Boob Pencil

Big Branna

2007-08-31T22:10:00.001Z

It seems to be the done thing on Big Brother to run names together (Samanda, Bramanda, Chiggy) so I guess we'll have to start calling Ms LRB "Big Branna".

I suddenly realised how many Friday evenings I've spent now, slobbing out with a beer and some chocolate, me in my rocking chair and Ally opposite me on the sofa, the telly between us, him with half an eye on his laptop so that he can read Anna's Live Blogging Things whilst simultaneously watching Big Brother, reading the best bits out loud to me, and us both laughing a lot. And every now and then I say wonderingly, "I know her! I've met her!" and then I tell Ally stupid messages he should type to Anna and her readers, like, "Oh yes, tell them that funny thing about the ocelets you just read out to me that you found on the internet," or "I'm mesmerised by this ad, there's a gorilla playing drums to Phil Collins... I really like that song you know, I'm sorry but I do... what the fuck? What's it got to do with chocolate? Ask them what it's got to do with chocolate!" and other such nonsenseries. I'm suspect he never types them in, he just writes random nonsense in TypePad to appease me.

Ahem. Friday nights. Er... bath.

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How Am I?

2007-08-31T22:05:00.000Z

I found myself asking myself, "How am I?" just now. When I realised I was running my fifth bath this week, and that nightly baths is something I only do when I'm quite chilled out and not running around every evening doing mad Doingy Stuff right the way up till way past bedtime.

So I thought, "Does this mean I'm all right?"

Well, maybe. I'm still jittery though, not very relaxed. My life at the moment is like this big long walk through a whole Load Of Stuff which keeps being there and not going away, like Trying To Have Babies and Trying To Get Published and Trying To Be A Mum and Trying To Earn A Living, all crowding around me and being a bit much. But then I thought, isn't this just what my life is always like, with me constantly trying to Do Things all the time and Making Plans and looking forward to tomorrow, next week, next year when everything will be Sorted Out because of all this stuff I'm putting myself through in the here and present, but I never actually arrive?

Hmm.

Ah well.

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Heroes

2007-08-31T17:21:00.000Z

So, that Heroes thing, is it any good?

Ricky Gervais (on Richard & Judy) he say yes, but the clips look bloody awful.

What do you lot reckon?

Not that you're there. Presumably most of you are still typing the purpleocity url into your browsers... but I ain't there. I'm here. Ah well.

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Whump

2007-08-30T07:14:00.000Z

This is rather a relief. I thought my house was falling down!

It's happened before so I recognised the feel of it but it's still disconcerting, particularly when you're in the attic and wide awake, as I was. It was as though the whole room got shoved violently to one side by a giant hand, and then wobbled itself back to the correct position.

It wasn't as bad as last time though, when I was so convinced the house was falling down I ran out into the street. This time I just looked out of the window, wondering if a car had crashed into the house.

Then I thought maybe the boiler had exploded, a wall had collapsed, a burglar had smashed the front door through, an old mine under the house had caved in or a giant was standing outside and shoving my house. But I was too much of a wimp to go and investigate and couldn't be bothered waking the other 'alf up (whose snoring I had only just fleed), so I lay awake pondering various Scenarios Of Doom before falling asleep and dreaming Felix had fallen out of bed.

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The Tunnel

2007-08-29T21:34:00.000Z

Me and Felix have been having lots of mother-son-bonding school holiday fun. Running in and out of the fountains in Piccadilly Gardens and getting soaking wet, making weird shapes with his body in Cirt Art Gallery's right-angled mirrors, visiting Stockport Hat Museum and then, today, going in search of tunnels.

According to yesterday's Manchester Evening News, some builders discovered a tunnel, a home-made, and well-made, tunnel. With electric light, ventilation, proper scafoolding reinforcement and room to walk in. With a wheelbarrow and shovels, and an entrance covered by wood and earth. Its apparent destination? A cashpoint in a Blockbuster video store.

So me and Felix went looking for it, and found it. I was of course tempted to scale the fence surrounding the building site and have a closer look, but being in charge of a 5-yr-old as I was, common sense prevailed.

The tunnel was about 20 metres long and they had only another 5 metres to go. They must have been at it for weeks. The police couldn't work out what they'd done with all the earth. And having visited the site this is even more inexplicable: as far as I can see there was no eay access to where the tunnel must have started. No alleyways or gates, just railway embankment and high walls and fences. Did they have their own train?? Did they wear fluorescent workmen's clothing and stroll around blatantly (amazing what you can get away with if you're wearing a uniform)? What did they think when the builders turned up on the adjacent vacant plot and started digging? Were they watching? Did they work on the site themselves?

Intriguing stuff. And is this the kind of thing that sticks in a 5-yr-old's mind? You're always aware that you might be forming memories, but probably not the ones you think.

Brilliant.

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Nostalgia

2007-08-27T13:37:00.000Z

I spent the weekend at a family wedding in York, which is where I grew up. Due to an unexpected turn, I found myself within stamping distance of a few landmarks from my teens, whose memories are particularly clear from having transcribed all those diary entries.

