Hello everyone,
My novel has been out in the big wide agency world for a few weeks now, I do miss it, but to keep from worrying about it, I'm full on with my second one and have reached chapter five already.
A few weeks ago, four to be precise; I did a strange thing. I handed in my notice on two of my four jobs. I have worked out my months notice on both of them, so as from the new year I am only working 35 hours a week instead of over 60.
You see, I have an image in my head; me sitting in my office at home (in my nice new house by the sea) spending all my time writing. No more working for someone else, I'm going to be my own boss. Obviously I still need money to pay the rent and bills etc and I will have to cut back,(drastically) I've always wanted to do this, to be a fulltime writer and if I don't try, I'll never know, so I decided in my infinite moment of wisdom, that it was now or never; so now it is.
This could be the best moment of my life; the best decision I've ever made, or it could be the most stupid thing I've ever done, either way I won't know unless I try.
I know the agency said it was a 12 week wait, maybe more, which takes us up to sometime in February, but I still can't help checking my emails with excitement every day ...just in case.
I've also decided now is the perfect time to give up smoking, (let's face it, I'm never going to afford it now) I'm not sure what's got into me, I feel happy and hopeful for the future. I have no men in my life anymore (apart from my son and he doesn't count) my girls are happy, my cats are happy and so finally, am I.
Here's to 2017; let's hope it's a great new start for everyone,
HAPPY NEW YEAR
Friday 30 December 2016
Sunday 20 November 2016
A kiss Goodbye
Hello everyone
My novel is finished, 82.000words. It has been read and reread so many times and edited to within an inch of its life and has now finally been sent out into the big wide agency world to fend for itself.
It took me three days to write a cover letter and nearly half a trees worth of paper before I was finally satisfied. The synopsis was relatively easy and took two tries; the first detailed everything I wanted to say, while the edited version was stripped down to the bare bones AND I got it down to a single page.
I chose my agent carefully. After referring to THE ARTISTS AND WRITERS YEARBOOK and hundreds of agencies on line, I selected the five I considered to be right for me and my genre before whittling it down to the last two. The one I chose; MADELEINE MILBURN, said they read everything that is sent to them; so blowing a kiss to my MSS I hit the send button and wished it good luck.
I received an acknowledgement within the hour, which I thought was very nice; it was only a standard thanks for submitting, but at least I know they got it, but I'm now going to have a nail biting 12 week wait, which takes us up to February to find out if its been accepted.
I have now started my second novel; it was the only way to stop me worrying about the first one, although I must admit, it's never far from my mind. I see books on the shelves of Waterstones and imagine my book sitting there proudly on the shelf for all to see. 12 weeks is a long time; three months and as Christmas will soon be upon us and everything will grind to a halt, I'm sure it will take longer, but as they say, patience is a virtue, it also drives you crazy.
That's about it for now; good luck to anyone who has sent their MSS out into the big wide world.
My novel is finished, 82.000words. It has been read and reread so many times and edited to within an inch of its life and has now finally been sent out into the big wide agency world to fend for itself.
It took me three days to write a cover letter and nearly half a trees worth of paper before I was finally satisfied. The synopsis was relatively easy and took two tries; the first detailed everything I wanted to say, while the edited version was stripped down to the bare bones AND I got it down to a single page.
I chose my agent carefully. After referring to THE ARTISTS AND WRITERS YEARBOOK and hundreds of agencies on line, I selected the five I considered to be right for me and my genre before whittling it down to the last two. The one I chose; MADELEINE MILBURN, said they read everything that is sent to them; so blowing a kiss to my MSS I hit the send button and wished it good luck.
I received an acknowledgement within the hour, which I thought was very nice; it was only a standard thanks for submitting, but at least I know they got it, but I'm now going to have a nail biting 12 week wait, which takes us up to February to find out if its been accepted.
I have now started my second novel; it was the only way to stop me worrying about the first one, although I must admit, it's never far from my mind. I see books on the shelves of Waterstones and imagine my book sitting there proudly on the shelf for all to see. 12 weeks is a long time; three months and as Christmas will soon be upon us and everything will grind to a halt, I'm sure it will take longer, but as they say, patience is a virtue, it also drives you crazy.
