UP AND DOWN AND BACK AGAIN

days in a row

2011-07-26T09:10:00.001+01:00

The key thing missing from my writing recently is writing. A consistent output of writing. I can't remember a period of time greater than two days in a row where I spent time on my novel.

The advice given from anyone and everyone, including myself, is to write everyday, no matter how little you plan to do each day. It's good practice, it keeps you immersed in the story, and it ensures that your novel is always moving forward to its completion.

It's taken me six years to get where I am - but if you added up the number of days that I've sat at the computer or with a notepad to work on the novel, I would doubt it would be more than a year's worth of work. That says something - and I'm not getting any younger.

Fifteen minutes a day sounds realistic. So my goal is at least fifteen minutes a day for the next 100 days starting from yesterday, the day after the harrogate festival.

From one day to the next ... to completion.

Post Harrogate Inspiration

2011-07-25T07:33:00.001+01:00

Despite having little sleep and a lot of social drinking since Wednesday, the Harrogate Festival has once again fired up the creative juices and inspired me. So, I'm up. And writing.

that feeling . . .

2011-07-01T17:05:00.005+01:00

I'm getting that feeling again, that excitement that comes once a year, that urge to write, the belief that I could write 100 novels - and it's all because of this:

must see viewing

2011-03-04T14:21:00.001Z

Quality crime drama - amazing performances - go see it!!

deadline

2010-11-15T14:02:00.005Z

For all those NaNoWriMo writers that find themselves a little bit behind the eight ball at the beginning of this week, I sympathise. I have a deadline - 23 November to be exact - and what I have to attempt to achieve between now and then looks like Lilian Parade used to look like every day after school back in the nineties - one bloody steep hill. Actually, it still is a bloody steep hill.

But it has to be done and it will be done. Having a short term deadline is quite liberating in a way, makes you focus on the task at hand. There's no room for - "I'll do it tomorrow." Nope. It has to be done today, has to be done tonight.

I won't be doing much else other than work and writing for the next week and a bit, all in an attempt to get something worth reading to my in-house editor.

Shame I'll miss all this lovely weather.

my National Novel Writing Month

2010-11-04T13:11:00.004Z

It's November (again?!) and that can only mean one thing - NaNoWriMo!!! Or for those not in the know - National Novel Writing Month. This is the month when everyone in the whole world sits down and tries to write 50,000 words of a brand new novel in one month. Well, everyone who wants to anyway.

I performed this mean task back in 2008 to much success and I thoroughly recommend it to any budding or established writer out there. It's fun too - in retrospect.

I don't know too many people doing it this year, but I do know that my friend Heidi is giving it a crack - so best of luck Heidi!!! And good luck to everyone else too!

As for me, despite the title of this post, no, I am not involved in NaNo this year. However, my November will be filled with writing and novels as well - just not on a national scale.

What's up then? Tell me more.

Well, this month, I will be working my guts out to complete a draft of my novel for my in-house editor by November 23. I have decided that she needs to read it, even if I am only 80-90% happy with it. It's about time someone other than me read this monstrosity!!! And a monster it is too. So fingers crossed on that one.

On non-related news, I still plan to add my Ibiza diaries to the webisphere - currently waiting on Day 6 - but it looks like they will form part of a whole new project that I will release shortly.

Can't keep up writing one blog? Why not try two?!

EIVISSA - siesta break

2010-09-29T18:22:00.002+01:00

I am taking a break from posting EIVISSA updates for at least this weekend.

Why?

Because I am heading back to that lovely Baleric Island for the Ibiza Closing Parties!!

So, when I eventually get up to date with this recount of our trip to EIVISSA back in May, I will tag on a few more days - EIVISSA in Sep/Oct!!

It's party time!!

EIVISSA - talamanca, tapas, and tardy transport - day 5

2010-08-10T17:41:00.017+01:00

Another beautiful morning, waking again to the sound of waves - will I ever get sick of this? I doubt it.

It's an earlier start then usual for no other reason except we all got to bed at a reasonable time last night. Kathy is running along the same route we took yesterday. I've already hung up my runners. Tam is swimming in the ocean, cutting the water like a dolphin or something. I can see her from the balcony - only if I squint and raise my hand. Need sunglasses quick smart.

I can feel my cold coming on a bit stronger now, a little sore throat, a few sniffles and a head full of muck. But I'll power on.

Plans are afoot to take to the cars today. After lunch, we are heading towards Ibiza town and the ferries, keen to catch one to the small island of Formentera. Supposed to be nice.

It's Tuesday today - surprised that I know this. Probably to do with the fact that our final member of the Ibiza Party Crew is arriving tonight from London, aboard the jewel of easyjet's extensive fleet. No doubt the flight will be late, but you never know.

Hard to get everyone organised when we are in such a relaxed mode, but we are finally on our way: a two car train winding along the roads of Ibiza's countryside, destination: Ibiza Town!

And we're late. Too late for the ferry to Formentera. Next one is around four and that won't work either. A shame, but we are in a relaxed mood, so we shrug it off and think of options. Map out, tourist books out, coming up with Plan B.

Talamanca: a small beach just around the corner from Ibiza Town. Close by and easy to get to - that'll do. And it's not too bad, if lacking a little bit of soul. The sands are nice, the water inviting and there's enough bare breasts and tight dick togs about to cater for everyone's tastes. We pull up a couple of umbrellas and lounge chairs, paying the roving money grabber for the privilege.

Harry and Christy are digging in the sand, making holes, making sand castles, using whatever they can get their hands on. Sounds like they are having a good time, despite lacking the required instruments for serious sand castling.

Three tanned, muscle bound, gay men in ball hugging speedos enter and exit the water, one at a time, Daniel Craig style. I wander in also, sans steroid pecs and super size tackle. Our resident married couple plus one wade into the water. The frisbee from the villa gets thrown around. The water's fr-fr-freezing. We return to the beach.

After a few hours, we decide it's time to go our separate ways. Tam, Christy, Paul and Harry will be returning back to San Vincente for dinner and wine at the villa. Kathy and I are heading into Ibiza Town to kill time before heading to the airport. We will also suss out the car park situation in the Town for a potential re-attempt at the ferries tomorrow - but to a different location this time.

Adios to one and all!

Ibiza Town is buzzing with cars, people and tourism. Driving through its one way streets and narrow alleyways is not fun at all. Actually, I'm not driving, Kathy is, but co-ordinating the search for a car park using a map from Lonely Planet is no easy gig either. We find one car park, a dusty old, disused block where a hundred cars have parked in no semblance of order. After some careful negotiation and foolhardy swearing, we decide to look elsewhere. We find a smaller car park which, by luck, has a spare spot.

It's close to six and Ibiza town is winding down. The streets aren't full, mainly due to the fact that we are one week away from busy season. The bus loads won't be arriving for another few days. It's a pleasant wander through the old Town. A bit of shopping is required first: shorts for me (I've been wearing jeans or bathers these past few days) and some sand digging tools for Harry (as requested by Paul and Christy). We are successful on both counts, including a rocking beach kit for Harry.

Text 1: Easyjet flight delayed by an hour.

More time to kill. But not to worry, there's plenty of stuff to discover. We pass disco themed shops for Space and DC10, wander through a shopping and entertainment district that can only be custom made for chavs, and take a stroll along the water line. Returning back a different way, we walk down a street that's filled with gay bars and cafes. See three bronzed gay guys at one of the outside tables - could be the blokes from Talamanca, but hard to recognise them with their packages safely tucked away.

A little bit early for dinner, so we head to the small port in Ibiza Town that services a few small ferry services and a number of private boats. Sitting on the bench near the water, we check out maps and ferry times to places such as Platja d'en Bossa. A few confirming calls to the gang back at San Vincente (who are having a merry old time on the red wine) and we decide the ferries can wait for another day. Instead, Kathy and I devise a smorgasbord of beaches for tomorrow which is met with approval by all.

Time for dinner: at the recommendation of our villa hosts (via their very informative welcome pack), we seek out La Bodega, a restaurant situated at one of the gates to the Dalt Villa. It's nice and warm out and the sun is on the cusp of bedding down for the night, so its perfect for a romantic meal. It takes some time to find the place but worth it in the end. We settle down to some beautiful tapas and lush sangria.

Text 2: Flight delayed again, another hour.

More beautiful tapas, more lush sangria. Around ten, we decide we can't hang around too much longer and we can't keep drinking sangria as Kathy has to drive. So its a bit more walking around Ibiza town, avoiding dark streets and dodgy characters, venturing into the brighter establishment of the Pacha store, and finally making our way back to the car park. Kathy is super tired and I'm listing a little too. It's close to eleven now.

We get lost in the streets of Ibiza town, my orientation and map reading skills reaching a new low when I take us down a one way three lane street, going the wrong way. Ibithans seem a patient bunch, not one horn blast. We get lost on the outskirts of Ibiza town; dead ends and wrong directions. Finally we find the main highway and head to the airport.

The plane is a little later than expected so Kathy pulls up a couch and power snoozes and I wander the airport corridors looking for nothing in particular. Thirty minutes later, the "Arrivals" screen blurs and I can just make out the word "Landed" in capital letters. I rouse Kathy from her slumber and we hover near the arrival doors, peering through the side windows to see if we can catch a glance. It's like waiting for family at Tullamarine or Heathrow.

The doors part. A figure walks through, tired and heavy shouldered, but smiling, smiling, smiling. The final member of our Ibiza crew has arrived.

It's Heidi!!!

Photos: http://www.flightline.co.uk/, http://thebosh.com/, http://ibiza.unlike.net

go see three dee

2010-08-10T11:31:00.002+01:00

richard price to pen new series with new name

2010-08-06T13:16:00.004+01:00

Richard Price, author of Clockers and Lush Life, will be writing a new crime series under a new name - Jay Morris. Not entirely sure the reason for the name change, but if it means Mr Price will be producing more books, more regularly, I'm all for it.

The books will be pure crime as opposed to the "literary novels with a crime theme" that he has been writing thus far. I've only read Clockers and my opinion is that it is a pure crime novel, and a very good one at that, but I'm not interested in debating about that. What I am interested in is to see how the Jay Morris books turn out. Hopefully not too much of a departure from the Richard Price novels.

Richard Price became one of my favourite authors (see right) and I must admit, that was purely off the back of him working on The Wire. For an author to become one of my favourites, I need to be impressed by more than just one novel. In Richard Price's case, that rule went out the window. I dubbed him a favourite after reading not one novel or two, but none. Yes, he became a favourite before I read anything he had written. Stupid, yeah? But his work on The Wire and his association with George Pelecanos and David Simon pretty much sold me. Then I read Clockers and was proven right. By a long stretch. Richard Price is gold.

Read about the new pen name here - Google news.

Information obtained via Sarah Weinman.

harrogate wrap up

2010-08-03T14:36:00.003+01:00

Click the link to hear Mark Lawson report on this year's Theakston's Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival from Harrogate.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00t6s8y

I attended the festival again this year and had a great time. Once again, I'm encouraged to keep going with my novel and get it finished. Harrogate is great for that - inspiration for writing and for reading! And the socialising ain't half bad either!!

must see viewing

2010-08-03T13:30:00.004+01:00

EIVISSA - food, glorious food - day 4

2010-07-20T07:29:00.017+01:00

More often than not, talk turns to food. Conversations vary, situations differ, but ultimately, we all end up talking about food. And eating it.

Getting up in the morning is becoming less of a delayed task. It seems that the Es Paradis effects are starting to wear off, although I do have the beginnings of a cold, its manifestation easily tracked back to a night dancing in water followed by a mad sprint in the early morning freeze. Sitting on the sofa, looking out past the swimming pool to the ocean below, I sniff and feel a tickle at the back of my throat, a bad sign of things to come. Kathy is in the kitchen, firing up the state of the art, high definition oven. Minutes later she serves up smoked salmon on a bed of fluffy scrambled eggs. Hits the spot.

The sun shining outside and the overall good vibe encourages activity. Kathy and I put on our optimistically packed running shoes and gear and head out for a trot around St Vincente. It's late morning and the sun beats down on the tarmac, the heat bouncing back into our faces, as we run. It's a strenuous exercise session along winding roads and rising hills, avoiding cars and cyclists. It's all a bit much for me and I do a lot of walking, Kathy running back and forth around me with the ease and determination of a marathon runner. We take a side street up to a church on a nearby rise, pass through its car park and back down the hill again, peeking into a French style cafe on the way, ascertaining its adequacy for dinner. French food in Spain? Next.

I fall in a heap back at the villa, exhausted. Tam walks into the kitchen, towel draped around her, swimming gear on. She has just completed numerous laps of the shoreline and looks like she hasn't broken a sweat. The thought of swimming in the ocean makes me feel even more exhausted. Harry has had a nice sleep in and is now playing with toys, scampering around the floor, listening to songs and readings, working out how to operate the Sky box. His frenetic pace and thirst for activity exhausts me further. Paul and Christy announce a trip to the shops to stock up on food, Tam and Kathy agreeing to help out. I raise my hand in surrender and end up sleeping on the sofa. When they return, bearing fruits and every other type of food you can think of, as well as copious amounts of vino, Kathy heads into the kitchen again and invents a magical lunch - lettuce wraps with ham and cheese and veggies and dressing. We step out into the sunshine and relax on the chairs and sunbeds, soaking up the good times, eating the lush food.

It's about time we thought about what we are going to have for dinner. There are a few restaurants down on the beach but we did that last night. Tam spotted a pretty cool restaurant stroke bar at the far end of the beach - one of the many fine establishments recommended in our Villa Guide, graciously left by the owners. But the weather, the atmosphere and this rocking pad are all conducive to staying home and cooking up our own kick arse dinner. There's plenty of food in the fridge and pantry, so we are all set. It's barbeque time!! A few hours before sundown, Paul and I go to work on the barbeque (doing the man's job), cooking fish, an array of sausages (including some lush chorizo that literally sweat fatty goodness) and other traditional fare. The barbie works well and the ladies have created some amazing salads that go well with the cooked meats. Add to that homemade sangria and numerous bottles of wine and we are sorted.