I walked around a particular neighbourhood, taking in the following sights:

1. Kirsty's grandfather's house. I was dying to knock on the door and be reminded what it was like inside, but I doubt he's there any more. The distinctive windows were enough. It probably wouldn't be the same inside anyway.

2. The house of My First Requited Love, who I met later on in 1985. Judging by the car outside, I reckon his father still lives there. That was odd. I was tempted to knock on, but what would I have said? I have some strong memories of that house.

3. Philip's house. Or rather, Philip's parents' house, as he long since left home. This one I couldn't resist: I rang the doorbell. His sister was there, and she kindly let me in to relive old times. It's barely changed at all. It's an enormous house and has always been full of Philip's many family members and various other hangers-on. Philip's mother is the kind of woman who loves to gather people around her and look after them all, and she has the space to do it in. It's one of the reasons I used to love going there - such a warm and chaotic sense of inclusion.

I was almost expecting to see the soot stains on the ceiling, from where Philip threw a large tub of turps into the fire when we were redecorating his bedroom (what he claimed was that it would be fine, what he got was a fireball and a layer of black smoke, which lingered - trapped in the high ceiling - for weeks), but they seem to have repainted since then. When I was 14 and still worshiping Philip mostly from afar, I used to cycle up and down the road hoping to catch a glimpse of him through the windows. Ah, the obsessions of youth.

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Girls' Fun - Part Twenty

2007-08-27T13:32:00.000Z

[I'm transcribing edited highlights of a diary I kept when I was 15 / 16 years old, in 1985. Index here.]

[For previous instalment, see here]

Mon 6th May, 1985 (Young Clare is 15 years old)

Was away from school so should’ve revised but didn’t. Just did nowt all day and pretended to revise. Rang Chris, to make sure he wasn’t depressed after yesterday. In fact, he was incredibly chirpy!

Tue 7th May, 1985

Nowt much happened today. Let slip at school that Kirsty got a letter from Neil K and everyone was asking what was in it but I said I didn’t know.
Apparently Eddie fucks every night and is a complete pervert (slight exaggeration by Helen, I think). I find this hard to believe as it took him a few days to get around to even kissing me, and in all the seven weeks I went out with him he never got any further.
Me and Alison have decided to stick together in 6th year, as otherwise we will be alone.
One of Mum’s friends rang this eve to ask me to babysit and I answered the phone in one of my accents. She sounded rather bewildered.
Actually did some revision this eve! Spent rest of evening organising route and other details for mine and Sally’s cycling hols, and composing postcards to Philip in my head.
Apparently Heather has told Kirsty she’s having a party in Philip’s cellar, but I walked home with Philip, and he knows nowt about it! Doubt Heather’ll invite me, cos of Kirsty.

Wed 8th May, 1985

In English this morning we had some Soviet students in the lesson. They were v. quiet and mousy and didn’t join in much at all.
In History I went and sat with Elena cos Sharon wasn’t at school and left Kirsty sat all on her own cos Clare was away too. I bitched about Kirsty to Elena then vowed to myself I wouldn’t bitch any more, cos it makes me worse than her, but an hour later I found myself at it again. I’m going to have to stop.
In the afternoon I had no school, cos our English group went to see a film of Romeo and Juliet. Was v. good. Also went to say Goodbye to Old People’s Home cos won’t be going again. They were v. touched.
Babysat for Benjy and Miriam in evening. They are v. cute. Did some more Geog revision.

Thurs 9th May, 1985

First O-levels! : French oral. Went v. well. Probably full marks.

Rachel’s still subtly trying to get me and Kirsty together again. At dinnertime her and Kirsty went out to sit on field and Rachel said: ‘Coming with us, Clare?’ Stupid nit!
Walked partway home with Philip. Kirsty was walking down the road too, in a mood cos she was going into town on her own cos she’d asked Neil to go in with her but he said he couldn’t.
Rachel said today in front of Kirsty that she’d be able to share a flat with me, but not Kirsty cos it wouldn’t work. Talk about tactless!
Drama was quite fun. Me and Omar were back to normal again, ie REMOTE.
Went to Philip’s on way to Drama to borrow a record, then went to Youth Hostel and joined YHA, but gave Matthew the YHA stuff with Philip’s record (I only borrowed it for Matthew) by mistake, so I still couldn’t plan our cycling route.
I’m going to have to give Philip up: He told John that I’d asked him out four times, and I’ve never even asked him once! I tried to stop people asking him at the YTY party, cos I knew he’d say no!
John’s having a party, and Philip said to John he’d only go if I didn’t ask him out! Stupid bastard! It’s really upset me. I’ve half a mind to have it out with him but I think I’ll just give him up instead.