That's about it for now; good luck to anyone who has sent their MSS out into the big wide world.
Thursday 27 October 2016
The End;
Hello everyone
Yes, that's it, I have finally finished my novel; all 300 pages, now comes the hard, eye strain bit of editing it to death. I have been editing as I go, so it's really just a case of tidying it up and re-reading to make sure it all makes sense.
I aim to get it all finished, edited, checked and polished by the end of this month, which as from yesterday, gives me a week. I have found an agency to send it to, after checking the writers and artists year book and hundreds of google pages for agents, I think (hope) I've found the right one.
I have also made a new friend online; his name is Dan and he lives in America. We have been chatting for a while and seem to have a lot in common. He loves horror and anything spooky. He has sent me lots of great pictures, which inspire my imagination; I want to write, write, write, but real paid work gets in the way.
I have already got a second book planned and third and forth. I take my writing with me inside my head and when I am doing my boring, monotonous paid job, I work on my book, piecing things together and planning the story.
Writers often complain that they have nothing to write about; I have the opposite problem, too much to write about. I have so many books and short stories in my head, it's just finding the time to get them out and onto paper.
Anyway I'd better get back to it; I have two spare hours before I have to start my next job, good luck to everyone in the writing and living world.
Yes, that's it, I have finally finished my novel; all 300 pages, now comes the hard, eye strain bit of editing it to death. I have been editing as I go, so it's really just a case of tidying it up and re-reading to make sure it all makes sense.
I aim to get it all finished, edited, checked and polished by the end of this month, which as from yesterday, gives me a week. I have found an agency to send it to, after checking the writers and artists year book and hundreds of google pages for agents, I think (hope) I've found the right one.
I have also made a new friend online; his name is Dan and he lives in America. We have been chatting for a while and seem to have a lot in common. He loves horror and anything spooky. He has sent me lots of great pictures, which inspire my imagination; I want to write, write, write, but real paid work gets in the way.
I have already got a second book planned and third and forth. I take my writing with me inside my head and when I am doing my boring, monotonous paid job, I work on my book, piecing things together and planning the story.
Writers often complain that they have nothing to write about; I have the opposite problem, too much to write about. I have so many books and short stories in my head, it's just finding the time to get them out and onto paper.
Anyway I'd better get back to it; I have two spare hours before I have to start my next job, good luck to everyone in the writing and living world.
Sunday 28 August 2016
Three Little Words
Hello everyone;
I have now received my very first comment on my blog page and I couldn't be happier.
I always check expectantly, hoping, praying, but the comment box is always empty. Imagine my surprise this time when it actually had something in it. Three little words. That was it; no more, no less, and what were those three little words; NEVER GIVE UP. Someone (you know who you are) actually cared enough and took the time to comment on something I had written and whoever that unknown person is, I THANK YOU.
Those three little words, no more than 11 letters made my day. I was ready to give up. After coming nowhere in the competition, I felt a failure, a reject, I was wasting my time, but those words gave me hope, when nothing else had.
I have unboxed my book, dragging it back out from the cobweb shrouded darkness under my bed and am now racing towards the finish line. I will complete it; if only for my own pleasure and satisfaction. I do have a couple of agents lined up and I will contact them when it's completed. Until then I shall press on; the end is in sight and I can't wait to type those two little words.
Well that's it for now; I have a novel to finish.
Good luck to all fellow scribblers.
I have now received my very first comment on my blog page and I couldn't be happier.
I always check expectantly, hoping, praying, but the comment box is always empty. Imagine my surprise this time when it actually had something in it. Three little words. That was it; no more, no less, and what were those three little words; NEVER GIVE UP. Someone (you know who you are) actually cared enough and took the time to comment on something I had written and whoever that unknown person is, I THANK YOU.
