During the past six weeks, in the middle of winter, I’ve had two plumbers, an electrician, a tiler, a painter, a plasterer, a glass installer and a couple of cabinet makers inside my house making a noise, leaving all the doors and windows open, and asking me for decisions. They gave me a few days break to clean up a little, and then the glass mirror and shower were installed.
A week later I got the fit-out for the dressing room and as soon as all that was done, two roofers, and three or four solar panel installers arrived to cut off my electricity again and drop pointed objects all over my outside paths.
In this same time, I’ve had my latest book, Starling, to launch, and the second in the series, Ella, to promote. I’m also working on edits for the third in the series, Charlotte, and trying to write the fourth, Wenna.
Last week, although I had decided not to judge any more writing competitions, I accepted a last minute plea from not one but two RWA chapters. I don’t know what it is about having no time, but when I have none, everything happens. As soon as the entries arrived, I sat and finished the judging of seven. Six were pretty awful, and the bad ones take ages to judge. I don’t have any natural tact, so on the entries I say exactly what I think and then spend another hour or two trying to say the same thing nicely. Judges have to be tactful and suggest how to fix the problems. I rationed these six to one suggestion each. I think that’s about as much as any writer can take in at a time.
One was pure gold, and made my work worthwhile. The writer of this will be the only contestant who will thank me, if any do. The others will hate me and never know how much work I put into trying to help them. That’s the way it goes. I thanked every single one of my judges. The help they gave me meant the difference in being published and unpublished.
Where was I? Oh, yes. So six weeks of misery and what do I have to show for it? A stunningly beautiful new bathroom, and a roof that doesn’t leak. My solar panels still haven’t been reinstalled but that should be this week. But what happened this morning was weird. I’m an early riser, or I can’t get done everything I need to do in a day. I’ve been getting up at 6am, in the dark so that I could be showered before the workers arrived and cut off the water or the gas or the electricity, or everything. Plus, my morning walk lasts an hour and a quarter each day and I need to have that before I begin writing. This is my thinking time, my talking-to-myself time, my get-the-story-going-again time.
Normally. Today I slept until almost 8am. Then I cooked a breakfast. Never happens. Then I went for a stroll. Just walkin’ in the rain. Getting’ soakin’ wet. Torture in my heart – nope, I think I’ve just had a morning off.
So, this is what it's like.
A week later I got the fit-out for the dressing room and as soon as all that was done, two roofers, and three or four solar panel installers arrived to cut off my electricity again and drop pointed objects all over my outside paths.
In this same time, I’ve had my latest book, Starling, to launch, and the second in the series, Ella, to promote. I’m also working on edits for the third in the series, Charlotte, and trying to write the fourth, Wenna.
Last week, although I had decided not to judge any more writing competitions, I accepted a last minute plea from not one but two RWA chapters. I don’t know what it is about having no time, but when I have none, everything happens. As soon as the entries arrived, I sat and finished the judging of seven. Six were pretty awful, and the bad ones take ages to judge. I don’t have any natural tact, so on the entries I say exactly what I think and then spend another hour or two trying to say the same thing nicely. Judges have to be tactful and suggest how to fix the problems. I rationed these six to one suggestion each. I think that’s about as much as any writer can take in at a time.
One was pure gold, and made my work worthwhile. The writer of this will be the only contestant who will thank me, if any do. The others will hate me and never know how much work I put into trying to help them. That’s the way it goes. I thanked every single one of my judges. The help they gave me meant the difference in being published and unpublished.
Where was I? Oh, yes. So six weeks of misery and what do I have to show for it? A stunningly beautiful new bathroom, and a roof that doesn’t leak. My solar panels still haven’t been reinstalled but that should be this week. But what happened this morning was weird. I’m an early riser, or I can’t get done everything I need to do in a day. I’ve been getting up at 6am, in the dark so that I could be showered before the workers arrived and cut off the water or the gas or the electricity, or everything. Plus, my morning walk lasts an hour and a quarter each day and I need to have that before I begin writing. This is my thinking time, my talking-to-myself time, my get-the-story-going-again time.
Normally. Today I slept until almost 8am. Then I cooked a breakfast. Never happens. Then I went for a stroll. Just walkin’ in the rain. Getting’ soakin’ wet. Torture in my heart – nope, I think I’ve just had a morning off.
So, this is what it's like.
RSS Feed