Fri 10th May, 1985

GERMAN ORAL. Oral was awful. If I’m aiming on an ‘A’ I’ll have to do loads of revision for the other 75% of the exam.
Had it out with Philip after school and he says he said nowt o’ t’ sort and I believe him. Rachel told him it was their fault he’d been asked out at the party and he slapped her across the face!

Sat 11th May, 1985

Rachel was s’posed to be calling at 1pm for us to go into town but I overslept and was still in bed when she called! So we were a bit late. Met Chris, Stephen, Richard and Matthew and went straight to a café. It was horrible. Much worse than last week or the week before. Stephen did nothing but talk and all he said was awful things about me. He made me out to be practically a whore and said more and more awful things about me, and he didn’t even mean to get at me! He thought he was just joking! In the end I got up and walked off and burst into tears.
Later when I went for my bike I bumped into Rach and Matt. Rach was really concerned. Apparently when I’d walked off Stephen had just thought I was trying to get attention.
I went round town with Rach and Matt til 6.30 then I went babysitting and Rach and Matt came round. He was trying to get her to lose her virginity but she wouldn’t.
Stephen’s really upset me. I just can’t think how he could be so insensitive!

Sun 12th May, 1985

Pretended to revise all day, but didn’t. Planned cycling holiday instead. All the hostels are now booked and paid for, and everything’s arranged.

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Secret Notes

2007-08-27T11:10:00.000Z

How funny to be writing this in semi-secret. I don't know how many of you have found this. I guess I should check my stats, and then I'd know.

Anyway, I am very-very fatigued, and as usual am convinced I'm pregnant. Never mind that I've had a hectic week with unusual and inconsistent sleep patterns, oh no, it can't be that. I must be pregnant.

I'll find out at the beginning of next week anyway, and if I am I won't be able to resist broadcasting it to the world, so we'll all know pretty soon.

I'm looking forward to next week. Felix goes back to school on Tuesday, so from then onwards I'll be setting up a proper new routine and making a serious go of this Full Time Writer lark. I have a few things in the pipeline - I've written a piece for the Guardian and swapped a couple of emails with an editor there. It's not definite, but will be wonderful if it happens. Also I've got some paid work running a creative writing workshop in November, and various other bits and bobs. I'm going to a storytelling meeting next Fri which I'm very much looking forward to, I'm going to put some concerted effort into getting some IT-related writing work, I'm going to start work on Novel III, but of course the other Big Thing is my book.

There are still agents I'm waiting to hear back from, and I've set a deadline of this Friday to make a decision. So one way or another, I will have an agent as from next Monday. If it's the one who is currently my favourite, he'll start work straight away. The idea that publishers may be looking at my book very soon indeed is both exciting and terrifying. Crunch time approaches.

In the meantime I've been having a bit of a dilemma. The question is how much the book needs editing before it's shown to publishers. It has flaws, of course it does. And I'm never 100% happy with anything I do, so I'm vulnerable to criticism, particularly when it chimes with my own doubts. The thing about this book is that it has two aspects: On the one hand it's about psychological magic, of the kind that Derren Brown does. That's quite straightforward and everyone, I think without exception, loves that aspect of it. But it's also about people, because I'm endlessly fascinated by people and how they behave towards one another. And that aspect of it is quite complex. A lot of relationships crossing and looping back on top of one another.

I've been wondering whether I should try and streamline that aspect of it - try and make it a bit clearer. But a weakness for one is a strength for another, and there are people who really like that about the book. The risk is that by making major changes at this late stage, I just end up breaking the whole book.

And although I sometimes have my doubts about the tangled relationship stuff, I also like it. I love complexity, and perhaps I should work on that enthusiasm and enhance it as a strength, rather than trying to edit it out.

And seeing as there are people who have experience and appear to know what they're talking about who say the book is fine and needs little editing... maybe I should let well alone. There's no such thing as a perfect book, and I've had a hell of a lot of positive feedback so far.

So, here we go. I'll know more in a week's time. Ooh!

And eek.

And ooh!

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Temporariness

2007-08-27T11:04:00.000Z

Hello and congratulations, all those who have managed to find me.

My hosting server appears to have gone down, so the purpleocity url isn't working at the moment.

Purpleocity are a small non-profit-making community organisation, who charge practically nothing - indeed, I have a horrible feeling nobody has asked me for any money for a while, so it may be inadvertently free - and are run by volunteers, so I can't really complain when things go wrong.

Now that I am A Professional Writer, I really ought to be paying someone proper money for a proper service, and I shall bump it up The List, but for the time being I have this TEMPORARY new url of claresudbery.blogspot.com, but your best bet is always to use www.boobpencil.co.uk, which I always redirect to wherever I happen to be camping out.

I just got back off a week's holiday in the Lakes, followed by a family wedding in York, so I have a lot of boring stuff to catch up on. I might manage a proper blog post this evening, but in the meantime I'll post another Girls' Fun instalment.

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toobusy

2007-08-16T11:52:00.000Z

Oh arse...