Those three little words, no more than 11 letters made my day. I was ready to give up. After coming nowhere in the competition, I felt a failure, a reject, I was wasting my time, but those words gave me hope, when nothing else had.
I have unboxed my book, dragging it back out from the cobweb shrouded darkness under my bed and am now racing towards the finish line. I will complete it; if only for my own pleasure and satisfaction. I do have a couple of agents lined up and I will contact them when it's completed. Until then I shall press on; the end is in sight and I can't wait to type those two little words.
Well that's it for now; I have a novel to finish.
Good luck to all fellow scribblers.
Tuesday 23 August 2016
Tuesday 19 July 2016
Self Doubt Sets In
Hello everyone,
Well I didn't win the competition, but then I didn't expect to and yet, somewhere in the cobweb shrouded recess of my mind, hope lies there expectantly. Thanks to that competition I now have serious doubts about my novel; the synopsis was read by a professional and they didn't want it, so does that mean that no one else will want it either?
I am so close to the end and yet I fear finishing it. What if I've wasted all that time and effort for nothing. I have not looked at it in over a month; should I bother finishing it or just shred it? I am so tempted to give up my dreams of becoming a writer, I have so much normal, paid work at the moment that I'm having to turn it away, so what's the point in chasing a dream?
I have thrown a lot of old writing material and stories out; just didn't see the point in keeping them to gather yet more dust under my bed. I even held my novel in my hands; all five hand written books and was ready to tear them up and bin them and yet, I couldn't do it. My dream is so strong and no matter how many times I've tried to crush and kill it, it just won't die, It's like a disease or a pesky summer insect, always there gnawing away at the back of my mind. You won't know if you don't try. You won't know if you don't try. On and on, droning at the back of my mind.
I did think about the self publishing route, but it just doesn't feel real, my spiteful mind says; you're not good enough, you had to do it yourself; no one likes your stories enough to want to buy them and then I get the crashing, neon pink FAILURE sign
doing the rounds inside my head, bumping into stories that will never be given life.
Why do I have this compulsion to write? Was I born with it? Am I talented? Or afflicted? I wish I knew. Either way I know I will continue to write; I can't help it.
Until next time good luck to all would be writers.
Well I didn't win the competition, but then I didn't expect to and yet, somewhere in the cobweb shrouded recess of my mind, hope lies there expectantly. Thanks to that competition I now have serious doubts about my novel; the synopsis was read by a professional and they didn't want it, so does that mean that no one else will want it either?
I am so close to the end and yet I fear finishing it. What if I've wasted all that time and effort for nothing. I have not looked at it in over a month; should I bother finishing it or just shred it? I am so tempted to give up my dreams of becoming a writer, I have so much normal, paid work at the moment that I'm having to turn it away, so what's the point in chasing a dream?
I have thrown a lot of old writing material and stories out; just didn't see the point in keeping them to gather yet more dust under my bed. I even held my novel in my hands; all five hand written books and was ready to tear them up and bin them and yet, I couldn't do it. My dream is so strong and no matter how many times I've tried to crush and kill it, it just won't die, It's like a disease or a pesky summer insect, always there gnawing away at the back of my mind. You won't know if you don't try. You won't know if you don't try. On and on, droning at the back of my mind.
I did think about the self publishing route, but it just doesn't feel real, my spiteful mind says; you're not good enough, you had to do it yourself; no one likes your stories enough to want to buy them and then I get the crashing, neon pink FAILURE sign
doing the rounds inside my head, bumping into stories that will never be given life.
Why do I have this compulsion to write? Was I born with it? Am I talented? Or afflicted? I wish I knew. Either way I know I will continue to write; I can't help it.
Until next time good luck to all would be writers.
Wednesday 15 June 2016
A Lesson Well Learnt.
Hello everyone,
My romantic journey has ended. It had been on a downward spiral shortly after I became homeless. It's funny too, because I can remember the exact point when it changed. We were sitting in the local park; I was going through a really tough time, everything was getting to me; he was aware of my situation but chose to ignore it.