The bellys are full and the sun has gone down. There is a cool breeze and the only sounds are those of the ocean. It is peaceful and lovely. Kath and I take a late night walk on St Vincente's beach, romantic under the star studded sky and the white moon. There is hardly anyone around, most of the tourists have yet to arrive. We are alone. We lay down next to each other on the beach and look around, to our left, to our right - the moment is perfect and we are in a daring mood. We know we shouldn't, but what the hell, you only live once. I whisper in Kathy's ear and we get down to it, wrapping our lips around a luscious serving of ice cream purchased from the late night shop. The ice cream hits the spot; the midnight weather perfect for it. We can't believe we have the energy but we go again, this time leaning towards the chocolate covered variety. After that, we decide it's time to return to the villa, so we take it slowly up the hill, stomachs full, satisfied smiles on our faces.

Upon returning to the villa, we find everyone else has retired to their quarters for sleep; it is close to one o'clock. But the night isn't over yet for us. The pièce de résistance: we take a seat on the upstairs terrace, sit back, look up at the clear night sky, listen to the sound of the waves, and sip on Baileys and ice. It goes to show, it's not always about the food.

Photo from tasting menu.com

EIVISSA - the new arrivals - day 3

2010-06-30T07:31:00.024+01:00

The sound of the waves pummelling the beach of Cala San Vincente beckon me slowly from sleep, drifting up out of comforting dreams. The steady rhythm of the waves is intoxicating, soothing, and gently guides me back to the land of slumber.

I sit up in bed with a start. The light peeking out from the edges of the bedroom curtains is bright. I fumble for my watch, blinking rapidly to clear my vision. My watch reads 10 a.m., but I remember it is still set on GMT, having forgotten to set it forward earlier in the year. So it's 11 a.m. No, it's not. We are in Ibiza, Spain - one hour time difference - which means: It's midday!

Christ, where were they?! Where were The New Arrivals?!!

No idea of their flight times, no idea. Kathy rolls over, still deep in sleep. The realisation dawns like the day did six hours ago: It's all up to me.

I stumble out of bed, make my way across the unfamiliar landscape, banging knee on this, shins on that. I spot the green light. Kathy's phone has no missed calls. Okay, okay, everything is fine, they haven't landed yet. There's plenty of time. Dropping back onto the bed, eyes heavy again, images from last night blurring at the beginnings of a dream, the sound of the waves crashing, crashing, crashing . . .

No! I have to stay awake. The New Arrivals will be landing at the airport soon - they might need my help. They might phone asking where the car rental desk is at the airport. They might phone about the best route across the island. They might call about finding their way to Cala San Vincente. They would definitely call about finding their way to Cala San Vincente. Those winding roads, the turn offs, the Nascar section. Christ, they might even be stuck with a manual car. They definitely would be stuck with a manual car. The One Finger Man was still out there, driving around the island, rocking his head back, laughing.

I get up quickly, grab Kathy's phone and head downstairs. I lay out the map of the island on the table, ready to guide them from the airport to the villa, shaking my head clear. When they call, lost somewhere on the island, needing a guiding hand to direct them to safety, I needed to be alert and on the ball.

"Helllooooooo."

Who was that?! It was coming from outside. Someone at the front gate? It couldn't be The New Arrivals, no way. They were on the hard shoulder of the C-731, realising they should be on the C-733, just about to call me to ask how to find their way across the intricate roadways of Ibiza. Calling me for my navigational expertise. No, the person at the front gate is an interloper.

Taking a deep breath, I venture out onto the patio, the sun a sharp glare, glinting off the pool. There is movement around the side of the villa; the sound of the front gate falling back into place. My heart is racing. My throat is parched. I need water. A brief flashback to last night makes me think again. I squint. I need my sunglasses. Another flashback. Damn.

"Is anyone there?" someone calls.

It's now or never! This interloper needs to be confronted with confidence. Maybe it is a drug crazed maniac. Maybe it is a serial killer. Maybe it's the black cat that we have been warned about.

"Hello? Is anyone home?"

No, probably not the cat.

I turn the front corner of the villa, body ready for battle, mind ready for anything. Paul and Christy are standing at the other end of the villa, peering through the laundry door. Their heads turn and they spot me. We're all smiles and laughter. Harry is in Christy's arms giggling and wriggling. Paul and Christy - The New Arrivals have made it! I'm too proud to boast about my contribution to that fact - without me, alert and on the ball, their holiday would've been ruined, wandering the villa grounds searching the front door that they would never find - they were looking through the laundry door for heaven's sake!! I'd saved their holiday. What a champ.

I clear my throat.

"Any problems getting here?"

"Not at all."

"Pretty tough place to find though, isn't it? You know with the winding roads, the turnoffs, the Nascar section."

"Not really. Straight forward actually."

"Yeah? Straight forward. Hmm. Driving an automatic I suppose?"

"No. A manual."

"Well, okay. Let me take you into the villa. Through the front door. It's around here."

Paul and Christy walk into the villa and are immediately blown away - the view, the interior, the sounds, the smells. They love it! Kathy and Tam emerge from their respective corners and we all bask in our greatness - smug and content in our holiday villa.

Paul and Christy haven't met Tam before, so introductions are made. No uncomfortable silences here. All good stuff. In fact, by the end of the night, all five of us would be enjoying each other's company over red wine and paella at a restaurant on the beach just down the road - toasting to a great summer holiday in Ibiza.

To kill the time before that, we sit back and relax - soaking up the glorious view, soothed by the sound of the ocean on sand, loving it sick, but this time, loving it sick times five.

Actually, make that six: Harry is loving it too, exploring every corner of his new pad, taking everything in. You could see in his eyes that he is cataloguing everything, clocking this, registering that - the white walls, the sliding doors, the three steps leading into the lounge room. Oh, those steps - plenty of good times ahead there I can tell you. Not only that, he has a new crew - Mum and Dad of course - blood. The tall git who keeps going on about maps and front doors. The two beautiful girls who absolutely adore him and melt like butter with just the slightest cheeky smile. Everything is perfect. The crew. The shiny pool. The deck chairs. The remote control for the television. His toys. Yeah, he thinks as he falls onto his bottom on the floor - I'm one cool eighteen month old!

He slaps his hands on his knees: Come on, Mum! Come on, Dad! Warm up your singing voices - it's party time! Ibiza style!

EIVISSA - agua, agua, everywhere - day 2

2010-06-14T07:30:00.014+01:00

Wake up to the sound of crashing waves - wake up in heaven. Blinds drawn against the light in an effort to catch some sleep; blinds open up to a view that takes the breath away.

Cala San Vincente - our home for the next ten days. A small secluded beach, unrestricted panoramic views, a porn star villa.

We walk around the interior of the villa, eyes wide, smiles wide, shaking our heads in disbelief, all the while the sea and the sky in our peripheral, the sound of the waves in the background. Heaven in Spain. Villa is well equipped, well set out. Kath and I take the top floor bedroom with the communal terrace; downstairs double bedroom will go to Paul and Christy (and little Harry); outside apartment will go to Tam and Heidi. Room for a lot more if need be, with spare mattresses, sofas and floor area. Large kitchen with rock star cooker and oven, kick ass fridge and enough cutlery and plates and glasses to cater for thirty. Thumping sound system in front room, cute ass pool overlooking view, complimentary Cava and Rose in the fridge - sorted. Retirement pad will look something like this.

Spend a good thirty minutes lounging on the front patio, looking up at the cloudless sky, listening to the waves, saying nothing. But need to move, things to do.

Take deep breath and head down to the car. The manual. Kath settles in, I grab the map - work out our way to the airport. Trip goes pretty well until the airport - dispute over where to park car - still thinking we could do a swap for an auto. No chance though - the only auto in the fleet is out on the road already, some chap fat-arming it around the coast, driving the car with one finger on the wheel, loving himself. We curse the One Finger Man. We curse the Car Rental. We curse the Gear Stick. But then Tam walks out of Departures and we hug and smile and remember where we are: Eivissa - sun, sand, party.

Tam is a bit wrecked, not unlike ourselves. Her trip started at 3 a.m. in Les Masseries, France and involved trains, planes and automobiles in order to arrive on our island. Already calling it "our" island - already loving it sick. Return to the palace via missed turnoffs and windscreen wiper turns and an off piste supermarket man who stocks us up with wine, bourbon, Malibu, wine, baileys, wine and food. Bottled water also on the list - tap water in villa is not too shabby but leaves a bit of an unsettled feeling in the guts - advisory note: avoid.

Tam's jaw drops at the villa and the view; secures herself down in the apartment for a well earned kip. Not too long after, all of us reasonably well rested, preparations for tonight begin. Preparations involve drinking and dancing and getting suitably dressed. Suitably dressed involves wearing bathers and bikinis under our party gear and packing beach towels.

We're off to Es Paradis!!!

Kath sacrifices herself again and gets in behind the wheel. We're all looking cool as piss - I've got a black hat on and I'm wearing sunglasses - it's just gone midnight. Across the island we go - heading to San Antoni - home to the binge drinkers and ugg boot wearers of the world. Little traffic and some excellent driving and we arrive without incident. Park a little down the way in a vacant lot doubling as a car park. Psych ourselves up. Wet ourselves with excitement at the sight of the illuminated pyramid that is Es Paradis. It's time to party at the opening party of the infamous agua party. Agua, agua, everywhere - but not yet.

Es Paradis nightclub is pretty big - a couple of different levels, dance floors here and there, and in the middle, a Roman bath type scenario with pillars and steps and a small elevated stage where resident hot bod dancers writhe and wriggle to the House tunes. It's reasonably quiet at this stage of the night (morning?) but people are filing in. We head to the bar and spend 30 Euro on a bottle of wine - yeah, pretty pricey, but to be expected. We also get on the tap water to keep us hydrated - risking severe vomiting, but not paying for bottled water - priorities. We take up a possie on the top step of the Roman bath amongst big fluffy pillows and start to boogie.

Hours and hours of dancing fly by - we are loving ourselves - enjoying the music, marvelling at the dancers, blinking not once but twice at the price of a can of Red Bull. Kathy hands out Chuppa Chups like a clandestine dealer of the Next Big Thing and people's heads turn. The Chuppa Chups give us a kick of sugar; the one can of Red Bull shared amongst three does the same, but kicks the wallet too, leaving it screaming in pain (Oh, and for the record: nine euro).

Four fifteen a.m. - Es Paradis is rocking, the columns surrounding the centre of the Roman bath dance floor are shaking, the music is pounding, we three are listing, struggling, but still dancing. I enquire at the bar and am told that things kick off at 5. I groan. I tell the others. We groan. But we keep at it, as the air of anticipation in the crowd is tangible.

Five rocks on by - no movement from anyone except the revellers - bumping and grinding. We wonder when we should shed our party clothes; where we should put them, but we make no move just in case we miss something. The pillows have been removed from the steps in preparation. Anticipation builds. Five thirty - there's movement, the suspended stage retracts up into the ceiling, the hired dancers done for the night. The crowd starts to go wild. Kath, Tam and I take a couple of extra steps down, closer to the main dance floor. People are looking up at the heavens, waiting, dancing, waiting.

"I'm singing in the rain; just singing in the rain. What a glorious feeling, I'm happy again."

The crowd cheers. Gene Kelly keeps singing. People below us start to look down, not up. Water is filling the dance floor from hidden pipes. The party animals below us start splashing and laughing like children. Gene cranks it up. We teeter on the edge of the steps, wanting to get involved. Don't have to wait long - large, long loops of water spurt out from behind us, jets built into the steps, shooting out litres and litres of water. Gene Kelly gives way to deep bass. The dance floor fills up with more party animals and more water. One wrong step and you get a jet stream of water up your shirt or dress. Water sprays down from above. Everyone is getting drenched, including us. No time to change - clothes get completely wet, bathers and bikinis dry underneath.

Water keeps filling up for twenty minutes, up to people's waists. Bodies fly forward into the water; cheeky ones splash water back up at those on the steps. One body tips into Kath, I catch her and go down. Get slightly wet, but not too bad. We decide it's time to retreat a few steps. Tam avoids another falling body. Kath and I stand just outside the Roman bath area - start to shiver. Everyone not involved watch from the various raised floors and dance floors. A spectacle; an amazing spectacle.

We are starting to get cold now, half an hour since the taps were turned on. A decision is reached between the three of us: time to go. Six a.m. and we are wet and tired but thrilled and excited. But shivering. We leave for the cloakroom to pick up our bags - stupidly didn't leave a towel or a spare set of clothes in the bag. All of it is still in the parked car - about three hundred metres up the road - outside. It's cold in the foyer, near the cloakroom - outside, its 6 a.m. and sunrise - and freezing!!!

We make a dash for it, running down the footpath towards the car, water dripping from us, teeth chattering. The rising sun is still behind the hills and mountains but the sky looks lovely - blue and orange. I reach for my sunglasses - not there - lost down the bottom of Es Paradis in murky, dirty water - the first casualty of Eivissa.

The car sits amongst the early morning shadows, waiting for us with its warm interior. We dry ourselves off, some of us change in the carpark into dry clothes, some of us lay down towels on the seats, and we all jump in. Heater on full. Stick into gear. Dust billowing as Kath takes us out of the carpark and out of San Antoni. We wave goodbye to Es Paradis, teeth still chattering, and the light on the tip of the pyramid winks back.

The way back home is relatively quiet as we compose ourselves, the sunrise and early morning drive something to savour. The experience we've just had is too - the build up, the waiting, the expensive Red Bull - it was all worth it for that 30 minutes of pure excitement and wet jocks. It was a great night that gave way to a brilliant morning and finishes with a hot shower and a well earned sleep and dreams of Gene Kelly and floating sunglasses.

Check out photos of opening parties at http://www.esparadis.com/

powderfinger farewell

2010-06-06T20:24:00.003+01:00

A quick flight from Ibiza to Brixton Academy: Friday night was Powderfinger's second last ever London gig, part of their farewell Sunsets tour. The best selling Aussie band called it quits after 20 years in the industry (and most of that at the top of the local charts); the Sunsets tour being one final treat for their fans.

It was a great night in a very hot and muggy Brixton Academy, but the fans didn't care - the place was packed and everyone knew the words, singing so loud that sometimes it was hard to hear Bernard Fanning's voice. All the hits were played, climaxing with "Passenger", "My Happiness" and "My Kinda Scene" in the final encore.