Weddings and agents and books and holidays and children and holidays and weddings and anniversaries and books and ARGH and agents and shopping and broken cars and new shoes and presents and weddings and oh fuck, cards, forgot cards, and ARGH and...

[implosion]

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My cousins

2007-08-14T17:09:00.000Z

Last week it was my cousin B jumping off cliffs. This week it's my cousin H (B's sister) swallowing worms.

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Girls' Fun - Part Nineteen

2007-08-13T11:21:00.000Z

[I'm transcribing edited highlights of a diary I kept when I was 15 / 16 years old, in 1985. Index here.]

[For previous instalment, see here]

Mon 29th April, 1985 (Young Clare is 15 years old)

Sally reckons mine and Chris’s friendship is going to mature so much that we’ll end up going out with each other. Hope not, for her sake.
Have decided to have a party at Holmefield Centre, ‘cept I can think of loads of girls to invite, but can only think of 30 boys and if I want even numbers of each that only makes 60, and it’s well known only 2/3 of those invited ever turn up, and 40 isn’t really enough for H Centre. Oh well, ne’er mind…
Have rung Sally and she thinks cycling holiday is a great idea.
This morning a dull voice at my elbow said “Good morning, Clare,” and there was John. Couldn’t ignore him. Apparently he was seething on Sat and went straight home, but met Chris on Sun and made it up, and was supposed to be meeting Matt to make it up with Chris, ’cept Matt got the time wrong and went home again.
Had a long talk with Rach today. Apparently Matt loves her NIPPLES!!! He thinks they’re the best part of her!
She’s got it into her head that it would be a great idea to get me and Chris together but I told her I couldn’t, cos of Sally. Rachel commented on what good friends her and me have become lately. I agreed. I’m glad she’s noticed too.
During our long discussion, we weren’t taking a lot of notice of Kirsty, who walked off in a huff and told a load of bloody first years how immature I am and how she’s always hated me. The first years consequently told me. TWO-FACED BITCH! Everyone else agreed with me wot a swine she is, and I ignored her for the rest of the day. I have no idea how she reacted, cos I honestly took no notice of her whatsoever. I’m glad we’ve fallen out – it’s put me in a good mood and as long as there’s no actual argument (I hate arguments), then it’s fine by me.
Oh dear, it’s not fair. Rachel’s leaving – and Kirsty’s staying on at school! Help! I really do wish I was going to 6th form college now.

Tue 30th April, 1985

Wonderful news! Sally rang this afternoon, and her mum’s had a great idea! They’re going on holiday on a barge in the Peak District after the exams and there’s a spare place, and I can go too! Whoopee! I’ve always wanted to go on a barge!
Kirsty’s said she’s done so many awful things to me she doesn’t know what it could be that I’m ignoring her for.
Rachel had her interview for tech today. She’s got the place! Well done, Rach.

Wed 1st May, 1985

Me and Kirsty still not speaking: Apparently she’s been saying what a bitch I am to people, ’cept they’ve been sticking up for me.
Went to old people’s home in afternoon. I actually enjoyed it for once. They were all pleased to see me and me and Sharon tidied a pantry out for the cooks: something I love doing.
This eve I got to thinking about what I’d wear tomorrow and I ended up making a gorgeous top out of an old pair of trousers! Looks v. good!

Thurs 2nd May, 1985

Went to Rachel’s after school and saw loads of photos of her when she was little. She was a really cute kid!
Saw Philip in bike sheds after school. He had a message for me but he couldn’t remember it.
Kirsty’s not staying on after all! Yippee! But she might be going to tech with Rach, which means Rach will stay with Kirsty and we’ll lose touch altogether.
I’ve got to do “ENVIRONMENTAL SCIENCE” instead of Computer Studies cos it fits on timetable better.
John thought Matt was ignoring him at drama, so they were ignoring each other, and Chris was too, and Stephen was being awful to Matt, and those three all seemed to have ganged up on him: I was the only one speaking to him, and afterwards Chris was really depressed about it, so when I got home I rang Matthew and his parents answered and said he was pretty upset, and then I spoke to Matt and he was determined to bash up Stephen next week for leading them on, but in the end me and his parents arranged for everyone (’cept Stephen) to go for lunch at Matt’s on Sunday and sort it all out.
Everyone was being really nice and friendly with me at Drama. Including Omar. Stephen asked Joanna out, and Jo said she’d tell him next week, but she’d told me she’d string him along and then say No. STUPID BITCH!