That day everything had got too much; I was contemplating the end. I poured my heart out to him and yes; I cried in front of him. I hated myself for doing it, but I just couldn't stop the tears, the dam wall had been breached and the flood was coming. I never cry in front of anyone, simply holding onto the tears until I'm alone, it makes me feel weak, but that day was a rare exception. If I cry in front of anyone, it means I'm REALLY hurting.
What a mistake. He didn't move, simply looked at me and turned away. He didn't cuddle or console me, he didn't even speak, just sat there looking uncomfortable, which made me feel a complete fool. I eventually stopped the flow through sheer will power, but the next half an hour was painfully awkward.
I didn't want sympathy or even empathy or understanding; I just wanted a cuddle. He didn't have to say anything, but his total lack of response just made me hurt even more. My feelings for him gradually began to change from that day. I spoke to him about it (through text) as he'd never talk about anything like that face to face, but he simply said 'I didn't know what to do.' so he chose to do nothing. That was a severe learning experience; it's human nature to cuddle and console someone who is crying or upset; it's an auto response.
I kept a diary or three for the whole of our time together and one day I will read them again. There is a lot of good information in them for a story, (something good has to come out of this) I wrote down thoughts, feelings, things he'd said to me both nice and nasty and he could be really nasty, especially if he didn't get his own way. I have enough material for a book; it may start out as a romantic love story, but it sure as hell won't end happily ever after.
Must get back to work now; the boring work that pays the bills; good luck to everyone with whatever project you're working on, until next time . . .
My romantic journey has ended. It had been on a downward spiral shortly after I became homeless. It's funny too, because I can remember the exact point when it changed. We were sitting in the local park; I was going through a really tough time, everything was getting to me; he was aware of my situation but chose to ignore it.
That day everything had got too much; I was contemplating the end. I poured my heart out to him and yes; I cried in front of him. I hated myself for doing it, but I just couldn't stop the tears, the dam wall had been breached and the flood was coming. I never cry in front of anyone, simply holding onto the tears until I'm alone, it makes me feel weak, but that day was a rare exception. If I cry in front of anyone, it means I'm REALLY hurting.
What a mistake. He didn't move, simply looked at me and turned away. He didn't cuddle or console me, he didn't even speak, just sat there looking uncomfortable, which made me feel a complete fool. I eventually stopped the flow through sheer will power, but the next half an hour was painfully awkward.
I didn't want sympathy or even empathy or understanding; I just wanted a cuddle. He didn't have to say anything, but his total lack of response just made me hurt even more. My feelings for him gradually began to change from that day. I spoke to him about it (through text) as he'd never talk about anything like that face to face, but he simply said 'I didn't know what to do.' so he chose to do nothing. That was a severe learning experience; it's human nature to cuddle and console someone who is crying or upset; it's an auto response.
I kept a diary or three for the whole of our time together and one day I will read them again. There is a lot of good information in them for a story, (something good has to come out of this) I wrote down thoughts, feelings, things he'd said to me both nice and nasty and he could be really nasty, especially if he didn't get his own way. I have enough material for a book; it may start out as a romantic love story, but it sure as hell won't end happily ever after.
Must get back to work now; the boring work that pays the bills; good luck to everyone with whatever project you're working on, until next time . . .
Tuesday 10 May 2016
On The Home Stretch
Hello everyone
I've almost finished my novel, I'm on the home stretch and the end is in sight; then comes the arduous task of editing. Last month, quite by accident I found a competition in the daily mail for a first time novelist; the newspaper was in one of the rubbish bins where I work in the evenings and I thought okay i'll send it in, what have I got to lose, maybe I was meant to find it.The winner will receive £20.000 and a publishing contract, hence why I'm racing to get it finished. The competition closed last month and the judges will decide in June, so i'm keeping my fingers crossed.
I have also got a second, third and fourth novel planned as well as myriad short stories on the go, a few of which are doing the rounds, thanks to possible homes found on the Horror Tree, most are for inclusion in horror anthologies, so again, fingers crossed; i'm fast running out of fingers.
