Typical! Me and J have been struck down at the last innings of the year with that infernal cold that has been drifting around the country – just when I thought we had avoided it! I haven’t even been commuting, which is prime lurgy trading ground… but it was very draughty in that pub the other day, I was practically sitting in the open-fire place. Okay, I blame that.
So plans for tonight (friends, pub, live band) may well be scuppered – all I feel like is curling up under a blanket watching Mary Poppins with the cats. Blooming cold!
Apart from the sniffles, I am looking forward to 2009. I think it will be a great year in its way, and I can’t wait! There are so many things I want to do, not least with the book, and all I need is a clear head to get started!
So let’s see, apart from the biggies, this coming year I would like to achieve:
- A holiday with J – anywhere! We deserve one!
- An improvement in my lindy hop skills
- A regular-ish yoga class
- Another visit to that grand second-hand bookshop in Lincoln
- Affording a car (affording anything would be nice)
- Some sort of painting / creativity / craftiness
- And to remember to occasionally go fly a kite (yes I have just watched Mary Poppins!)
Wish you all a grand New Year 2009!
Wednesday, 31 December 2008
Tuesday, 30 December 2008
Stop Fiddling!
Finally, after what feels like forever, I have clicked open a certain rather long Word document. My words look back at me, slightly dust-covered, slightly forlorn. ‘You’ve left us too long!’ they reproach me. ‘Did you see how many real books out there mention the 1940’s? By the time you come to push us out into the world you’ll have missed your market!’
“But it’s not just about the 1940’s!” I tell my words crossly. “It’s about…” I stop, as my words lean forward eagerly. ‘Tell us!’ they say. ‘Tell us here and now, and then maybe when you dither again for a year someone else will take your idea and flog it down the river!’
Their attention is unnerving, and I look over my shoulder. My bland room stares back at me. I turn back. “It’s about stuff,” I finish lamely. I’m not falling for that old chestnut.
And so, I blow off the dust and start again at the Prologue. The itch to rewrite and meddle again comes over me, and before I know it I have deconstructed and rebuilt the first paragraph. Oh when does this constant fiddle ever stop? I think I was happy with the prologue once. I think I am happier with it now. Gosh, is this the story that will never end though, one wonders? Okay, the prologue is now done. Again. At least, I am not touching it until after lunch. Sighs.
“But it’s not just about the 1940’s!” I tell my words crossly. “It’s about…” I stop, as my words lean forward eagerly. ‘Tell us!’ they say. ‘Tell us here and now, and then maybe when you dither again for a year someone else will take your idea and flog it down the river!’
Their attention is unnerving, and I look over my shoulder. My bland room stares back at me. I turn back. “It’s about stuff,” I finish lamely. I’m not falling for that old chestnut.
And so, I blow off the dust and start again at the Prologue. The itch to rewrite and meddle again comes over me, and before I know it I have deconstructed and rebuilt the first paragraph. Oh when does this constant fiddle ever stop? I think I was happy with the prologue once. I think I am happier with it now. Gosh, is this the story that will never end though, one wonders? Okay, the prologue is now done. Again. At least, I am not touching it until after lunch. Sighs.
Sunday, 28 December 2008
Good King Stephen
Like Wenceslas, I looked out upon a feast of Stephen, but my feast was the 800 or so pages of Stephen King’s novel from this year, Duma Key.
I am a big fan of Stephen King’s ability to make people disappear into his stories, and this quality was something I particularly appreciated whilst commuting. I wouldn’t say I am a fan of horror writing, but I am a fan of any author that can do this conjuring trick. I also admire the longevity of his stories; the way they creep and linger in your mind way after the book has been shut and put back on the shelf.
Duma Key is a very long book, yet it didn’t outstay its welcome with superfluous passages, as I didn’t feel the need to skim and skip over the surface. I fell into the book very quickly with the excitement readers get when they know they are about to tumble down a good rabbit hole, and for the first 500 or so pages I barely surfaced for air. Yet for me the pace didn’t last, as the brilliant atmosphere built from the beginning finally congealed and trickled away with an unconvincing denouement. Similar descriptions from ‘It’, similar sleight of hand from ‘The Shining’, similar feeling from one of his shorter stories, The Langoliers – and somehow each one meant more in its previous state than here in its reincarnation.
But having said that, this is still a very good book – I am just inordinately fussy when it comes to my favourite writers. I want to be astounded each and every time, and have my investment in their world pay back a dividend of hours well spent. Duma Key was a good investment in that sense, it may not be the best book for me from Stephen King’s extensive back catalogue, but it certainly had the power to hold my attention, and capture my imagination.
It also made me want to write.
I am a big fan of Stephen King’s ability to make people disappear into his stories, and this quality was something I particularly appreciated whilst commuting. I wouldn’t say I am a fan of horror writing, but I am a fan of any author that can do this conjuring trick. I also admire the longevity of his stories; the way they creep and linger in your mind way after the book has been shut and put back on the shelf.
Duma Key is a very long book, yet it didn’t outstay its welcome with superfluous passages, as I didn’t feel the need to skim and skip over the surface. I fell into the book very quickly with the excitement readers get when they know they are about to tumble down a good rabbit hole, and for the first 500 or so pages I barely surfaced for air. Yet for me the pace didn’t last, as the brilliant atmosphere built from the beginning finally congealed and trickled away with an unconvincing denouement. Similar descriptions from ‘It’, similar sleight of hand from ‘The Shining’, similar feeling from one of his shorter stories, The Langoliers – and somehow each one meant more in its previous state than here in its reincarnation.
But having said that, this is still a very good book – I am just inordinately fussy when it comes to my favourite writers. I want to be astounded each and every time, and have my investment in their world pay back a dividend of hours well spent. Duma Key was a good investment in that sense, it may not be the best book for me from Stephen King’s extensive back catalogue, but it certainly had the power to hold my attention, and capture my imagination.
It also made me want to write.
Thursday, 25 December 2008
Happy Christmas!
I have already laid down my great escape plans for today – various Christmas’ past have taught me to be as wily as the Cooler King when it comes to certain family get-togethers. So before I double-check the map and the motor-bike, I shall take this opportunity to wish you all a lovely day today, however you celebrate it, and a peaceful and happy time in 2009.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)