Fri 3rd May, 1985

Apparently Matt told Rach he had a really tickly spot and if she wanted to know where she should ask me so I told her it was the inside of his thighs… she didn’t inquire any further.
Last night Matt’s Dad told me that he thought I was ‘better quality’ than Rach, and he thought Matt had made a mistake. Oh dear.
Me and Rach were talking 9 to doz at dinnertime ’bout Matt, etc, and Kirsty woz just sat, totally left out, stony-faced.
Went to see play that Richard’s in at Arts Centre tonight. Patrick, Stephen, Chris, Omar, Joanna T, Rebecca, Joanna W, Rachel O, Rachel D and me all went. Chuck M was in it and Alex M was there! Apparently Chuck goes to Patrick, Omar and Joanna’s school. Apparently Joanna W will speak to me but can’t stand me (I’m not supposed to know) so I’m being v. cool towards her, the two-faced sod. You just wouldn’t believe how nice she is to my face!
Jo T gave Stephen a great long spiel about her being too old and it wouldn’t work etc. He said he was getting bored!
There was a bit of nudging going on with Omar and me, and apparently Jo T thought he fancied me, cos he kept looking at me, and she asked him, and he said no, so she told him I fancied him, and I’ve never said owt of the sort!
The play was absolutely ace, and Chuck M did some fab dancing in it. Ace!
Stephen’s delighted Matt wants a fight and can’t wait, even though me and the two Rachels scorned him for it completely.
Something’s wrong with Chris. He was really quiet and I think maybe he’s fed up with the way I flirt with everyone and am so fickle.
Me and Rach had to wait for a bus in the street and there was a crowd of football fans walking towards us and shouting and we were terrified and just frantically trying to ignore ’em.
Stephen had to ring his Dad to ask if he could be late and I don’t know what his Dad said to him but he walked straight out and I went out to him and he was crying! I didn’t know what to do. He obviously didn’t want me to see him cry. He said ‘just go away’ so I just squeezed his arm sympathetically and said ‘see you’ and went. It was v. touching.

Sat 4th May, 1985

Spent morning trying to decide whether or not to go into town. Persuaded myself I had to in end, cos of getting stuff for exams. Met Patrick, Chris, Stephen and Richard, but was mostly disregarded and got bored so I went home, then went to Rachel’s and we watched Private Benjamin (the video). Did no revision.

Sun 5th May, 1985

Chris rang me up last night. He had to whisper cos he was babysitting but we had a great long chat and he said how nervous he was about coming to Matthew’s today. Anyway, I called for Rachel and we cycled the 5 miles to Matthew’s house together and it took us half an hour, and soon after Chris and John arrived. We had the barbecue, and that was great, then we played Billy and watched videos but Chris got depressed again cos he thought Matt was going off with John and he went home soon after. Oh dear.
Then John was depressed cos he thought Matt and Chris were splitting up again, then Rach got fed up cos Matt was outside and leaving her to do the washing-up, but she cheered up.
Then Matt started driving the car up and down the drive (parents were out) and he crashed the car and dented the bumper!
Then we just mucked about all afternoon. Gemma, Matt’s sister, is really nice.

_

Guest Blogging!

2007-08-12T12:31:00.000Z

I do have the most rubbish memory in the whole history of the world ever so I may have got this wrong, but I don't think I've ever been specifically invited to guest-post on someone else's blog. But even if I have, that's the beauty of killing all your brain cells before the age of 25: You get to be excited about the same things, over and over again.

So, anyway. I've been asked to guest-post over at Non-Working Monkey's gaff while she goes on her hols, and I'm very excited about it, so much so that I barely waited until her feet left British soil, and have posted it already.

Enjoy.

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Moments of Sadness

2007-08-11T12:03:00.000Z

They keep jumping up at me out of nowhere, and I'm sick of it.

Depression is something I stopped suffering from in any serious sense many years ago, and it's really pissing me off that it's back in my life. It's only mild compared to what many people experience - I'm not clinically depressed or anything - but I keep getting sad and tearful, and it seems to be all about the hormonal / procreation thing.

According to CBT, which I'm always extolling the virtues of and used so successfully against debilitating anxiety (and anxiety and depression are very similar in many ways) I should just tell it to go away, not give in to it, counter the catastrophic thoughts. I'm just not in the habit of doing that in relation to depression. So time to try changing my habits, I guess.

This whole making-babies thing is a pain in the arse. Well, apart from the actual making-babies thing - that part is nice - it's all the peripheral stuff that's the problem. Disappointments every 28 days, then pregnancies that go wrong. I just want to get it all out of the way, move on.

But the book stuff is great. Actually that's partly what's pissing me off: I want to be all excited about the book, and I am, but it keeps being tainted by all this lingering miscarriage sadness and monthly menstrual merry-go-round.

Pah.

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Tickling Sister Man Feet Kidnapped

2007-08-11T09:08:00.000Z

Apparently somebody landed at Boob Pencil today after typing "Tickling Sister Man Feet Kidnapped" into a search engine.

Maybe I really don't want to know the answer, but I confess I'm intrigued. Somebody who has a fetish for incestuous foot-based coercive sex? Somebody who was driving in their car and dreaming about appearing on Richard and Judy with Radio 4 droning on in the background and suddenly they realised the newsreader was describing an intriguing news item but by the time they started concentrating on it, all they got was something to do with sisters, tickling, feet and kidnappings, so they had to go look it up? Maybe a man was kidnapped by his sister, who then tickled his feet and refused to stop until their parents paid the ransom?

I'll probably never know.