On a completely different note; I would have been at my beautiful little flat for six months on 21st of May; so I think a little party is called for. After being homeless for over six months, I thought this day would never come. Every day I only have to look at my two happy cats to realise how lucky we are to have a roof over our heads; things could have been a lot worse.
My concrete and dirt patch has been transformed; I have laid artificial grass and brought a fake rose and wisteria tree as well as a couple of fake topiary balls, all I need now is one more fake tree and some pebbles and I think i'm done. I took a few photos of it before I started and I'll take some more when it's finished and hopefully; if I can, post them here .
Well I think that's about it for now, must get back to my novel; can't wait to write the last word.
Good luck to everyone out there who enjoys a good scribble.
I've almost finished my novel, I'm on the home stretch and the end is in sight; then comes the arduous task of editing. Last month, quite by accident I found a competition in the daily mail for a first time novelist; the newspaper was in one of the rubbish bins where I work in the evenings and I thought okay i'll send it in, what have I got to lose, maybe I was meant to find it.The winner will receive £20.000 and a publishing contract, hence why I'm racing to get it finished. The competition closed last month and the judges will decide in June, so i'm keeping my fingers crossed.
I have also got a second, third and fourth novel planned as well as myriad short stories on the go, a few of which are doing the rounds, thanks to possible homes found on the Horror Tree, most are for inclusion in horror anthologies, so again, fingers crossed; i'm fast running out of fingers.
On a completely different note; I would have been at my beautiful little flat for six months on 21st of May; so I think a little party is called for. After being homeless for over six months, I thought this day would never come. Every day I only have to look at my two happy cats to realise how lucky we are to have a roof over our heads; things could have been a lot worse.
My concrete and dirt patch has been transformed; I have laid artificial grass and brought a fake rose and wisteria tree as well as a couple of fake topiary balls, all I need now is one more fake tree and some pebbles and I think i'm done. I took a few photos of it before I started and I'll take some more when it's finished and hopefully; if I can, post them here .
Well I think that's about it for now, must get back to my novel; can't wait to write the last word.
Good luck to everyone out there who enjoys a good scribble.
Thursday 21 April 2016
The What If Syndrome
Hello everyone
We, my two cats and myself are very happy and settled here in our nice flat, the rent's paid, all the bills are paid, I have broadband, an old but very reliable car, warmth, enough food and am easily working enough hours to pay for everything and still have money left over. Yes, things are looking up, so why am I afraid?
I'll tell you why, It could all come crashing down. Its happened before, made redundant and ended up homeless all in the space of a month. I am suffering from a severe case of the 'What if's'.
I'm afraid to relax and really enjoy myself because I know how quickly things can change. What if the landlord decides to sell? Or wants me out for some other reason, what if I lose one or more of the six jobs I'm doing and can't pay the rent?
I am working ten, sometimes 12 hours a day, seven days a week just so that I can have some money saved up should disaster strike again. I should be enjoying what I have, but my constant fear of becoming homeless again is stopping me from really appreciating and being able to enjoy what I have.
My novel, however is coming along in leaps and bounds and is almost finished, only two chapters to go, then comes the BIG edit. I have also written three short stories and sent them off into the world. Writing seems to be an escape from reality at the moment and allows me to think of something else and not obsess over my own fears. Also a couple of my jobs are office cleaning, where a brain is not required, this then allows my body to go onto autopilot and my mind to think over difficult plot ideas and new stories, so when I do finally get a few free hours here and there to do some writing, it's pretty much all there filed away inside my head, or on various bits of scrap paper screwed up in my pocket, or suffocating in the depths of my bag.
That's about it for now, but if anyone out there knows how to stop the WHAT IF syndrome, it would be very much appreciated.
We, my two cats and myself are very happy and settled here in our nice flat, the rent's paid, all the bills are paid, I have broadband, an old but very reliable car, warmth, enough food and am easily working enough hours to pay for everything and still have money left over. Yes, things are looking up, so why am I afraid?
I'll tell you why, It could all come crashing down. Its happened before, made redundant and ended up homeless all in the space of a month. I am suffering from a severe case of the 'What if's'.