My memories of Powderfinger are many - from my first experience via a cover band in Melbourne (playing a version of "The Day You Come" that struggled to live up to the original), to driving out to South Yarra to get a copy of their first album, to playing "My Happiness" endlessly when I was pining to return to London in mid-2000, to a very special concert at Shepherd's Bush Empire with Kathy, to the numerous concerts that followed during my time in London, to last night, standing with Kathy, Cathy and Ben, shivers down the spine, as the boys said their final goodbyes.

Even my blog has been influenced by the band, named after one of their songs, "Up and Down and Back Again", except, this time, they won't be back again. So we'll just have to hang on to the memories and play their music loud on hot summer nights, while nursing a cold beer, chatting with mates, and waiting for the chops to cook on the barbie.

Powderfinger Rockin' Rocks!!

EIVISSA - a retrospective diary - day 1

2010-06-04T18:16:00.007+01:00

Leaving work for a long holiday is always madness, but thankfully, this time round, it aint. Already packed last night - overpacked as usual - and seems like the to do list for work is under control - well, enough for me to make a hasty exit, waving goodbye to the poor folk still slaving away at their computers. Oh well, can't be helped - there's a party island waiting in southern Spain and someone has to do it!

Luton airport is a tit to get to, takes forever on the train, and then that little pissy bus from the station is so annoying - too excited for all this fluffing about. More fluffing about ensues though - after checking in, passport control, popcorn from Pret, the departures board tries to sneak past the fact that the flight is now delayed by 90 minutes. Ten thirty departure. I do the quick maths for our arrival in Ibiza and come up on the wrong side of midnight.

Flight is fine though, once we get on board, nothing too bumpy, but it's a long un - 2 1/2 hours. Kath got the exit seats using her Speedy Boarding privileges and I'm happy for that. Original plans of going out tonight in Eivissa Town have been scuppered, but not to worry - plenty of good times ahead.

Mona, the agent who looks after the villa we are staying at, is waiting for us at Ibiza airport to lead us to our abode. It's 1 am but she is still very cheerful. Car rental chick less so, obviously well past her siesta. We have our own issues though - prospect of driving on wrong side of the road in the middle of the night is a bit daunting, but I'm up for it - car's an automatic, ordered online, so no problems there.

Jump in the driver's seat of the hire car and wonder what the hell is that thing sticking out between the seats. Ah. It's the gear stick. Manual; not automatic. Great. Last time I drove a stick was in Scotland, 2004. Kath's last time was in Norway last NY, drove in snow and sleet and slippery roads. Kath - you're up.

We follow Mona and her husband along a speedy freeway that cuts through the lower part of the island, then onto smaller roads, then into the hills, weaving in and out of dense forest. Traffic is minimal which helps; driving on the right (wrong) side of the road in a manual doesn't. Kath does very well. I try and take note of the lefts and rights that we negotiate so I can navigate our way out tomorrow, but lose track when we hit the Nascar section of the island - chicanes, hard rights, easy lefts - and the thick darkness around us makes spotting landmarks for reference purposes impossible.

A rev up a steep incline disguising itself as a driveway and we arrive at the villa - a three bedroom house set into the side of a hill overlooking Cala San Vincente - a nice little beach with only a few high rise hotels to spoil the view. A map found in the hire car tells us we are at the furthest north east point of the island.

Mona shows us the ins and outs of our Spanish Palace; throws in a baguette, some ham and cheese for tomorrow's breakfast at the crescendo. We wave her goodbye, adios, and gracias and take stock. The place is empty at the moment, with the other inhabitants arriving over the next few days, so before bed, we enjoy the exclusivity of the pad, sitting in cane chairs on the outside terrace, sipping hot drinks and staring out into the star filled sky, thinking - we've finally made it!!!

Bed time: 3 am.

update on the world of doing not much

2010-03-31T14:50:00.004+01:00

I'm writing this update in between tasks at work, which is quite fitting given the last seven months of my life. In fact, if I write this blog entry at the same words-written-in-novel to hours-spent-on-day-job ratio, I should finish it in about three weeks time.

Yes, I've been busy at work and I've been neglecting the book. Work pays better, but sucks out both time and creative juices by the bucket load. The book gets a look in on very rare occasions, like a parent in an old folks home. As with the neglected parents, guilt builds up every moment I'm not attending to the book's needs and wants. But the job that pays my salary and allows me to enjoy cereal for dinner when I get home from work at ten at night has to take precedence. Here endeth the excuse.

"So does that mean the novel isn't finished yet?" I hear you ask in a frustrated tone and with a clenched fist. Well, yer, it ain't finished. Not far off, but still plenty to do. Currently working through the second draft which requires a full rewrite of the first 5 chapters - after that, things should move more quickly. My aim for publication by 2015 is still on track.

P.S. My parents are not in an old folks home; in fact, they are more likely to be in a campervan, travelling across the Aussie outback!

just finished reading . . .

2010-03-29T12:55:00.007+01:00

This is the first Dan Fesperman novel I have read and the verdict is: I like his work! The Amateur Spy is a great read set predominantly in Jordan, not the safest place for an American ex-aid worker who has been blackmailed to dig around an old friend's fund raising business in search for possible terrorist connections.

Mr Fesperman weaves an intricate tale taking the reader to many interesting places including Ramadan in Jordan, violence in the Bekaa Valley, shady dealings in Jerusalem, and a politician's demise in Washington D.C.

I definitely enjoyed the read, but I also think Dan has better novels in him, which is an exciting prospect - and with novels such as The Prisoner of Guantánamo, The Warlord's Son and his new one, The Arms Maker of Berlin, I am looking forward to the prospect of sitting down to another Dan Fesperman modern thriller sometime soon.

three more to the pile

2010-03-23T19:35:00.009Z

Courtesy of a Waterstones Gift Voucher and a handy bit of internet shopping, the following books landed at my front door last night:

The TBR pile is growing and growing - good for two years worth of reading now - at least!

game for Gaiman

2010-03-22T13:16:00.011Z

I've been quite keen to experience anything - comics, books, movies - that has materialised out of the mind of Neil Gaiman. So far, I have only managed a ten minute short on Sky 1 about statues which he directed. I missed Coraline and haven't managed to delve into the back issues of Sandman. I was reading his blog for sometime but that also lasped. It looked like as long as I didn't make a concerted effort, the world of Neil Gaiman would forever elude me.

Then, this morning, a work colleague, keen to offload as many of his books as possible before moving his life from Edinburgh to London, gave me these three to read:

I am delighted and can not wait! Now, I just need to find a place for them in the pecking order of the other 40 books in my to be read pile. Not an easy task at all!

P.S. Yes, I'm avoiding the obvious topics of my writing and absence from this blog - let's just say they have both taken a back seat to less exciting but more profitable ventures (i.e. the day job).

just finished reading . . .

2009-10-06T13:36:00.004+01:00

Third in John Connolly's excellent Charlie Parker series: long buried bones of a religious cult; shadowy figures waiting in the shadows; arachnids biting exposed skin; evil men and the evil things they do.

Don't count on a restful sleep with this one.

51 / 100

2009-10-06T13:32:00.002+01:00

- How bad is it?

- Bad enough that you don't want to see.

50 / 100

2009-10-01T13:36:00.001+01:00

Get your fokkin' tentacle out of my face!

cheese that resonates

2009-09-30T17:32:00.004+01:00

I recieved an email today, one of those emails I hate. You know the ones: sent by a well meaning person, filled with cute cuddly cats doing kwazy things or heart warming phrases about positive thinking, loving one another, etc, etc. They usually end with a plea to forward the email on, to spread the uplifting vibes, and to feel good about yourself for doing so.

These emails make me wince and/or gag. They are supposed to be uplifting but, to me, they reek like Saint Albray if not sealed in a plastic container. They clog up your inbox with happy, smiley dribble, tinged with a sense of falsity. Punching the delete button is my usual response.

Not today. This one made me pause. This one didn't make me wince or gag. This one didn't smell.

This one makes me think about all those mornings, in recent times, when the alarm has gone off and I've ignored it, turning back over for more sleep, more dreaming. Dreaming instead of getting up and putting in an hour's work chasing those dreams.

This one I'll remember.

49 / 100

2009-09-29T13:24:00.002+01:00

Wait for the cream...

dexter deliciously disturbing

2009-09-23T13:17:00.003+01:00

Dark humour, multi-faceted characters, edge of the seat storylines, murder, and blood, blood, blood.

Dexter (Season 1) is a delight for fans of crime shows that don't pull punches, that don't dumb down plot lines, that offer up something new and original. It's not for the faint-hearted, it's not for those who yearn for completeness, it's not politically correct - but it's dark and disturbing, brash and bold, cool and complicated, tongue in cheek - and most of it's down to our main man, Dexter.

Michael C. Hall brings forth a complicated and original character - a killer of serial killers - a murderer with a code, who battles with living a 'normal' life - a life of relationships, co-worker conflict, issues with family, and buckets and buckets of blood.

Nothing sums up the show better than the final scenes - betrayal, murder, tears, confetti, streamers and large placards: "We love you Dexter!"

Highly recommended. Season 2 box set on order.

just finished reading . . .

2009-09-17T13:14:00.002+01:00

A well written mystery set in Scotland surrounding the reunion of old RAF buddies and the emergence of a sinister secret. A good enough read, albeit one that doesn't live up to its potential, considering the subject matter. Slightly better than run-of-the-mill.

the thing from another blog

2009-09-16T13:37:00.001+01:00

First goddamn week of winter.

reading crime

2009-09-14T13:14:00.004+01:00

Last Saturday, I travelled to Reading for the 2nd Reading Festival of Crime Writing held at the Town Hall. It was a very entertaining day (the actual festival runs from Friday to Sunday) and I attended three funfilled events:

Murder in Mind - panel event about the world of psychological crime fiction with Stephen Booth, Jane Hill and a number of others, including a fave of mind, R.J.Ellory. As always, he was a very interesting panel member with great insight and analysis of the topic, and talk of upcoming books and screenplays was food for his eager readers. I missed a chance to chat with Roger at Harrogate, so I made sure I caught him this time, albeit briefly on his way to his book signing and my way to:
John Harvey - solo event where John read from short stories, poems and his latest novel, and fielded questions from the audience in an entertaining and informative manner. Very enjoyable.
Mark Billingham and Chris Brookmyre - these two fantastic (and hilarious) authors rounded off the day with a session that ran for over an hour and included stand up, readings from their latest books (and in Mark's case, a sneak peek at his next book) and Q&A, including an unusual question first up about why Mark's beard keeps disappearing("It's called shaving!").

The Reading festival is a different beast to the Harrogate behemoth, but just as entertaining. It's smaller in scale with about a quarter of the amount of attendees, but this creates an intimate atmosphere, allowing for more questions and, in some cases such as the John Harvey event, a more free-flowing structure. The only downside I'd comment on is the lack of time between events, meaning book signings were not an option if you had back to backs to attend.

It's not completely different to Harrogate though, with the key similarities being the attendance of BTZ regulars (Alison, Sarah, Carol, Jez) and a quiet beer afterwards with our favourite authors.

Another festival for the diary!

just finished reading . . . quickly

2009-09-08T13:26:00.006+01:00

This is Ian Rankin's effort for the Quick Reads line of books - novellas aimed at sparking people's desire to read books again.

This is an entertaining yarn in true Rankin style (sans Rebus) and is well suited to the shorter format (although, the ending seems a little incomplete). I expected something a little different from Rankin though, but maybe, if he publishes another shorty, he might venture out into other genres / topics, just to challenge himself a bit.

Check out the Quick Reads - there's something for everyone!!

48 / 100

2009-09-06T14:30:00.002+01:00

French bang bang.

just finished reading . . .

2009-09-05T16:05:00.007+01:00

You know you've enjoyed a book when you finish that last page, slap the front cover with an open palm and hold it aloft. An inspirational story about faith and belief, finding out who you are, and striving for goals that seem out of your reach. A must read and perfect for any book club, as I discovered a year ago when I bought the book in Baltimore.

the horror

2009-09-03T13:34:00.004+01:00

I previously announced I was "Back". Back to working on my novel after three weeks of picking up the pieces of my shattered confidence. Back in the swing of things.

That's not entirely true, not yet anyway. The last two days I have looked at my desk or thought about writing and felt a twinge of deep rooted horror. And stepped away.

The source: a disastrous two hours of writing that occurred about two weeks ago, during my "Down" period. For two hours, I worked on my synopsis, encouraged by a second chance received from the agent who selected me in the Dragons' Pen at Harrogate Festival. She had critiqued my first attempt as part of the event, concluding that my work wasn't up to scratch, but kindly allowed me to submit a second effort.

Two hours, I sat there. Two hours working on my synopsis. Two hours and going no where.

My problem: I was stuck on the opening sentence. Everything I tried didn't work for various reasons: too vague; too wordy; inaccurate; or just plain rubbish. There was no happy ending either. After the two hours of pulling my hair out writing sentences and deleting them just as quickly, I gave up. And haven't been back since.

The horror of that late afternoon two weeks ago has stuck with me, making it difficult to return to my study and the blank page.

It's time to take my own advice, which is as follows:

In these circumstances, you just have to accept that you're in a bad place with your writing. Accept it and get on with it. The only way out is to write your way out. Keep tapping away, keep deleting the rubbish, and keep trying to get it right. There's no other way.

So tonight, without preamble or forethought, I am booting up the old Dell and starting my journey Back on that rollercoaster ride to publication.

47 / 100

2009-09-02T13:52:00.002+01:00

Moon Rock (well).

not far canard

2009-09-01T13:21:00.003+01:00

Just back from five glorious days in the French countryside based in a little town where my friends Tam and Franck live, near Saint Gery. They were the perfect hosts, serving up unbelievable regional meals on the Aussie barbeque, taking us on enjoyable activities such as kayaking on The Lot, and creating a truly relaxing experience - sun, sleep, eating and drinking. They made it super easy to enjoy the holiday - thanks guys!

As well as the memories, I brought back three packages of the lush Saint Albray cheese, a jar of Maistres Occitans foie gras de canard, and a big tin of duck. A 1.3kg tin of duck.

just finished reading . . .