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Tenterhooks

2007-08-11T08:13:00.001Z

It's quite hard to write about this stuff honestly and strike a balance between not showing off too much, not putting any prospective agents off, not betraying anyone's privacy... but I'll try.

Several literary agents have promised to get back to me next week, which means that this weekend there are a whole load of Influential People reading my book. This week I've received emails saying things like, "I am LOVING Xxxx Xxxxxx ... PLEASE bear with me until Tuesday," and "I liked it a lot, so I'm not at all surprised that someone speedier has jumped on it. It's very fresh and original with a lovely, self-assured and witty narrative voice," so, well, next week could be pretty exciting.

But, well...

(and isn't there always a but? I think I need to go on some kind of But Diet)

...first of all, I feel guilty for being so greedy. One agent has already waxed lyrical about how good the book is and is eager to represent me. I can only have one! It's not like job-hunting, when you can register with several agencies. And it also means I can relax, as whatever happens this weekend I'm still sorted.

I can't remember what the other but was. Probably something to do with, this is only the first step. Even if I get the best agent in the world, that's no guarantee anyone will sell the book to a publisher.

God, it's such a tortuous process. It's now eight years since I started writing my first book, and I'm only just in the process of getting number 2 published, and still can't count on anything. If this book gets published, it won't happen until at least another year from now. Chances are whoever takes me on will attempt to sell the book at the Frankfurt Book Fair in October, and I wouldn't get paid for another few months after that, so I still have to look for other work...

But (and this is one of those fat-free buts) NEVER MIND ALL THAT! Things are happening. Things I dreamt of, and then stopped daring to dream of. People saying nice things about my book. People being EXCITED about my book. People being EAGER to sell it for me. I mean, maybe, just possibly... it might actually be a good book? One which will end up on a book shop shelf?

Supposedly The Dying of Delight sat on some bookshop shelves, but I never saw it there. That's what happens with a small publisher. They can't afford to buy space on the shelves of Waterstone's, for a start. After the first few disappointing experiences of walking into Borders and Waterstones and hunting, without success, for my book on their shelves, I gave up trying. And now it's out of print (but loads of people liked it and you can still buy it from me, hint hint).

BUT NEVER MIND ALL THAT. Good things are happening. And to remind myself of that, here are all the nice things literary agents have been saying about my book:

"I am LOVING Xxxx Xxxxxx ... PLEASE bear with me until Tuesday."
"I liked it a lot, so I'm not at all surprised that someone has jumped on it. It's very fresh and original with a lovely, self-assured and witty narrative voice."
"I love the idea of psychic dancing! ... I'll look forward to reading this."
"There are lots of things I like about the book, in fact rather admire it"
"fascinating and very quirky. Original too."
"There’s much that I admire about the novel"
"I can see why someone has offered you representation ... I was impressed by [the book] ..."
"I was struck by the fascinating story at the heart of the book and by your engaging writing style"
"richly descriptive and absorbing"
"the concept is a very interesting one"
"the premise is fantastically original and interesting and your writing strong"
"I was really grabbed by the opening of Xxxx Xxxxxx, loved the title, and was really keen to read it."
"you are a gifted writer because you can describe very complex human relationships and you have a lovely fresh style ... your writing has something special about it"
"I read the first section last night having waded through a month's worth of slush
pile submissions and yours shone out like a beacon ... sizzles with energy and imagination ... it's a wonderful novel. The rest of the book more than lives up to the promise of its opening chapters."
"I was very excited by the ambitious concept of the novel ... You are great on atmosphere and mood..."
"the writing style is fantastic"

Of course, some of these were followed by some very fatty buts indeed, but some of them WEREN'T, and that's what counts. The rest of them just said they were "enjoying it" which of course, in my newfound greediness, doesn't satisfy my superlative quota at ALL.

OK, my ego is duly stoked. And stroked. And now I shall eat some breakfast and dream of Richard & Judy.

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Gods Behaving Badly

2007-08-10T09:51:00.000Z

I haven't even read Marie's new book yet, but I did hold one in my hand at a friend's house the other night (more on that evening later, I hope) and IT IS GORGEOUS.

I also read the first couple of pages and was instantly grabbed and I am now hovering impatiently around my letter box waiting for my copy which hasn't arrived yet.

It reminded me of how very nice books can be, as physical objects - and why (among other reasons) I'm so keen on publishers like Cape and Canongate; they have such beautiful covers (y'know, just in case anyone from Cape or Canongate are reading this, and feel they'd like to do something similar for Xxxx Xxxxxx, like...).

And not only is Marie's cover utterly scrummy, there are loads of beautiful little woodcut prints (or something like) on the frontispiece and title pages, and the whole thing is just an immensely pleasing package.

Hurrah for nice things. And now it had better hurry up and arrive, so I can read it.