I'm afraid to relax and really enjoy myself because I know how quickly things can change. What if the landlord decides to sell? Or wants me out for some other reason, what if I lose one or more of the six jobs I'm doing and can't pay the rent?
I am working ten, sometimes 12 hours a day, seven days a week just so that I can have some money saved up should disaster strike again. I should be enjoying what I have, but my constant fear of becoming homeless again is stopping me from really appreciating and being able to enjoy what I have.
My novel, however is coming along in leaps and bounds and is almost finished, only two chapters to go, then comes the BIG edit. I have also written three short stories and sent them off into the world. Writing seems to be an escape from reality at the moment and allows me to think of something else and not obsess over my own fears. Also a couple of my jobs are office cleaning, where a brain is not required, this then allows my body to go onto autopilot and my mind to think over difficult plot ideas and new stories, so when I do finally get a few free hours here and there to do some writing, it's pretty much all there filed away inside my head, or on various bits of scrap paper screwed up in my pocket, or suffocating in the depths of my bag.
That's about it for now, but if anyone out there knows how to stop the WHAT IF syndrome, it would be very much appreciated.
Thursday 11 February 2016
A Home At Last
Hello everyone
I've done it, finally I have a home with my two beloved cats. It's taken six months and near extinction on my part, I've scrimped and saved, begged and pleaded and cried until I'm exhausted. It's very tiny, just a basement flat with three rooms, lounge/kitchenette, bedroom and bathroom, communal gardens with a concrete and dirt patch to call my own.
I received no help whatsoever from the council, simply stuck on the bidding system and left to get on with it. I have slept in my car next to fields, car parks and my daughter's floor. I reached breaking point. My cats were terrified of everything at my daughter's house; other cats, dogs, chickens, ducks and lived in the outhouse, they were cold and scared.
I am now working round the clock to pay for everything, but my cats are happy and settled; they love their new home as I do myself, I have started writing again, picking up my novel where I left off. Just re-reading it the other day I could see how low my mood had sunk, the writing was dark and depressive; I've deleted it all but not before printing it out as a reminder to how low the human spirit can go.
Eventually, on a friends advice, I went to the doctor and she prescribed citalopram, an anti depressant, it did ease my mood a little, but did not solve my problem; that was up to me. I am fearful of the future. What if my now landlord decides to sell this flat; I will be homeless again and I never want to go through that again....ever.
I sincerely hope no-one out there has to go through that; it is one of the worst feelings and situations in the world, nowhere to go and no-one to turn to. I hope you are all still writing and have had some success, until next time, good luck to you all. xx
I've done it, finally I have a home with my two beloved cats. It's taken six months and near extinction on my part, I've scrimped and saved, begged and pleaded and cried until I'm exhausted. It's very tiny, just a basement flat with three rooms, lounge/kitchenette, bedroom and bathroom, communal gardens with a concrete and dirt patch to call my own.
I received no help whatsoever from the council, simply stuck on the bidding system and left to get on with it. I have slept in my car next to fields, car parks and my daughter's floor. I reached breaking point. My cats were terrified of everything at my daughter's house; other cats, dogs, chickens, ducks and lived in the outhouse, they were cold and scared.
I am now working round the clock to pay for everything, but my cats are happy and settled; they love their new home as I do myself, I have started writing again, picking up my novel where I left off. Just re-reading it the other day I could see how low my mood had sunk, the writing was dark and depressive; I've deleted it all but not before printing it out as a reminder to how low the human spirit can go.
Eventually, on a friends advice, I went to the doctor and she prescribed citalopram, an anti depressant, it did ease my mood a little, but did not solve my problem; that was up to me. I am fearful of the future. What if my now landlord decides to sell this flat; I will be homeless again and I never want to go through that again....ever.
I sincerely hope no-one out there has to go through that; it is one of the worst feelings and situations in the world, nowhere to go and no-one to turn to. I hope you are all still writing and have had some success, until next time, good luck to you all. xx
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