An Extra Worry

Well, everything is cranking up a gear the way life does when you really want to be winding down. I am knee deep in Chapter 14 today (and hopefully tomorrow) – it should be a short chapter, so hopefully tomorrow there will be a short post saying Eureka and then you’ll know I am on Chapter 15. Not quite the final push but the finish line is there, glimmering in the distance.

However, in the manner of a children’s sports day obstacle race where you have to stop every so often and fling on dressing-up clothes, all sorts of odd work related things are popping up out of the woodwork. Such as…

Monday I am working as an Extra on a short film.
Tuesday I am seeing a (hopefully) fab nutritionist for a newspaper article that I want to write/file by Weds.
Wednesday I have to file different copy for a magazine, which is pretty much all done, just waiting on some more info.

And in-between that I need to write 3 chapters and finish the novel, get travel insurance, make witty hen party cards for Cape Town, speak to accountants, get niece birthday present, pay rent, pass another flipping house inspection, pack suitcase, and something else that I cannot remember. Eek! Oh yes, there is another magazine that I may be writing for - the Editor is a bit hard to pin down though. So perhaps that can wait until I come back.

I am quite interested about the Extra thing though – I only signed up to an extras website a couple of weeks ago as a side while I am looking for work, so in the meantime if anything extra-like comes up I can do it rather than sit and twiddle my thumbs. Also it is all life experiences for writing in a way, seeing new characters etc. I didn’t seriously believe anything would come of it, at least not yet, but just got a phone call to say I was wanted for Monday – woohoo! A whole day with real people... I am hoping it will be a better experience than when I went for my one and only audition back in 1992 for an Alan Parker film – everyone auditioning had a really fake voice and a sort of whooping laugh – very, very odd. Oh... unless the small print mentioned fake voices and whoops? Anyway, whoops aside, I didn't get the part, but considering it was for a film set in Amsterdam about young navy cadets (or something, hazy memory) and I was 16, my mum told me adamently that I wasn't allowed to get it anyway. And once the voice of doom speaks... (joke, mum. Love you!)