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Videos

2007-08-07T23:34:00.000Z

1. Hilarious Jesus thing.

2. My cousin B jumping off a cliff.

3. Um, something else. I can't remember what, but I liked it.

(update: I remembered! Thanks to a comment mentioning user manuals. This is actually a very funny thing about user manuals and How To Read A Book and stuff like that. Oh, just watch it. It's funny)

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You've Been Tangoed

2007-08-07T21:26:00.000Z

I was wearing my Festival Hat and Coat Combo (scroll down to the bottom of this page and look at the photo) when I chatted with the young authors, so God knows what they made of me.

And earlier on that evening, one of the many Happy Drunken Young Men in attendance approached me and asked me to show his mate my hat and coat, cos he's "really into ginger stuff," and seeing as his mate was horizontal at the time, I thought it only right and proper that I stand foot to foot and then topple over on top of him and give him a Giant Fluffy Orange Hug before strolling away.

He seemed surprised.

What?

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Miles and Dominic Davies

2007-08-07T21:13:00.001Z

Ooh, I just remembered these two. I have to tell you about them.

I was dancing late at night to The Blockheads (they were great, and that reminds me to find out who was doing Ian Dury's bit, cos he was particularly great), and on the grass next to me was a pre-teen boy in a deckchair, reading a book and paying no attention to the band.

I thought maybe he was doing some kind of homework, because his book was covered in notes and scribbles. But I was close enough to see what kind of scribbles, and they were just the kind you'd make on a manuscript: Individual words crossed out, and new sentences inserted at specific points.

In the end I was so intrigued I crouched down next to him and asked about it. Turned out he was 12 years old, and holding the latest version of a book he and his 18-year-old brother are writing together, which he was in the process of redrafting. Later on the older brother appeared, and told me he's been writing since he was six, and this is what he does: he's a writer.

I gave some vague advice on coming up with a title (the current one is Rays of Hope, and they're not happy with it), but sadly I wasn't together enough to find out any more. They don't have a publisher yet. They did take my name though, so maybe they'll find this. I AM IMPRESSED. That is all (well, unless they'd like editorial / touting-round-publishers input on the manuscript itself, in which case they should contact me, cos I confess I'm mightily intrigued).

Oh yes, and if I manage to get preggers in the next few months and nothing goes wrong, my two kids will also have a six-year age gap, and I love the idea of them sitting on a deckchair in the middle of the night at some future Big Chill, collaborating on their latest book.

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Takes After His Mum

2007-08-07T21:08:00.000Z

Felix, 5 years old: "Something really funny just happened, Mummy."

"Oh yes?"

"Yes, I had my sandwich in my lap and then I looked down and it wasn't there any more and I thought, oh no, someone's stolen my sandwich, and then I found it in my hand!"

"Haha, I do that kind of thing all the time."

"I done it again, Mummy!"

[Mummy laughs]

"I keep doing it again and again and again! What's wrong with me?"

"It's called absent-mindedness, honey. It's hereditary."

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Blobs of Moving Colour

2007-08-07T20:45:00.000Z

As usual, I have reams of notes on fings wot have happened to me in the last week or so, but in a break from tradition I'm not going to promise to write about it all, even though I want to and fully intend to... cos I know from experience that I probably won't find the time.

There have been many emails and phone calls with literary agents. It's all getting a bit hectic, and quite hard to keep tabs on. I have a little text file which I update every time I have contact with an agent, and at the top are five lists of names, which fall into the following categories:
1. Has offered me representation,
2. Has asked to see the full manuscript,
3. Has asked to see a partial manuscript,
4. Has not responded to anything yet,
5. Has rejected me.

The names move up and down the lists. They start at number 4, and then typically move up through 3 and 2, before landing on 5 - but can find their way to 5 at any point during the process. I'd like to turn each name into a coloured blob and animate their movement through the lists; I think it'd look a little like that bouncing balls advert. I currently have a few names sitting at the number 2 spot, and altogether 50% of the agents I've approached have asked to see the whole book. Which is brilliant. And rather daunting. And brilliant.

In other news, the Big Chill got off to a rather weepy start when I did a negative pregnancy test on the first day and was knocked for six by my reaction, which was more upset than I'd expected. And we camped in Family Camping, which was all very well but there were cute toddlers everywhere and I missed Felix (who was on holiday elsewhere with his Aunty Em) and got horribly broody. So I buried my head in Harry Potter Number Seven (sorry, I long ago gave up keeping track of which title is which - I feel safer with numbers) and got frustrated by the Series of Superficial Social Interactions which is the Big Chill.

We've been going there for years, and Ally works there (he comperes / DJs the Sanctuary Stage for 13 hours or so on the Saturday), so we know about a gazillion Big Chillers, and particularly on Saturday when I was being a Sanctuary Stage groupie, there was an awful lot of "Hello, how are you, are you having fun?" to which the only really acceptable answer is "Yeah, great," and then they disappear. It's not anyone's fault - I don't want anyone to give me a deep breakdown of their psyche in circumstances like that any more than they want it from me - and to be fair I did have some proper in-depth conversations with a few people, but I wasn't exactly Mrs Happy and it was a little wearing after a while.