2009-08-26T17:57:00.005+01:00

My first Japanese crime novel and it wasn't too bad, although some sections of the novel dragged. More comments and discussion over at the BTZ Book Club here. Beware of Spoilers though.

Up and Down and Back Again

2009-08-25T11:27:00.003+01:00

UP : I experienced an almighty high during the Theakston's Crime Writing Festival last month. It wasn't just the usual buzz from meeting my favourite authors, catching up with old and new friends, or revelling in the excitement that permeates Harrogate each year.

No, this high came from a successful Dragons' Pen experience. I stood up in front of 40 other students, a dozen authors and of course, the Dragons (two agents, one publisher and an editor) and pitched my novel. It went well, with both agents and the publisher putting their hand up for more. I was first to pitch and the only one to bag interest from both agents - result. The rest of the festival, I floated a foot off the ground, smiling from ear to ear.

DOWN: The following Monday, I fine tuned my synopsis and first chapter, then, holding my breath, I sent it off to my chosen agent and the publisher.

A week later, I received comments. I would be lying if I didn't say I expected glowing praise and a three book deal. Honestly, I think most people would. No one has read my novel yet (it's not complete) but I think its good and the pitch went well, so I was quite positive. Until someone tells you differently, you always think you are a star performer.

The comments that came back were constructive but mainly of the "needs improvement" variety. The critiques were professional and forthright (which I appreciate) but they did cut deep to the bone. There weren't too many positive statements that I could hang my hat on.

There is a horrible feeling when someone reads your book for the first time and doesn't like it or thinks it doesn't work. You shiver; you feel sick. It's worse when you haven't even finished. Output dries up; inspiration goes walkabout. As much as you believe you are the star performer, part of you also thinks your work is a steaming pile of crap. If the latter is reinforced, even subtly, the world comes crashing down. To progress, you need to find something to pull you up.

BACK AGAIN: I've been given a second chance, another go. The agent will look at a second attempt at the synopsis, as long as it is my best work. This brings with it even more anxiety -what if the second attempt is no better? Could I bounce back from that? But what pushes all of that down is the fact that I have been given a great opportunity to show what I can do and a chance to impress.

And that is enough to pull me back to the computer and start writing again . . .

The Corner at The Renoir

2009-06-17T18:59:00.003+01:00

At the start of June, I attended a special screening of the HBO series, The Corner, at the Renoir Cinema, part of the Curzon chain. The event was a much anticipated follow up to last year's Wire Weekender (a full screening of the fifth and final season of that wonderful TV show), which was also presented by Canongate.

The Corner TV series is based on David Simon and Edward Burns amazing book, The Corner: A Year In An Inner-city Neighbourhood and was written and produced by them. These two, as you may know, went onto achieve greatness with their next creation, the aforementioned HBO series, The Wire.

Initially, I was disappointed that only one episode of The Corner was to be shown at The Renoir event; a major scaling down of the format as compared to the Wire Weekender. However, once the episode finished over an hour later, I didn't hold onto my grudges; all I wanted to do was see more. It was a great first episode (of three) and I will be purchasing the DVD box set in due course to enjoy the rest.

The TV series lacks the depth of the book, but Simon and Burns manage to elicit an impact almost equal to the source material; watching the lives of these West Baltimore dwellers, junkies and dealers is harrowing and emotional.

The episode was followed by Q&A with David Simon, who had also brought along two real life characters from the world of The Corner and The Wire (but I won't reveal which ones). The discussions were interesting and entertaining, as Mr Simon always is, and I look forward to seeing him again in Harrogate. What's more exciting, for me, is that I still have Generation Kill to watch and Treme is on the horizon. Talk of a movie in its embryonic stage also sent the packed out Renoir Cinema into excited anticipation.

The event was a success: a thought provoking episode of quality television, followed by intelligent discussions with a talented writer. Not only that, I left the Renoir wanting more of what David Simon and Edward Burns have to offer.

The Aspiring Author Speaks!

2009-05-28T17:42:00.002+01:00

Just over a month ago, I received an email from Ann Chadwick, who has been commissioned to re-write the Theakstons Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival website. As you may know, the festival, previously called the Harrogate Crime Writing Festival, is the must attend event of the year. It's the case for me and many others in the crime writing industry, whether they be published authors, budding writers, agents, publishers or fans (or sometimes a combination of the above). This is an event not to be missed.

Ann's new content for the website includes interviews with established authors of the genre, but she was also interested in speaking with aspiring authors and my name had been put forward, sourced from my attendance at the Creative Thursday events at the last two festivals.

I was delighted and more than happy to answer Ann's questions about the dreams of being a full time writer, the benefits of writing classes such as Creative Thursday, and any tips I might have for other budding authors.

I happened to check the website out today (looks great BTW!) and found that my interview has been posted! Check it out HERE!! Very happy with the results and absolutely stoked that I was able to contribute, in some way, to this wonderful festival.

Check out the rest of the website too - Ann has done a stellar job. There are other interviews, including those with authors Mark Billingham, Val McDermid, Laura Wilson, Kevin Wignall and Simon Kernick, as well as fan file interviews with some of the fans that are regulars at the festival in Harrogate (many of whom are budding writers in their own right (and are BTZ members to boot!!)).

Thanks again to Ann Chadwick for the interview and allowing me to contribute to the website, and thanks to Erica Morris for suggesting me to Ann in the first place.

And, just to let you know, I will be attending the festival again this year, including Creative Thursday, so I hope to see you there!

"All Work And No Play . . ."

2009-05-20T21:47:00.003+01:00

I've come to the end my week as a quasi full time writer. Seven days of wall-to-wall 2nd draft shenanigans (with one day off in between to experience what it's like to step outdoors and feel the sun, wind and rain on my face).

All in all, it was a very successful experience. At times it was sublime, other times frustrating, but overall it was something I enjoyed. Yes, my dreams of being a full time writer have not been shattered by endless hours of sitting in front of a computer, not speaking with another living soul, and living off packets of Cheese Doritos.

However, there were a few items noted for improvement for my next foray into full time writing:

- A bigger and better computer. Not to hurt the feelings of my Dell laptop bought back in the heady days of 2004, but staring at a petty 17inch screen for too long ain't good for the old noggin. The Nurofen had to be cracked open a couple of times to erradicate severe mind cramp.

- A reduction in hours worked each day. Some may say 7.5 hours a day is a bit pissweak, but I found I had no time to do other things, like leaving the computer to experience that funny thing they call LIFE. There was a two day stretch there where I hadn't left the house; I found myself talking to bees outside my window and wearing tissue boxes on my feet.

- A comfy chair. Not necessarily a deluxe leather super comfy chair but something that doesn't have a wooden back or a seat that contours to the ass of someone who sat in it in 1979.

Other than that, it all went very well. Thirty nine hours of rewriting and reviewing, 20% of the way through the 2nd draft and, as can be seen from the Noise Reduction meter, nearly 20,000 words culled from the manuscript.

A long way to go but a very, very successful week - both in output and experience.

As celebration, on my last day, I ate a large Pizza Express American Hot pizza and garlic bread right before bed. I read an interview with Jack Nicholson about the making of The Shining from an issue of Empire and then hit the sack. That night, the pepperoni taking its toll on my digestive system, I dreamt that I had looked back on my week's worth of writing and found the manuscript consisted of only one sentence, repeated over and over:

"All work and no play, makes Jack a dull boy."

Reality was, I hadn't written anything that good.

The Full Time Writer

2009-05-12T20:51:00.004+01:00

The Full Time Writer: a long way off for me, but from tomorrow for six days, I will get a sense of what it feels like. In order to make significant inroads into my second draft, I've decided to take four days off work and hit it full time. My plan is to work seven and a half hours a day, the minimum amount of hours to do my day job. Yes, as the great writers say, you've got to treat it like a job, and that's what I plan to do.

Besides using the time off to catch up on getting this second draft done, the next six days will give me an opportunity to see what it's like to be doing this gig full time. I'll get a chance to find out whether I can sit in front of my computer and write for complete days, instead of the one or two hours I catch here and there. Good opportunity to experience the daily grind of the full time writer firsthand - definitely worth giving it a test run given it's a major goal in my life.

Of course, there will be established authors out there saying that being a full time writer isn't just about writing. And I agree - there's book tours, festivals, signings, radio and TV, blogs to update, fan emails to answer, editors, agents and publishers to meet, and all the other commitments a writer has these days. I recognise that I can't really experience those things yet - all that will be a separate challenge when the time comes, but at least I will get a chance to see if I enjoy or loathe the writing process on a full time basis. 'Cause if I don't like that part of it, the rest of it won't mean a thing.

This little exercise raises a few intriguing questions - what if after these next six days, I absolutely hate the full time writer malarkey? What if I yearn for my day job, sitting in the front of the computer, playing with spreadsheets and numbers? What if I can't take the pain? Will I give up?

Nah, probably not. But hey, it's a good excuse to post a series of blogs about the experience - and it's worth it just for the possibility that I'll stand up from my desk on Monday night and scream - I WANT TO DO MORE OF THIS!!!

The Reduction of the Steaming Pile of Words

2009-04-28T18:09:00.003+01:00

In a flurry of activity, the second draft began: powering through thepages; words culled left, right and centre; word count dropping fast.

Or not.

Since I completed the first draft to my novel, not a lot has happened. I managed to detail all my chapters on index cards, allowing me to see the whole picture and easily make changes here and there. I'm finding it very useful, but unfortunately, it's not a lot to show for almost a month's work.

Why the slow down in productivity, especially with late July fast approaching? Work. The full time paid variety. Yes, that old chestnut. Yesterday was the first day in a fortnight I've actually sat down at my computer. My day job has become my night job as well. Not ideal, but not the end of the world either. Things have quietened down now, so I will be taking a week off in mid-May to play catch up - a game I've mastered over the years.

The first task for Draft Numero Deux is to reduce that big steaming pile of words you see there on your right under "Noise Reduction." Two hundred and seventy words is just too much (you think?!). So a culling we shall go. Watch with intense concentration and wild glee as that figure reduces over the next month - bottoming out, hopefully, at 160,000 words.

If I can't get the word count down, I will instead release two books - Steaming Pile of Words - Part One and Steaming Pile of Words - Part Two. If it worked for Steven Soderbergh, it can work for . . . oh wait.

I Feel A Draft

2009-04-05T19:21:00.004+01:00

I announced it a few weeks ago on Facebook: I've finished the first draft of my book.

It was a great feeling, typing "The End" into my manuscript; a feeling of achievement and satisfaction. Two and a half years ago I began writing this behemoth of a novel; two and a half years of intermittent writing, frustration with mediocre volumes of output, and moments of brilliance and clarity. From a germ of an idea formed in the early morning hours to typing those two words: it has been a long journey.

It's never just been about proving to myself that I can do it though, my ambitions extend beyond that, but completing the first draft has always been a major goal, appearing insurmountable at times, but, deep down, always achievable.

And I've done it. And I'm happy with the result.

My goal is still to have a finished product (fit for submission to agencies) by the Harrogate Festival in late July; a deadline fast approaching. The achievement of completing the first draft is already a distant memory, but as I wade through the second draft, it's still a memory that energises me each day I sit down at my computer.

I'm not naive enough, though, to not know that completing the first draft is only the half of it: draft after draft, alteration after alteration, the dreaded first read by someone other than yourself, and the mountain to climb towards publication, constitutes the hard work ahead of me. Hard work ahead and the continuing rollercoaster ride of emotion that every writer goes through.

Ultimately, there will be a great feeling of satisfaction and jubilation when the final draft is done and sent off to my chosen agents, but it will never match the pure joy and feeling of accomplishment, devoid of the anxiety of failure or critique, that is felt when those two words are written for the first time.

Something to savour for a long time.

Sins Of The Novelist

2009-03-06T18:18:00.003Z

I can't remember where I have read this or who may have told me, but there are two sins that I've always believed should not be committed when writing the final chapters of a novel:

Introduce new characters.
Change narrative perspective.

The first one I believe is so as not to cheat the reader - for example: "I've been leading you along about Francis being the murderer; it was actually Johnny from down the road, a character who I haven't mentioned once before in my entire novel, but hell, he's as good as anyone to pin this confusing convoluted plot of a murder on and it fills those nasty plot holes I've managed to dig for myself."

It's a cop out and it's not fair. It's lazy, it's mean and it makes for a wholly unsatisfactory ending for the reader.

The second sin is less of a deal breaker, although it isn't necessarily good form and it stinks of poor writing and it is still kind of a cop out. You've written four fifths of the novel from Gary's perspective (third person, first person, whatever) and then you switch to Rodney's perspective in the last three chapters. Not only is it confusing for the reader, but it's also a bit disorientating and it messes with the flow. The readers have invested time with Gary, read about his thoughts and feelings, been there with him through the good and bad times, taken a journey with him. Now Rodney turns up, talking in your head, giving you his opinion. Who does this Rodney joker think he is, hijacking the narrative?

Grumpiness, followed by disconnection, followed by book in bin.

Hmmm, very sinful . . . .

Well, forgive me Father, for I have sinned. But hell, I think it works! I've committed the sins above but nowhere near the two-fingers-up-to-the-reader atrocities of the examples above. I definitely haven't cheated the reader. I still think the novel flows. But hey, time will tell.

And that time is fast approaching. As I type this, I only have four more scenes to write in the first draft of my novel. Exciting times and about time too. Saturday will be dedicated to those four scenes; Saturday night will be dedicated to celebrating.

I might just pop open some bubbly to celebrate or at least have one or two beers at the pub. I might let the hair down, go a bit wild. That's the exciting thing about sins, you never know which one you'll commit next. And there's loads of fun in the committing.

Victorian Bushfires

2009-02-11T08:33:00.003Z

My heart and support goes out to those who have lost those things that they hold dear - family, friends, homes, communities. My thanks goes out to the members of the CFA and any other brave souls that have risked their lives to help and aid others during this natural disaster.

With many fires still out of control throughout country Victoria, winds still blowing hard and temperatures set to rise again, the fight still goes on. My best wishes go out to all those affected.

