That “Two Friends” story I’ve got listed in my Writing Projects?
Like, 74,000 words worth of finished. Polished until it shines finished, with all the gaps filled and extraneous scenes cut and the happy ever after given a little bit of spice. Totally finished.
Also finished is the synopsis and the query letter, so forgive me if I come hide out here for a while before I press ‘send’ on the submit page of Carina Press…
Filed under Life, Writing
Finally, the last assignment is done. My ghost story (which I sweated blood over, but lest said about that, soonest mended) is done and printed, and now I am in the final throes of printing my little booklet, The Importance of Being an Airship.
It is online too, here at Scribd.
The Importance of Being an Airship
I have no idea what that’s going to look like, but I need breakfast!
Filed under Lincoln, Writing
I make things. It’s what I do.
I’ve been chewing stuff over in my head a lot over the past few weeks – I’ve been super busy but work doesn’t occupy my brain fully, so there’s always a corner which continues to whirr away whilst the rest of me freewheels through accounts and taking orders and dealing with the day-to-day minutiae of running a business.
Part of the reason I’ve been so off kilter is because the only thing I’ve been making recently is a bloody mess. My house looks like a typhoon just went through it, and not the interesting jet-powered sort either. But I’ve not written or done any of the other things I do when I need to make.
Today, I had to wait around in the house for some chap to come and fix my washing machine which had chewed up and then regurgitated the solid concrete block that’s used as a counterbalance for the spin cycle. Gritty grey dust everywhere. I couldn’t focus enough to write, but I did cook. I made two batches of soup – curried parsnip and a general vegetable to use up some of the veg that the local gamekeeper drops off for us every other week – and mince pies and a pumpkin pie, and I roasted a half shoulder of lamb for dinner. My kitchen smells FABULOUS. It sounds so simple, but the last few weeks have been so batshit crazy that I’ve not really cooked anything properly since I made Christmas puddings the day after we came back from Holland.
It felt really good.
So now I’m sat here with a ball of yarn and I’m working on a blanket which I’ve been meaning to make forever. I’ve had the dozen bright balls of rainbow coloured softness in a bag for a while, and it’s incredibly soothing to have something to do with my hands whilst I read. I open something on my laptop/iPad/Kindle and I can sit and read and knit/crochet, occupying both hands and brain and I feel like I’m not wasting my time by sitting idle. Currently I’m reading through Windmills - I used the opening chapter in the symposium and it went a lot better than I thought. Maybe I should have stuck around for a little more peer feedback, but I just wanted to hide in the corner and cough some more. One day I might stop being such an introvert.
So yeah, I’m making stuff. Who knows, maybe I’ll even make sense if I work at it hard enough.