But never mind all that, I heard some great music, I finished HP ('twas great and made me cry, although the hallows themselves seemed a little superfluous) and on the Sunday My Man did an extremely good job of cheering me up, so many hats off to him.

And now I'm alternating between the rather pleasing job of Agent Juggling and the also-pleasant function of Holiday Mum. We're skint, so Felix and I are getting back to the simple enjoyments of packed lunches, climbing trees, fishing in streams, walking up hills and visiting friends. And cuddling. Lots of cuddling.

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Back in a Bit

2007-08-01T22:40:00.001Z

I'm off to the Big Chill festival. I'll be back next Tue (7th Aug), so won't be answering emails 'til then.

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Ooh and aah and bleurgh

2007-08-01T10:36:00.000Z

Oh, I am a little fuzzy-headed today. It's that Lucy Pepper's fault. We spent a long evening last night drinking wine and talking, very fast and very lots. I have to say Grumpy Professor Man was not in the least bit grumpy and was in fact rather charming and clever and lovely, and her kids are cute as buttons. And she's very good at telling stories and doing voices, and she should be on the stage, which I forgot to tell her. Remind me to tell her. Except of course that she's rather good at drawing pictures too, so maybe she doesn't need the stage.

But isn't it nice when you meet someone from t'internet and they are even nicer than you thought they were going to be, and you get on with them even better than do online? We were old friends immediately. And bloody hell, she's an awful lot like Anna (another one who's even better in the flesh). Twins separated at birth, if you ask me.

AND my house is all lovely and clean and tidy, which I always enjoy but never get motivated to sort out unless we have visitors. I approve of this people-coming-to-me lark. Never mind all this nonsense of me trekking down to London for blogmeets. Everyone come to Manchester! I also saw Rob at the weekend cos he's in Manchester for some conference thing, and we had a short-but-nice pub-meet sandwiched between other engagements, and next week I'm going to see Petite and Mike and [anonymous secret other] in [secret location], so I'm rather spoilt for Meeting Nice Bloggy People at the moment. I'm a bit worried about Mike though. He's been hinting (I think, if I understood correctly) that his blogging days may be coming to an end, to which I say nooooooooo, his was the ~~first~~ second blog I ever read. Not allowed.

So anyway, did I mention a literary agent WANTS ME TO BE HIS CLIENT? And WANTS TO SELL MY BOOK? And thinks it is "wonderful" and "sizzling" and might even appeal to a mainstream audience, and has loads of exciting ideas and OH MY GOD I MIGHT FINALLY BE GETTING THERE AT LAST?

I'm being a bit of a Little Madam, I confess, and it's all rather gone to my head and I did promise some other agents that I wouldn't sign anything before they had a chance to get back to me and although I'm still getting rejections, I'm also getting emails along the lines of, "Hang on! Wait for me! I'll read it this week, I promise!" which is all rather surreal and exciting and OH MY GOD and of course it might all come to nothing and none of this is any guarantee that anybody will want to publish the book but I'm suddenly feeling a hell of a lot more excited and optimistic about it all.

And whatever happens, I will now definitely have a literary agent who will try and sell my book on my behalf, and I've never been in this situation before. I had an agent once, but I didn't have a book to sell at the time, so it was all a bit meaningless. But now I will have a cheerleader, someone authoritative who believes in me and wants to help me succeed and probably CAN help me and OH MY GOD (did I say that already?) and OK, I confess that although I've been hugely excited on Marie's behalf (her book, Gods Behaving Badly, is officially published today and has already had several great reviews and people have been spotted reading it on tubes) I've also been just a teensy bit jealous but NO LONGER!

Oh, and I'll find out this weekend whether I'm pregnant or not. I confess I don't feel in the least bit preggers, but, you know, if I am that would make this The Best Week Ever and if I'm not, what the hell, there's always next month and I'm so excited about book stuff I don't really care.

Eek. And ooh, and eurgh, my head.

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Blast-Ended Skrewts

2007-07-31T10:01:00.000Z

I read Harry Potter at bedtime last night, as I have every night for a week or so, and this morning everything I've done has been punctuated by the phrase, "Blast-Ended Skrewts." It's such a great name. Satisfyingly ejaculatory. "Blast-Ended Skrewts!" shouted my subconscious at me at odd sporadic moments, as I...

...got up early and went swimming. Then I fixed up a washing line in the garden and hung some sheets out to dry (in last-minute preparation for Ms Pepper + family coming to stay tonight). Then I went for a ride on a local cycle path - it's an old sunken railway line, with steep banks on each side covered in mature trees and wild flowers, so the whole trip was conducted in lovely dappled shade. Then I ate half a ripe honeydew melon and listened to one of my favourite tracks (The Awakening of a Woman, by Cinematic Orchestra) with the volume turned up to 11 in the bath, and now I'm naked at the computer (sorry, TMI).

Food for all the senses. Summer is here at last.

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