The excellent website The Big Picture at Boston.com never fails to deliver beautiful photos of current events, always breathtaking - these are heartbreaking and devastating.

If you wish to donate to the Victoria Bushfire Appeal, please do so at the address below:

http://www.redcross.org.au/vic/services_emergencyservices_victorian-bushfires-appeal-2009.htm

Our thoughts are with you: Kinglake, Kinglake West, St Andrews, Humevale, Wandong, Strathewen, Callignee, Upper Callignee, Hazelwood, Jeeralang, Flowerdale, Hazeldene, Taggerty, Marysville, Arthurs Creek, Eaglehawk, Steels Creek, Mudgegonga, Koornalla, Yarra Glen, Narbethong, Clonbinane, Heathcote Junction.

Reality Gets In The Way

2009-02-01T11:59:00.001Z

Despite the ear screeching, teeth chattering, finger numbing cold, I went out on a research mission yesterday, a location visit. There are a number of places in London that feature in my novel and it was time to go out there and check the layout of the land.

A novel normally contains a number of locations: cities, suburbs, streets, establishments. Although keeping to the reality of the chosen location is not necessarily key (a certain degree of artistic licence is allowed and sometimes required), you can avoid glaring mistakes by embarking on a field trip.

This field trip can be performed before (advised) or after (lazy) writing about the location. My novel is set in London, so obviously, as I live there, I have a fair degree of knowledge about the area, allowing me to write reasonably freely about it, especially in my first draft. However, there are certain areas, boroughs, tube stops, used throughout the book that I do not frequent and until yesterday, their detail has been guessed at. Sure, not bothering to check the locations before commencing the novel is a bit lazy, but sometimes its better to keep writing then to wait until you can find time to visit a location to confirm the detail. Finishing that first draft is key.

That said, heading off on my field trip after the fact created a few problems, most notably, discovering that a number of key scenes in my novel had been scuppered by the reality of the landscape. The position of buildings, the frequency of traffic, the layout of roads - all these things created holes the size of the O2 centre in these scenes.

It's not a deal breaker and it shouldn't change a thing, except that I will be required to insert a bit more ambiguity into the location - again, the use of artistic licence means that the detail of a location only needs to be seen as possible, it doesn't have to be reality (although, there will always be someone out there who will pick you up on the differences). At first I was disheartened by the discovery of inconsistencies in my novel, but then later, I decided to change the location slightly, move it further inland, shift a few buildings around and bang! things are back on track. As I said, it's not a deal breaker, but it always pays to know that the differences exist.

Checking out your chosen location can send you back to the drawing board, but in the end, you are the master of your fictional world, and knowing the detail of the location allows you to make changes within the realms of possibility, reality be damned.

On the flip side, checking out your location can also allow you to add texture to your prose and give you confidence in your writing, giving you comfort in the knowledge that you know the detail of your location and can tweak it as you see fit, within the blurred borders of reality. Field trips are definitely advised and remember, they are tax deductible!

Yesterday's itinerary: Shoreditch, Bow Common, Limehouse and Hoxton.

Feel The Weight

2009-01-18T19:01:00.004Z

Work is progressing well on the first draft - I've planned out the final chapters of the novel and began writing them today. If all goes well, the first draft should be in the bag by the end of the month, all 250,000 words of it!!

Although it is a daunting task, I'm actually looking forward to the second draft. It will be more of a re-write as than an edit, but more on that when I get there.

Lately, I've found myself on more than one occasion thinking about holding my novel in its final, published form. Sure, that's the premature ejaculatory equivalent of "You had me at hello" but dreaming is a right we all have, and it's a great feeling. Visualising the cover, feeling the weight of it (a shade lighter than the current word count would reflect) and showing family and friends. It's a great visual target to have in mind and when it happens, it'll be something special.

Something else that is special is the Theakston's Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival in Harrogate. I received my final bill last week and although bills over four hundred pounds usually make me want to top myself, this one has got me excited about July. Pundits are already talking about it and it's January! Check out the discussions here at Mark Billingham's forum.

I'd also like to mention how much of a fan I am of The West Wing TV series. I'm only in the middle of Season 2 but I am really enjoying it. Sure it gets a little misty eyed at times and has its fair share of American flag waving, but I find it very interesting and Aaron Sorkin's writing is amazing. Shame he left after the fourth season, but I still have one and a half seasons to go before that happens.

Martin Sheen for President!

Dirty Plates, Creased Shirts, and Mince

2009-01-11T16:33:00.009Z

I was washing the dishes yesterday when the answer suddenly came to me - a solution to a problem I was having with my book. It was a pretty bloody good solution too, if I may say so myself.

I was having issues with the plot; one scene in particular which occurs very close to the end of the book. The scene had to be bloody, nail biting, sneak-a-peek-between-your-fingers type stuff. But it also had to portray a pivotal moment for two of the main characters.

The problem was this: I knew how I arrived at the scene and I knew how I wanted to leave it, but bugger me if I knew what went on in between. I've found you really can box yourself into a corner sometimes, plot wise, and finding a way out can prove difficult.

Anyway, I decided to step away, take a break and let the mind sort out my conundrum while I performed menial household chores like washing the dishes.

And it worked. At the time, I was very, very pleased with the solution that I had come up with.

I finished up the dishes, returned to my computer, and sketched out a rough plan for the scene. Reading back over it, I smiled and deemed it pure gold.

Stepping away from your novel helps a lot, especially if you find yourself in a sticky situation. Sometimes typing your way through it can work, letting the fingers run free, trusting in the magical power of prose that you have at your fingertips. However, more often than not, it can be difficult to arrive at a solution while sitting in front of your computer, staring at the words (or lack thereof) on the screen. Shutting down the computer for an hour and concentrating on something else can do the trick. The subconscious mind is an amazing thing; while you are mopping the floor or completing your tax return (ahem, 31 January people), it can busily and quite happily piece the puzzle together and work out the intricacies of the scene for you. Cue the dishwashing.

Conversely, however, taking time out can kill a scene or idea. This is what happened to me. After jotting down my idea ("pure gold" remember), I headed off to Greenwich to watch some cricket on Sky at a mate's place. On the train ride, I managed to convince myself that the scene, as it played out after my dishwashing session, was not right. It had the wrong feel to it; it was completely out of sync with the feel and tone of the novel. The scene did need to be significant and stand out from the rest, but my idea was too extreme. So I binned it.

Which lead me back to the drawing board and I have just spent the last 45 minutes, sitting in front of my computer, thinking about how the scene could work, and getting no where. If only I could come up with the answer.

I think I'll iron my shirts.

BTW - for those of you who are interested in what my ditched dishwashing inspired scene was all about, it involved a mincer and a severed little finger.

If you are now disappointed that the scene was canned, it's probably a reflection of your good self. But fear not, sick puppies: if ironing the shirts doesn't work, the mincer might find its way back in.

Malicious Intent by Kathryn Fox

2008-12-17T20:03:00.003Z

Check out my review of Kathryn Fox's first novel in the Dr Anya Crichton series in my Aussie blog over at the Australian Crime Fiction site - here.

The Open Road

2008-12-17T12:54:00.006Z

Back in early October, I set myself the goal of completing the first draft of my novel by 19 December. That day is under 48 hours away and I am not yet in sight of the end, but I still feel pretty happy with what I've achieved recently:

Winner of National Novel Writing Month - joining the thousands who completed 50,000 words in the month of November.

Developed a much more structured and disciplined writing practice.

Passed 200,000 words on my first draft.

Two hundred thousand words is a hell of a lot of writing (and waffle) and by my calculations, that makes me 80% of the way there. I'm expecting the last twenty percent to be completed quite quickly, anticipating that rush at the end that many authors talk about, when everything starts to come together, when the finish line is in sight and where I will be bounding out of bed in the mornings into my study, eager to keep cracking on with it. I haven't reached that stage yet, but I have caught glimpses of it, especially as I am now thinking a lot more about how to end this book.

Mark Billingham uses the analogy of driving through fog when talking about writing and plotting a book. He knows his destination but doesn't know how he will get there. He can only see into the fog as far as the reach of the headlights. The rest is unknown.

My approach to writing is similar, although, for this first novel, I do have a map. The fog is still there but I know pretty much the route I am taking. However, I still find the writing difficult. To take the analogy one step further, firing myself up to sit down and start typing is like starting a car engine on a cold morning, taking numerous attempts before it roars to life. Even with a map, the first few miles are sluggish, as if I know where I am going but I am stuck in slow moving traffic. I become bored and distracted and wonder whether it's worth making the trip at all. Then I see a gap in the traffic and I take it and end up on an empty freeway, with nothing hindering my progress, not even fog. I step on the accelerator and push the car to its limits, speeding along that empty road. That is the moment I really enjoy and I hope, as I approach the end of my journey, that the speed and exhilaration continues.

In other news, Borders booksellers in America have signed a deal with pubilsher HarperStudio that no longer allows the retailer to return unsold books back to the publisher. My first thought was that retailers would order a lot less books and steer clear from unknown and untested authors in order to reduce the risk of being stuck with unwanted stock. This would be bad news for authors all round. Sandra Ruttan, however, takes a more optimistic and informed view here.

It's Over But The Writing Continues . . .

2008-12-04T20:46:00.009Z

Fifty thousand words and thirty days later: NaNoWriMo - done.

It was an immense challenge, but I surprised myself with my commitment and planning, ensuring that I kept up the word count, meeting and exceeding my daily quota of words on a regular basis. I also proved to myself that a regular writing schedule can be squeezed around a full time job, which has always been a big hurdle for me. In addition, not only did I develop some good writing habits, I took a big step forward towards finishing the first draft on my novel.

The writing doesn't stop there, though. I still have my target of finishing this first draft before dawn on the 19 December. The challenge is to keep the momentum going without the fun of a contest or without that feeling of camaraderie with other writers that is experienced during NaNoWriMo.

I'm doing it a little different for December too. I'm not aiming for the same word count each day because I don't want to rush the intricacies of the final quarter of the book. Instead, I have a goal of 90 minutes of writing a day. The first few days of December made me quite proud; despite a busy schedule at work, I met my 90 minute goal and exceeded 2,000 words in each sitting. The rest of the week has been a debacle due to increasing work commitments; no time spent on writing. Some catching up is required but I feel confident that I can do that over the next two weeks.

NaNoWriMo was a very beneficial experience and I learned a lot - as I suspect everybody participating did - so congrats to everyone else who took part - well done! Looking forward to next November.

Elsewhere on the planet, news of the Harrogate 2009 lineup has been published and for me, the highlight is the attendance of George Pelecanos. He would have to be one of my favourite authors, if not the favourite. His novels are a pleasure to read and are super cool. He is such a great guy too. The last time he was at Harrogate, he gave some inspiring words of advice that helped me kick start my novel and get over the fear of tackling such a big project. That advice was given to the general audience, so I hope I'll be able to sneak in a five minute chat with him at the bar next July, one on one. Quite an exciting prospect.

I'm not alone here: the ladies, especially those on Mark Billingham's forum, have their own reasons for getting excited about Mr Pelecanos's attendance:

50,000 Words Later . . .

2008-11-28T08:19:00.004Z

NaNoWriMo 2008

2008-11-01T12:06:00.007Z

It's National Novel Writing Month this month and it all starts today!!

The month of November, over the past nine years, has been the month where thousands of people around the world write a 50,000 word novel. Plot, synopsis and planning go out the window - it's all about getting words onto paper or screen, committing yourself to thirty days of solid writing, finishing or at least making a good headway into that novel that you've always said you were gonna write.

A month full of tears, triumph, late nights, early mornings and loads of coffee giving birth to thousands of novels and novel writers. Sure, the output will be drivel at best, but what's a first draft supposed to be but a scattered plotline hastily put together that makes no sense and contains flat characters and clichéd dialogue. That's what rewrites are for, to fix all that stuff up.

But that's for December and beyond, for now, over 15,000 writers will be doing what so many people say they will do, try to do and frequently fail to do - they are writing a novel.

Today, thousands will be hunkered over computers or notebooks, churning out their first draft, keeping an eye on the word count even at this very early stage, calculating how many to go before they reach the big 50k. It's going to be a long month, a painful month, but ultimately, a rewarding month.

I signed up at the last moment. It wasn't even on my radar even though I've always wanted to participate. A colleague at work said that she was doing it this year for the first time and encouraged me to get involved. My mind buzzed around with the status of my own novel, thinking, can I really ditch my recently set goals and start something new? I'd already planned to write 52,000 words this month as it is; could I go back on this?

And then it hit me - something about two birds and a big effing stone.

So I'm on board. I've buddied up with eleven other participants, mainly from the BTZ forum, and we are all going to knock this 50k on the head, and write a novel in the process.

So, good luck to Jo, Tamren, Nethers, RockChick, Sammo, Smudge, Iain, Betty, Chel, Roger and Maria and everyone else!!

Heads down, bums up, people!

Goal Related Anxiety

2008-10-03T13:13:00.005+01:00

One of the blogs I religiously follow is written by Jo, a budding writer, who has developed her writing skills over the past year or so through consistent blogging. Recently she has been writing elsewhere on a daily basis, working on developing story ideas and to that end, she has completed her first short story. She also has many other ideas bouncing around her head, characters begging her for life, stories ready to be put to paper.

However, her latest blog entry suggests that she has gone even further and has walked blindly into the realm of the "serious" writer by committing a god awful act: she has set some goals.

Of course, I'm only joking; this is great news, an important step, and it indicates that she is thinking about doing more with her writing ability. However, now she is suffernig from some goal related anxiety.

Let me reassure Jo and any other anxious writers out there - it happens to us all. It's just part of the process. All writers feel that pressure building when they have writing goals to meet, whether they are self induced targets or those created by the signing of a multi-million pound contract. The anxiety manifests itself through the verbal or written commitment and what goes with it: worrying about whether you can come up with ideas, whether you can write something worth reading and whether you can deliver the final product on time.

As you may well know from reading my blog, I have a history of setting goals and not meeting them. Many blog entries have detailed my "new" approach to completing my novel. From all of these experiences, I have discovered that there are two key elements to dealing with goal anxiety: set realistic goals, and do the work!

