarot cards the other day. They are really nice though...
Allthough Capricorn means "the Devil"...
I’ve been incapacitated with a terrible illness that involves pooing, headaches, tiredness and dizziness. I’ve been terribly unwell for the past few days and subsequently my desire to write has been waning. Shame really as every time an idea hits me it gets confined to a notebook rather than being explored, and forgotten.
I’m utterly dissatisfied with my relationship at the moment. Mouldyworp has been particularly selfish and inattentive... or maybe I feel this just because being ill has depressed me and I feel terrible. Somehow I think the connection we used to have has been lost. It hurts.
In novel terms there are a few things that need to be jotted down here that make sense to nobody but myself. What a relief that it’s only me that reads this blog. What a relief that it looks like there is only me that will read this novel.
· The play within the novel – what’s that all about? This is some type of key, I suppose, she seems to think about Amy Winehouse and she has a dead friend that has died of an overdose... there are illusions to the narrators own drug use... she should find boxes of papers to plagiarise for inspiration in Dianne’s house that the others find slightly unnerving she wants to use.
· Friendship, coupling and the breaking down of friend groups – this is an implicit subtext that needs to feed into the relationship theme.
· Worlds – the city vs. the country – they are particularly close in distance but are worlds apart. The narrator’s reluctance to “let” the city in should be apparent (and vice versa).
· Alfie – dissatisfaction and domesticity. Happiness and frustration. Alfie and rural life should be tied. He and the city should be at odds. He disapproves but he was born from this.
· The past – Arthur. He’s already formed from Toyland.
Alfie did buy me some tarot cards the other day. They are really nice though...
Allthough Capricorn means "the Devil"...
Monday 14 January 2008
well, hello...
Hello My new blog. Suppose I am here to do the expalining as to why the old blog was abandoned. Simple, it's a question of privacy.
It got to the point where my infamy was preceeding me, which is also anoying. And there Was also the problematic thing of people I don’t want being able to find and contact me. So the simple rule with this one is that nobody is going to know where it is or even that it exists.
The blog was always supposed to simply be a writing diary, like somewhere to thoroughly explore ideas in a stream of conscious way to free the imagination and, more importantly, sound as wanky as I desired with no reprisals. The other blog just ended up almost like a social networking site (which I feel are totally terrible and really… why would you want to have inane conversations with people that you don’t like enough to still be friends with now?)
So I suppose the therapeutic thing for me to do now is think about what I am writing now… well there are 2 things.
The novel – I'm a big fan of recycling and the original draft of Daddy was so terrible that I cant really selvedge much from it… except the notion of the trinity of friends and the male figure of threat to that. Arthur is still in it, but as a figment past. The narrator has a name (she is called Sarah. Simple) and is married to Alfie. They live in a cottage out in the sticks with not much money. Their equilibrium of domestic rural happiness is threatened by the narrator’s imminent trip back home to the mean streets of The Narb to bury her old friend. I’m on chapter 5 at the moment. Its strangely fulfilling
The play – septic dive. A simple exercise to strengthen the objectives of playwriting. 4 characters in a rock club set in 1997, the day Labour come to power. It’s a “state of the nation” play through a very insular world that is under threat (although the characters don’t know it)
Chances are ill probably talk about these 2 non stop for the next few months.
It got to the point where my infamy was preceeding me, which is also anoying. And there Was also the problematic thing of people I don’t want being able to find and contact me. So the simple rule with this one is that nobody is going to know where it is or even that it exists.
The blog was always supposed to simply be a writing diary, like somewhere to thoroughly explore ideas in a stream of conscious way to free the imagination and, more importantly, sound as wanky as I desired with no reprisals. The other blog just ended up almost like a social networking site (which I feel are totally terrible and really… why would you want to have inane conversations with people that you don’t like enough to still be friends with now?)
So I suppose the therapeutic thing for me to do now is think about what I am writing now… well there are 2 things.
The novel – I'm a big fan of recycling and the original draft of Daddy was so terrible that I cant really selvedge much from it… except the notion of the trinity of friends and the male figure of threat to that. Arthur is still in it, but as a figment past. The narrator has a name (she is called Sarah. Simple) and is married to Alfie. They live in a cottage out in the sticks with not much money. Their equilibrium of domestic rural happiness is threatened by the narrator’s imminent trip back home to the mean streets of The Narb to bury her old friend. I’m on chapter 5 at the moment. Its strangely fulfilling
The play – septic dive. A simple exercise to strengthen the objectives of playwriting. 4 characters in a rock club set in 1997, the day Labour come to power. It’s a “state of the nation” play through a very insular world that is under threat (although the characters don’t know it)
Chances are ill probably talk about these 2 non stop for the next few months.
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