Setting the goals is quite exciting, but you can get carried away, promise yourself the world and set unrealistic goals (e.g. watch 100 movies in a year). Unrealistic goals just adds to the anxiety - aiming too high can be disheartening if you constantly miss your targets; the more you fall behind, the bigger you see the challenge to get back on track. You may even give up or just set a whole bunch of new unrealistic goals - maybe even aim higher to make up for lost ground. This, obviously, won't help you.

Short term targets need to be achievable; you need to consider the time you have, the sacrifices you can make and what level of necessary pressure you need to exist. Short term targets form manageable stepping stones towards your ultimate goal and, in my opinion, your ultimate goal should be as over the top and as ambitious as possible. If the realistic stepping stones take you there, anything is possible.

Now this analysis of the validity of writing goals is in no means a reflection of Jo's chosen targets. The goals she has set are to complete a couple of short stories and to participate in this year's NaNoWriMo, a month long writing frenzy aimed at completing that one novel that's alludes so many people due to other commitments, excuses, etc. Jo's goals are very sensible and attainable - a few short stories will help develop her style, and NaNoWriMo is the perfect forum to develop a regular writing routine and practice writing under tight deadlines. Both goals are realistic and form the first few steps towards her dreams.

As for me, I need to practice what I preach. I've set another new goal: to complete the first draft of my novel by 19 December. It's a realistic goal given the circumstances and I am happy with it, but it's the last time I'm setting writing goals this year. No more moving targets - I either make it or not.

It's time to fulfill the second key element of dealing with goal anxiety - doing the work!!

Down To The Wire

2008-08-24T10:52:00.004+01:00

Apologies for this break in transmission but I have to interupt my long drawn out summary of the festival to announce that I have secured my ticket to an event that rivals Harrogate as Event Of The Year.

The Wire Weekender - check out the details here. If you are a fan, this is a "not-to-be-missed" event.

Mos Def.

The Crown of Crime - Part 2 - The Auditorium and The Bookstore

2008-07-26T10:20:00.020+01:00

It's relatively hot in most parts of The Crown Hotel, but none more so than in the main auditorium. Huge stand alone fans were situated at each corner of the room, blowing air towards the ceiling, yet it was still hot. People complained, puffed out their cheeks, and fanned themselves with their Crime Writing Festival programmes. Yet more often than not, the place was packed.

The high level of attendance was due to the quality panels and interviews that took place in the auditorium over the three days. There was something for everyone, from cosy crime to Bloody Women to James Bond. What had the punters returning, using their Weekend Rover tickets, despite the heat, was their urge to see top quality authors from the crime genre talking about their books, the process of writing and their views on the industry. More often than not the personalities of the crime authors came shining through, leading to many humorous moments, usually involving Mark Billingham, Val McDermid, Stuart MacBride and Martyn Waites.

There were a number of special events in the programme too that warrant a mention:

- The Theakston Old Peculier Crime Writing Award presentation, with the majority of the reasonably long short list up on stage, discussing their nominated books with Natasha Cooper, was very interesting. The tension was mounting until the eventual winner was announced: Stef Penney! She was obviously not expecting the award, her second for her debut novel, "The Tenderness of Wolves". Her eyes weren't as wide as last year's winner, Allan Guthrie, when she accepted the award, but she was equally surprised and delighted.

- Foul Play this year was replaced by The Balloon Game, where six authors represented six famous authors from yesteryear, defending their place in the balloon while the audience voted one of them off at a time, the progress of which was kept on track by Mark Lawson. Some of the authors embraced the characters they were portraying (most notably Stuart MacBride with his squeaky voice and hand puppet raven, no doubt channeling Edgar Allen Poe from beyond the grave) and others dispelled with political correctness to make their point while sticking true to their character (case in point: John Rickards and his "darky" comment, expressed in a very poor approximation of Mickey Spillane). Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was ultimately voted as the winner of The Balloon Game, although I suspect this was mainly due to the popularity of Mark Billingham, who was representing him, rather than the man himself.

- The annual Late Night Quiz Show took place on the Saturday night to much whooping, snickering and drinking. The questions were a lot easier this year but that didn't make it any less competitive. The ultimate winning team included Mark Lawson, Robert Crais, Kevin Wignall and Mark Billingham, some might say a team heavily weighted with ring-ins. As usual, it was a cracker of a party!

Another drawcard of the festival are the guest appearances. This year, interviews were conducted, in the same sweltering auditorium, with the likes of Peter Robinson, Robert Crais, Sam Bourne, and Andy McNab (he of the shadowed face). The place was packed to the rafters during these interviews with fans of the author and genre alike. In addition, there were two very interesting solo presentations by Jeffrey Deaver and Tess Gerritsen, offering up a fresh take on the standard interview and panel style event.

At the end of each of the guest interviews, panels and events, amidst a rousing round of applause, all of the attendees are invited to head towards the Waterstones book store (on location) for signings with all the authors involved. This is where most people head, with their dog eared copies of the author's back catalogue or with credit cards clutched in hand, ready to buy the latest release. Off they rush, back down the long corridor to a large room set up with shelves and shelves of books and a long table for signings.

Depending on the author, the queue often coils within the bookstore and out the entrance, sometimes taking up to an hour before the final person arrives at the table. It is worth it though, as you get a chance to not only have a personalised message scribbled in your book, but a chance to verbally trip over yourself when faced with an ever friendly face willing to spend a couple of minutes talking to you. All the authors are accessible over the weekend and the signing table is a prime example of that.

I spent a bit of time lining up for signatures but it was worth it: I spoke to and had my book signed by Kathryn Fox (an Aussie writer and a very pleasant lady), Chris Simms (a great bloke) and Jeffrey Deaver (another nice fella who shook my hand twice). No matter how successful I happen to get, I think I will always be in awe of established writers and will always seek them out to sign my book - the signings are a special part of the festival.

Another familiar sight in the Waterstones book store was my fellow BTZ members, Betty and Maria, more often than not found with their heads peaking over a large pile of books in their arms as they made their way to the cash register and then the signing queue. Just like me, they can not resist the feel of a new book in their hands!!

Now, it's getting late, and with the majority of people heading upstairs to bed to either get some sleep or snatch a quick read of their recently signed novel, the rest of us move to the most important room in the hotel.

The bar.

The Crown of Crime - Part 1 - The Sofas, The Place and The Champagne Room

2008-07-25T07:49:00.016+01:00

Walking into the lobby of The Crown Hotel in Harrogate is like greeting an old friend. The handshake is warm and familiar, the time since you last saw each other folds in on itself, and you can't wait to retire to the bar for a few quiet ones and a catch up.

Last Wednesday, as I entered The Crown and walked past the sofas in the middle of the lobby, heading to reception to check into my room, I was overcome with a sense of kinship with the old hotel, which, in only its second year, has become synonymous with The Theakston Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival.

The layout of the hotel is overly familiar even though I've only been here once before. During the festival last year, I covered almost every inch of its hallowed ground in different states of euphoria, awe and sobriety. I know it like the back of my hand.

The sofas in the middle of The Crown’s lobby, reduced to two this year in order to make room for the Festival Reception area, are akin to home base. It is the location for long nights of chatting with fellow BTZ forum members, authors and the occasional party crasher. The bar is where it all happens in the early hours of the morning, but the sofas are your saving grace, where you get a chance to recharge.

Facing the hotel reception desk with the sofas on your right, there is a long corridor to the left, leading down half the length of the hotel and ending at the hotel's restaurant "The Place". This is the location for pre and post festival meals and the occasional brewskie if the other bar isn't open.

There is a side door within the restaurant leading outside to numerous chairs and tables set up along the pavement, large umbrellas shielding aspiring writers from the pouring rain. More often than not, this is where Sarah, Dean and I, amongst other authors in the making, retired to between events, if the bar area wasn't humming with fans and authors. It was freezing outside, but Sarah was beaming enough with excitement to keep us warm. Her little "baby" was in the hands of an agent and things were looking good. Dean and I listened intently; we were there alongside her, going through the ups and downs, absolutely stoked for her and her potential career launch.

Back inside, through The Place and back along the corridor, there is a large room to your right, where Creative Thursday took place. A day of discussions and workshops about honing the craft of writing, with such teachers as Greg Mosse, Val McDermid and Hilary Hale passing on their wealth of knowledge. Iain was there too, an already successful writer from the BTZ forum, who had popped in for a couple of events and Creative Thursday. He was the first in a number of cases of a catch up way too brief.

This room also held the book launch of Simon Kernick's Deadline and the celebration of Peter Robinson's 21 Years of DI Alan Banks. Holding a glass of champagne in one hand during the Deadline launch, I was pleased to speak briefly with the likes of Chris Simms (who was looking forward to participating in the upcoming Damaged Heroes panel), Stuart MacBride and the man himself, Simon Kernick, who also brilliantly chaired the festival this year.

Leaving this room, you turn right back towards the lobby, passing a small room where the Festival team were often spotted working feverishly to ensure the weekend ran smoothly in all its aspects, Erica leading them through the trenches, delivering the goods and solving problems with the customer’s satisfaction and enjoyment of the festival always in mind.

Arriving in the reception area, you are able to give another longing look towards the sofas where, more often than not, you found Jo, Stuart and Helena, hobnobbing it with fans and authors alike. Another reason why those sofas are considered home base - Jo (another aspiring writer and a blogging good one too) has exuberance that is contagious, Stuart has plenty of stories to tell, including his run in with a Sat Nav, and Helena has entertainment value, which increases as the night goes on.

Pulling yourself away from the sofas, running parallel to the bar, you'll find yourself at the beginning of a well tread corridor . . .

Writing to The Chiefs

2008-06-25T12:34:00.005+01:00

Nothing like a looming deadline to get the writing juices going. Self imposed targets are nice, but the repercussions from missing one never really has much impact. Am I going to forbid myself from a reward, such as buying a CD or watching a movie, because I missed my self imposed deadline? No, not really. So a deadline with a little more weight to it is always a good thing.

It’s festival time again and no, I’m not talking about the music variety where you watch big name bands in the rain or find nice little nuggets on the seat of the portaloo or try to sleep in a tent with a rock digging into your back through your sleeping bag. No, I’m talking about The Theakstons Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival (formerly known and more commonly referred to as the Harrogate Crime Writing Festival). Yes, it’s on again – three days of seminars, readings, panels and entertainment from some of the big names in UK and ROW crime writing.

Creative Thursday is on again too – one day (before the official festivities begin) of informal talks about all things crime writery, delivered by authors, publishers and agents in the field. Very entertaining and full of little nuggets of information and advice (and I’m not talking about the music festival type nuggets).

And, as with last year, I’ve signed up for a One-on-One session with Greg Mosse, another opportunity to present my work in front of the experts and get some free advice.

This is where the deadline comes into it: 3,000 words by July 7. Not self-imposed at all; if I don't hit this one, I miss out on a great opportunity for constructive advice and I'm sure to receive a raised eyebrow from Mr Mosse himself.

What to submit? Well, last time, I submitted a 3,000 word synopsis of the novel I am working on and spent a very worthwhile 20 minutes going through it with Mr Mosse. This time around, I am submitting 3,000 words of prose. The first time, it was about seeing whether my idea for a novel would be worth pursuing. This time, it’s about whether I have the skill to write it.

I plan to submit the first two chapters of my novel, restricted by the word count. At this stage, this involves re-writing the first chapter and writing another from scratch. The novel has been written slightly out of sequence so far, but coincidentally, I have reached the stage where I need to write that second chapter. Good timing indeed.

This type of feedback is gold, especially when you are a first time writer halfway through a novel. Greg Mosse is very enthusiastic but gives good critical advice: encouragement and guidance, two things any good writer can do with from time to time.

The deadline is approaching and I will get more than just a CD as a reward if I meet it.

That said, I am thinking about Kaiser Chiefs.

Best Laid Plans

2008-05-29T18:44:00.006+01:00

You would be forgiven for thinking that my lack of activity on this blog over the past six months is due to an extraordinary amount of progress on my novel: hours and hours of sitting at my desk, churning out brilliantly written prose, hurtling through the chapters and finally finishing the first draft.

My total dedication to finishing the novel would definitely explain my lack of presence on the web, both here and on the numerous forums and communities that I usually gravitate to.

If only that were so. Unfortunately, there are a few other reasons why I have been a little bit “quiet” lately and none of them revolve around completing my novel (and none of them are all that exciting either).

At the start of the year, I listed my intentions for the first six months, identifying my priorities and putting together a battle plan. Completing the first draft of my novel was the first priority.

It was my intention to have a completed first draft and three polished chapters to take with me to Harrogate Crime Festival 2008. There was no expectation that anyone would be asking for them at the festival, but I hoped to make contact with agents and / or publishers, grab a business card or two. Then, as the battle plan dictated, I would make a submission to these nice people, while my face and name were still fresh in their mind. I would have three chapters ready to go and a completed draft behind me, not only for the off chance that someone would like to see a partial or full manuscript but for confidence and practicality. Consensus says that it is best to approach agents and publishers when you’ve got a completed novel to hand over if so requested to do so. Nothing worse than being asked for something you don’t have.

Sound battle plan.

Then came reality. The goal with the lowest priority, performing well in my temporary promotion at work, took over and monopolised my time. The new position equated to long hours and mountains of frustration. Sure the experience was worth a lot, I don’t begrudge that, but ultimately, my true calling suffered.

In short, the first draft isn’t complete. Not by a long shot. And to tell you the truth, as I sit and type this, I am at my most frustrated and lowest point as a writer thus far. And what’s even more frustrating is that my disappointment doesn’t come from producing a piece of writing I’m not happy with or finding out that I’m not much of a writer after all, but it’s the fact that I haven’t had the chance to do what I set out to do. I haven’t had the time and the consistency that I believe I need to get this novel completed. Writing a few thousand words one day and then nothing for a week is not an efficient or effective writing approach. For one whole month in March/April, I hardly sat in front of the computer at all.

Depressing.

But I must look forward and I must stay focused and positive. I won’t be able to do what I had planned for Harrogate and I don’t propose to take short cuts like submitting chapters without a full draft backing it up – that’s not the approach I want to take. So, instead, I have to regroup and get back into a routine of writing and not worry about a potential wasted opportunity.

And really, it won’t be wasted at all. Harrogate will be a blast no matter what – it is such a great experience for any budding writer. You talk to people, listen to what they have to say, soak up information and advice from the best in the business; and you have a bit of fun. It all makes a difference. I might even take a few chapters along with me; just in case.

You never know.

John Connolly - A Top Bloke

2008-05-16T14:04:00.006+01:00

Last night, I attended a book signing at Borders Oxford Street for John Connolly’s new book, The Reapers. From my readings of blogs and websites and after seeing him at Harrogate a few years ago, I knew him to be the type of author who is admired by his fans and respected by his peers. I had also read two of his books, Every Dead Thing and The Book of Lost Things, both very entertaining novels. When I saw posters advertising his bookstore appearance, I penned it in my diary to attend, expecting an entertaining hour of readings, questions and signings. What I got was a lot more.

Borders had set up a section on the first floor for about 20-30 people in front of a podium with a microphone and numerous stands displaying John Connolly’s books. John arrived and spent a good twenty minutes talking through aspects and elements of his new novel, The Reapers, in a quite informal, informative and entertaining fashion. The next 20 was taken up by Q&A. I really enjoyed it all and took away many good pointers about writing. John also talked about some of the elements contained in his new book, including male heterosexual relationships and what drives someone to kill. We were also treated to a reading from loose sheets of paper constituting an extract from Draft 1 of John’s novel in progress, The Lovers. All very good stuff.

As I was lining up to have my copy of The Reapers signed by John, he announced to the audience that if they were so inclined, we could all head to a local bar for a beer and a more informal chat. This sounded wonderful, a great chance to meet John and a handful of his many fans (including Sarah Higgins, a fellow Harrogate attendee and BTZ forum member). It was an invitation I wasn’t expecting and something I had never encountered before. I was pleasantly surprised.

After the books were signed, nice of us, including John and his publisher, headed to a reserved area in a pub off Oxford Street and John most generously shouted us some drinks. We chatted and mingled, talking about anything and everything, not just centred on his novels and had a great laugh. It was a very informal get together that I thoroughly enjoyed.

I was floored again by John’s generosity when he invited us all to dinner. How about that? I couldn’t believe it! It was a nice gesture to his devout fans and something, I could tell, he really wanted to do for them.

The seven of us who had dinner with John included three fans who had travelled from Iceland, Belgium and Spain just to be at this book signing. Everyone was known to John through the forum on his website and through meetings at crime writing festivals and previous readings; they were all very dedicated followers of his work. Ultimately, though, his invitation was open to everyone who had turned up at the signing and I was lucky enough to be able to tag along.

It was a lovely evening, very entertaining and informative and a great experience. I also got to know more about John Connolly, who proved himself to be a real generous and nice guy.

Or in Aussie parlance – a top bloke.

Thanks John!

London Marathon 2008

2008-04-09T16:54:00.002+01:00

Here's one of the reasons why blog activity has been at an all time low: I'm running the London Marathon.

Yes, this weekend, I will be joining many thousands running 26.2 miles through the streets of London.

And yes, I will be doing it for a good cause: raising money for Sense, the national voluntary organisation working with and supporting people of all ages who are deafblind or have associated disabilities.

Please use the website below if you would like to make a donation:

http://www.justgiving.com/darylnilbett

I will let you know how I went and then return the blog to its normal content and the long wait for an update will be over!!!

Sorry? An update. On my novel. The one that I'm writing.

Yeah, that one.

The Corner: A Year In The Life Of An Inner-City Neighbourhood by David Simon & Ed Burns

2007-12-02T20:01:00.000Z

David Simon and Ed Burns are currently well known for the creation of their hit television show, The Wire - a drama about drugs, the people that sell them and the people that fight against them, all played out in the streets of Baltimore.

Long before the hit HBO show, David Simon was a reporter for the Baltimore Sun. He took time off as a reporter to spend a year with the Homicide unit of the Baltimore Police Department, spawning the excellent Homicide: A Year on the Killing Street, which was subsequently made into a critically acclaimed television series of the same name. Ed Burns was one of the detectives who worked during that year so vividly described in David Simon's book.

Persuaded by his editor, David Simon joined forces with Ed Burn to spend over a year experiencing Baltimore from the other side of the fence - with the dealers in the street and the victims of drug addiction.

What resulted is this intricate and emotional account of a handful of lives living in the heart of the drug problem in West Baltimore. The Corner: A Year In The Life Of An Inner-City Neighbourhood tracks the hopes and dreams, the disappointments and failures, and the addictions and deaths of the everyday people who are slaves to the corner.

Real life characters such as DeAndre, a teenager pulled towards the vice of drug dealing for purposes of money and status, or his mother, Fran, who tries so hard to raise her kids properly while fighting an uphill battle with addiction, or his father, Gary, once an established entrepreneur, reduced to a dribbling drug fiend by the corner, conjuring up capers in order to get his next blast, despite the purity of his heart, or Ella, a mother trying to make a difference on Fayette Street, working hard at the Martin Luther King Jr Recreation Centre, battling to guide those kids who attend towards a better life, knowing in her heart that the pull of the corner is stronger than her resolve.

These are people whose successes and failures have an emotional impact that strikes with greater strength than any well developed fictional character - these are real people going through real hardship on an unforgiving landscape.

Their personal struggles are traumatic and heartbreaking, but the battle of the system on a national level is just as disheartening. The authors tackle both aspects with the utmost care and skill - episodes of individual drama read like a first hand account (which is the case in most instances), bringing the reader into the reality of the character's lives, fears and dreams, written in an intimate and personal way; much more than just a matter-of-fact account of their struggle. Chapters dedicated to the broader issues aren't preachy and do not attempt to find solutions; instead, they are accounts of the state of play, conveying successfully the helplessness of the situation, the relevance of which is referenced back to the real lives of The Corner's many characters.

Reading The Corner is like experiencing a well researched piece of crime fiction, one that creates a strong, emotional connection between reader and character, while highlighting dramatic circumstances in a visceral and thought-provoking way, adding realism to the struggles and outcomes of the downtrodden on Fayette Street.

But this is not fiction, this is reality, and The Corner is more powerful because of it.

Nothing short of an important masterpiece.

Clinging Onto A Sizeable Chunk

2007-11-15T17:50:00.000Z

I’ve come to a point in the writing process where I’m starting to have concerns about word length. The old adage goes: quality, not quantity, but there are other matters concerning me besides whether or not my novel is a big thick brick of complete dribble.

After many hours toiling away, I am approaching the completion of the first part of the book. This part constitutes, by my estimation, about forty percent of the storyline. So far, I have written just under 270 pages and approximately 70,000 words – that’s a lot of pages and I’m quite proud of the output.

But here’s the thing: doing the quick calculations based on work performed thus far, my trusty calculator suggests that, by the time I’ve completed my first draft of the novel, it will be 675 pages and 175,000 words long.

Yikes.

The average length of a novel is between 80,000 and 120,000 words and even after inevitable cuts on subsequent drafts (using Stuart MacBride’s stated estimate of 25% cut as a guide – it’s in his blog somewhere but god damned if I can find it), I end up with 131,000 words – i.e. over 500 pages.

Even if I wield my pen like a Kurosawa samurai, taking down words with little prejudice, I will still end up with a novel on the high end of the average length scale.

What’s the problem, I pretend to hear you ask?

Well, the decision on length (cough), unfortunately, comes down to marketing. Will agents and publishers look favourably upon an unknown writer who has delivered a tomb of a book, weighing in at 500 plus pages? Will readers, picking up my novel for the first time, think, “I haven’t heard of this guy before, it looks interesting, but it also looks like a bitch to get through, and my arthritis has been acting up lately, I don’t think I will be able to hold this book for the required amount of time without sustaining some serious damage to my wrists” or something like that?

My story isn’t a broad sweeping epic, although it does contain women doing housework. However, it probably needs to be in the upper echelons of the word count scale for the story to be properly told.

So I have a dilemma. What to do about an escalating word count, if anything?

One of the options I have toyed with is to cut out a sizeable chunk from the book. It’s a hard decision to make, not one that rests easily with me. Without this chunk, the story could probably hold its head above water and be a reasonably entertaining read. With it, my novel will have deeper layers and intricate plot lines and will do more than hold its head above water - it will be setting records at the Olympic pool. More importantly, with this section of the book intact, the novel will remain as I originally intended it to be.

The dilemma remains: do I drop out a good portion of my novel to reduce the word count? At this stage, I’m finding it difficult to make this decision, to lose so much of my original vision for the sake of meeting some market determined word length. They say sometimes you have to kill your babies (i.e. cut out some of the best bits or characters that you have written), but I don’t think I have it in me to murder so many innocent children. Not at this stage anyway.

My decision for now is to soldier on with the intention of writing the complete novel in all its original glory, i.e. including Mr Sizeable Chunk. To hell with marketing. After the second and third drafts are complete, after the 25% has been taken out and the book reads like a well oiled machine with pages flying by faster than you can read them, where quantity has been replaced with quality, where Elmore Leonard’s 10 Rules of Writing have all been adopted, only at that point will I look at the word count and make a decision.

Then, I may well have to start sharpening me knives.

James Twining's The Gilded Seal Book Launch

2007-11-06T20:22:00.000Z

There are certain moments that can have a great impact on you as a writer, especially if you are a writer just starting out, who is testing the waters and is susceptible to every positive and negative influence.

I went to a book launch last week for James Twining, author of The Double Eagle, The Black Sun and his most recently published novel, The Gilded Seal. James had very kindly offered readers of his blog to attend his “invitation-only” book launch. Being one of these readers and having met him at the Harrogate Crime Writing Festival earlier this year and finding him to be a “top bloke” in Aussie parlance, I took him up on the offer.

I also wanted to see what a book launch was all about. I’m sure it differs quite significantly for each author, from location to the guest list, but I assume the structure and purpose is reasonably consistent and that the experience would be quite indicative of this important event in a writer’s life.

James Twining’s Gilded Seal book launch was a warm, social affair held in the pleasant interior of a members-only club off The Strand. When I arrived, pretty much on time, there were not too many people there: small groups talking to each other, a waiter manning a table loaded with free wine and beer and a representative from The Pan Bookshop selling copies of the book in all its hardcover splendour on the other side of the room.

Not being the greatest in the skill of mingling (especially when sober), I took a glass of red wine and wandered around, looking at the lovely paintings on the wall as if I recognised the style or artist, waiting for a moment when I could join a conversation without getting the “who farted” look. Eventually, the ice broke and I got to talking to one of James’s former work buddies. He talked about James’s achievements, seemingly quite proud of his colleague. He also found it interesting to be seeing the guy he used to work with in a different light, as a writer of books. He found it slightly surreal to be taking photos of him and asking for his autograph, a guy whom he had probably worked with in a normal corporate environment. I agreed that it would seem a bit odd.

As the evening continued, more people swarmed into the middle sized room until it was filled with family and friends and hangers on (yep, me), talking and laughing and enjoying themselves. James made his way diligently around the room, making sure he spoke with everyone who attended, almost as if he was at his wedding, thanking everyone for coming. I could see that he was enjoying himself too: here were around fifty people, family, friends, colleagues, all here to show their appreciation and support, to show how happy they were for him for accomplishing the feat of finishing and publishing a new book. And almost everyone was at his elbow at some stage in the evening, watching him sign their copy of The Gilded Seal, purchased on the night. This night was all about him.

After his publisher introduced the new book to the gathering, James gave a speech, talking about what the book meant to him, what he liked about it. He thanked people who had supported him throughout, including a special mention to his wife. The round of applause was heartfelt and as genuine as you can get.

The book launch, to my eyes, is a very personal affair, an intimate presentation of something personal that has taken much time and effort for you to produce. It is a gesture of thanks to all those close to you and all those who have been by your side throughout the process, always encouraging, always interested, always with the belief that you can do it. The book is your little baby and what better start for it then to take its first steps among family and friends, before it heads out into the cruel world. And it’s your moment and no one takes it from you, because the people you have invited are happy for your achievement, no, they are damn excited about it. I hope to experience it first hand, as a writer.

James Twining made it over to my side of the room halfway through the night, signed my book and said he was glad I could come. We chatted for a bit then and again, later, when I was leaving the room with Kathy. He is a great, approachable guy and quite inspiring to me. He is an author who hasn’t given up his day job, still working a full-time career and still managing to find time to write. I began to feel quite positive about my writing after speaking with him, caught up in the possibilities and opportunities ahead of me, but I did not get carried away: the night was solely for James Twining and he deserved the successful book launch that he received.

Check out The Gilded Seal and his other novels at http://www.jamestwining.com/

Gaining Momentum

2007-09-28T08:19:00.000+01:00

After two weeks of slim pickings, the momentum is building up again.

I have found over the past month or so that the drive to write, the desire to tell the story, is always there, but it is the momentum that is hard to maintain.

If your situation dictates that writing can only be performed in the few spare hours that you have in a day, a minor event can upset that routine. A major event can almost derail the whole process, and a multitude of events can find you at the point of abandonment, feeling frustrated and anxious, like you have literally lost the plot.

The last month was chaotic. Weddings, presentations, long hours at work, house hunting – it’s been fun, it’s been stressful. And I haven’t managed to string more than a few pages together in one sitting.

Treasured characters became strangers. The storyline felt foreign and incoherent, lacking direction. The finish line was a million miles away. It was all falling apart.

I’ve endured these moments. When I’ve managed to steal an hour here, thirty minutes there, to sit down and write, all I achieved was to fuel my own anxiety. Looking at the words on the screen, the clear vision I had a few weeks ago had fogged over, become opaque, lost forever behind a jumble of words.

I knew, though, that that wasn’t the case. It was all still with me, but in those fleeting moments, it was hard to see this.

As soon as things died down, without stressing, without thinking too much about it, I dived back into the routine. It required a re-read of notes, a quick review of the chapters gone by and a little faith in myself, but the ball started to roll again, albeit slowly at first.

But I can feel the momentum coming back.

It never completely disappears - the spark, the drive, the ideas - but left alone for a while, it can become malnourished and lethargic. But it never dies and its recovery period is very short. Before you know it, not only will the momentum return, you may find yourself struggling to keep up.

It's Raining Words

2007-08-16T13:07:00.000+01:00

Since Harrogate, things have been going full steam ahead on the novel front. After my one on one sesh with Greg Mosse, I fiddled (stop laughing, you in the back there) with the plot and made the opening a little more dramatic. I then decided to hell with procrastination, I'm starting!

Since then, not too many weeks ago, I have almost written 100 pages. Not to say that the words are flying off the tips of my fingers with the utmost of ease; far from it. Some days writing feels like trying to grapple for the end of a strand of hair caught in the bath plug hole - quite difficult and gooey. Other days it just rains words, hallelujah, it's raining words.

Overall, though, the experience thus far has been good. Most of the time I feel like I am writing absolute bollocks, but there are days when I finish by 2 hour stint in the morning feeling pretty chippa about what I've put on the page. And the bits and pieces of the plot are fitting in nicely.

At this stage, the process of creating this novel involves me getting up at 6am every weekday and committing to 2 hours of non-stop writing (except for eating breaks and the breaks that involve the other end). I'm writing to a plot but only as a guide. Many changes have already been made, but none deviate too far away from the original idea. Weekends I try for 5 hours in total, bringing the weekly slog to 15 hours. I did that for the first time last week - hoorah!

As you can see on the left hand side, I've included a little page counter, indicating how many pages I have produced for my first draft so far. It's ticking away quite nicely, almost reaching 100, which is a great personal achievement, especially for someone who has spent a year thinking about writing a novel and who thought that actually sitting down and doing it may never happen (yep, those tyres seem to be at the right pressure).

As I reach 100 pages tomorrow, I will stand and raise my bat to the generous crowd who are on their feet, giving me a warm round of applause. I will then mark out my crease, take centre, scan the field and face the next ball.

Long way to go yet but at least I am enjoying it!!

Harrogate Crime Writing Festival - Day 5 - Sunday: The End

2007-07-30T18:09:00.000+01:00

All good things must come to an end. It all seemed to go so quick – indicative of the jam packed schedule and the whirlwind ride that is the Harrogate Crime Writing Festival (okay, its official title has Theakstons in there somewhere too).

There were two events left and The Jingo and I attended them with a mixture of excitement and dread. We did not want this weekend to end, yet we were very keen to see what the Festival could muster up on its final day.

First, we had the very entertaining panel discussion about “What Really Gets Me Going” with the brains trust of the festival – Mark Billingham, Val McDermid and Natasha Cooper. Joining them was the very funny Christopher Brookmyre. The panel bantered on about the aspects of writing and reading crime novels that cheeses them off. They also managed to throw in a few jabs at agents, publishers and readers; all tongue in cheek and all very amusing.

After the usual half hour break, where I had three more books signed by the authors, we were into the last session (awwwwww!): an interview with Harlan Coben held by Laura Lippman. It was very interesting and entertaining - Mr Coben is a very amusing guy. The session also gave me more encouragement to get on with writing my novel. The one consistent thing that every author has said during this Festival when giving advice to budding writers has been: get on with it. Take a leap of faith and go for it! Good advice indeed.

The Festival finished with a thank you from Natasha Cooper and a round of applause in her direction for her organisation of the event. Praise was also given to the Festival organisation team who had been toiling away in the lead up to and during this big weekend.

Harlan Coben shook my hand and signed my book and then I was off! We had a rendezvous with Betty's tea rooms. It was definitely worth the twenty minute wait: chicken club sandwich for me, marinated Yorkshire lamb for The Jingo, followed by scones and tea and a lovely brown bread sundae with crushed almond macaroons and pecans. Ooh yeah.

We returned to the Crown Hotel for our bags and said our goodbyes to all that remained. The hotel was eerily quiet, although there were a few people still wandering around, trying to delay the inevitable end of the Festival and the depressing return to reality.

We caught an overcrowded train back to London with Sarah. The trip back drained the life out of us and we all started to feel the effects of the weekend, the excitement of the Harrogate Festival no longer keeping us awake. We ended up having to share floor space near a toilet that wouldn’t flush. A teenager walked around the carriage with toilet paper stuck to his foot after hiding from the ticket inspector in the men's – this kept us amused for a good part of the journey.

Finally, the train pulled into London. The Jingo and I said our goodbyes to Sarah and then headed home, tired, weighed down by books, hungry and thirsty, but with the sights and sounds of the Festival still dancing around in our heads.

Once again, it was a memorable and inspiring event.

See you next year, Harrogate!

Harrogate Crime Writing Festival - Day 4 - Saturday : It's Veally Good

2007-07-26T13:32:00.000+01:00

I thought I would be nodding off this morning while watching the “Here Come The Cops” panel, but somehow I managed to keep my eyes open. Once again, a short night of sleep did not bode well for the day’s forthcoming schedule. The intriguing and amusing panel discussion about police procedurals with Alex Gray, Cath Staincliffe, Elena Forbes and Peter James helped keep the sleep fairies away, but I have a theory that there is something else keeping me going: the Festival itself. It’s full of discussions about every aspect of the crime novel told by those who write them and as I love crime fiction and want to be a crime writer, the Festival contains everything that I find interesting. And therefore I am wired, despite the high levels of sleep deprivation.

That said, a decision had to be made. The mind may be willing but the body may eventually throw up its arms and say “I’ve had enough!” So a sacrifice had to be made for some much needed sleep. “Getting It Right”, about ensuring that an historical novel is accurate, was the offering I gave up to the sleep gods. I apologise to all those involved for not attending, but it was the best sleep I had had in ages.

Aptly following my mid-morning snooze was a Q&A session entitled “Getting Vigorous”, chaired by the ever resourceful, imaginative and sometimes zany Stuart MacBride. Using PowerPoint to its full capabilities, Stuart constructed a magical hour filled with questions and discussions about strange facts (such as the best way to dispose of a body and what human flesh tastes like) with the lovely C.J.Carver, the laid back Simon Kernick, the terrifying Zoe Sharp and the terrified Michael Marshall. It was a barrel of laughs.

The rest of the day was filled with more wonderful sessions, including a discussion about examining a crime scene by Helen and Ian Pepper, the former a registered forensic practitioner and the latter an ex-crime scene investigator, and a panel concentrating on the modern day spy thriller, including contributions by one real ex-spy (I won’t tell you his name – sworn to secrecy – these aren’t the droids you’re looking for).

The first (and hopefully only) setback for the Festival was the non-appearance of a big ticket item – Frederick Forsyth. The floods rampaging through Northern England had trapped him at his home, so he was unable to attend. Thankfully, the brains trust came up with something equally entertaining – a debate over whose crime fiction is better – the US or the UK. It was hilarious – Val McDermid and Mark Billingham fought for the UK, Lee Child and Harlan Coben sauntered along for the US. It was a close call in the end, but Mark Lawson declared the UK victors to the sound of cheers and gnashing of teeth.

Rounding off the night was the annual Quiz night. Quiz nights can frequently turn out to be a dog’s breakfast and this one came close to it. The only saving graces were the involvement of all the authors at the Festival, the entertaining duo of Simon Kernick and Natasha Cooper conducting the quiz, and the BTZers table, where I sat. In addition to those BTZers I had already met, there was Kevin, Jane, Jo and Mr K, Helena and Mr H, Derrin, Gungho and Smudge. It was great fun – very loud, lots of laughs, lots of conversations, one person in particular taking the opportunity to get things off her chest, and Mark Billingham being hauled to the back of the room for a photo opp with the Billingham Babes, who were decked out in their fabulously produced T-shirts. Fun had by all. I even managed to get two quiz questions right – who would’ve thought my purchase of The Thing soundtrack many years ago would have paid off.

The quiz finished and drinks moved into the now familiar Crown Hotel bar. There had been a wedding reception held in the hotel today (how they managed to double book has me beat) but they had moved on, so we had the bar to ourselves. My fuel tank was low, so after a few bevies and at the stroke of 2, I said goodnight to the remaining BTZers and authors and hello to the sweet, sweet sleep fairies.

One more day to go!

P.S. To the man who I had many discussions with about Theakston’s beer and the portability of a half dozen free bottles – I apologise that I have forgotten your name – but kudos to you – I hope you clinked your way back home safely.

P.P.S Update: I've been informed that his name is Dean! Hope to catch up with you next year, Dean.

Harrogate Crime Writing Festival - Day 3 - Friday : Obi Wan at Harrogate

2007-07-25T13:44:00.000+01:00

Five hours sleep is not enough. This morning my heard hurt, my throat was parched and my eyes were bugging out of their sockets. I didn’t want to get up, not even for breakfast. But then something moved inside me, something kicked me out of bed and sent me to the showers – it was Val McDermid. She was on at 9am. The Festival was about to begin.

The Jingo and I hurried through breakfast, worried that we were going to miss the start. Then we spotted Val, sitting down at her table, eating cereal, taking her time. We relaxed then; as long as Val was still at breakfast, we wouldn’t miss anything.

Val McDermid’s interview was one of the highlights of the day – she is a very funny person and has many great tales to tell. She spoke about her new book, Beneath the Bleeding, and the new series of Wire In The Blood, based on her Tony Hill series. It was all very interesting.

As were most of the sessions today. The format of the Festival contains hourly panel discussions or interviews with half hour breaks in between. This is a great way of doing it – you never miss anything and you always have time to stretch your legs, have a bite to eat or get your favourite authors to sign your books. It also gave us a chance to catch up with the BTZers and see what they thought of each session.

The day was jam packed: Val McDermid’s interview was followed by a panel discussion about crime novels set in the countryside, an introduction to four “new” authors, an hilarious hour on class in crime fiction (upper class David Roberts against the rest of the world), a discussion about the psychology of violent crime and a special hour celebrating the works of Daphne Du Maurier.

Throughout the day, I bought the books of New Blood authors, Nick Stone, Tom Cain, Caro Ramsey and Nicola Monaghan (for The Jingo) as well as ex-head of Florence flying squad, Michele Giuttari, who has the kindest face for someone who must have seen the aftermath of the most heinous crimes. All of these authors kindly signed my copies too.

The Jingo and I had dinner at one of Harrogate’s many fine seafood restaurants and then it was a mad rush to see the sold out appearance of Lee Child. He was magnificent to watch – a very serious man with a dry sense of humour who had plenty of stories to tell. It was a great session.

Following that was a regular feature of the Festival – the Foul Play performance hosted by Simon Brett – a whodunit acted out by Mark Billingham and Stella Duffy with Stuart MacBride and Laura Lippman trying to solve the crime. It was a barrel of laughs – especially when Mark’s impersonation of Alec Guinness included the line: “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.” I pissed myself laughing, although no one else near me got the reference.

After Foul Play concluded, we were off to the bar. I mingled once again with the BTZers, enjoying a few drinks here and there and catching the occasional author for a quick chat. I spoke to James Twining about Asian action flicks and restoring old cinema houses and listened with great interest as Nick Stone recounted his run in with a dodgy fella earlier in the day, who had a quite relaxed stance about profiting from other people’s hard work with the use of EBay. Stuart MacBride’s agent did a monkey dance and a Scandinavian tried to dry hump every woman in the bar. Sheila Quigley was in pain from a swollen finger and had to be whisked away to the hospital for painkillers. I spoke to Simon Kernick, Kevin Wignall and John Rickards but the conversations were far too fleeting. The need for sleep took hold, dragging me kicking and screaming to bed. I will hopefully catch them tomorrow night.

In between all this, during the afternoon, I managed to squeeze in my one-on-one session with Greg Mosse to talk about the treatment to my novel. This was the moment I had been waiting for for some time and I was a little nervous. I met him in a hotel room across from The Crown and we spoke for 20 minutes about my novel. He was very easy to talk to and quite encouraging. In summary, he was very excited about my novel’s potential, although he said that I had taken on something that would be difficult to pull off even for an established writer. Not like me to complicate things. Greg also gave me sound advice which I will take on quite happily.

This was a milestone moment – now I can crack on with it!!

Harrogate Crime Writing Festival - Day 2 - Creative Thursday

2007-07-24T13:58:00.000+01:00

Excitement kicked in as I walked down to the breakfast room. The sleep last night wasn’t the best – someone above me thought it was a good idea to do little laps around their room at 4 in the morning, every step creating a god awful creak from the old floorboards. Despite that, I was pretty wired.

I scanned the breakfast area looking for either authors I would be able to recognise or Mark Billingham forum members (BTZers) who I knew were here and vaguely knew what they looked like. I didn’t have much success on either front, although I did see the lovely Ann Cleeves lining up for a sausage and/or grilled mushrooms.

Today is the first day of the Festival. As is the tradition, this day is reserved for The Creative Thursday workshop: a run through the main aspects of writing presented by those in the know. We started off with an introduction by the Programming Chair of the Festival, Natasha Cooper. A different author chairs the Festival every year and Natasha has organised a very good line up this year.

Following Natasha Cooper was Simon Kernick. His hour and a half allotment was spent talking about Plot. It was a very funny session with loads of anecdotes and jokes but plenty of good stuff for any budding writer to go away with and think about.

Setting with Greg Mosse followed soon after – a more structured session talking about setting and how it can be used to propel a story along and the dos and don’ts when describing your location. Greg is a teacher in his own right as well as an author and his hour or so session gave me a glimpse at how beneficial my one on one session with him tomorrow will be.

Laura Wilson talked about Inventing People, including how to come up with character names (my pet hate / struggle), Natasha Cooper returned with advice on how to sit down and just write your novel and Jane Gregory and Hilary Hale rounded off the day with sound advice from the agent’s and publisher’s perspective. They were encouraging, although the statistics telling us how many people actually get published each year were quite depressing.

The Creative Thursday was great – I really enjoyed it – lots of good advice and encouragement. Throughout it all, I was keeping my eye out for Sarah. She is a fellow BTZer and writer (and artist) and I knew she was in the workshop. I did spot her but at the time, I wasn’t 100% sure – but with the help of Natasha Cooper, Sarah’s identity was confirmed and we introduced ourselves. It was like we had known each other for years – clichéd I know, but, as with all the other BTZers I met today, it was true.

The Jingo arrived from London and straight away we joined the crowds for the first event – the announcement of the winner of the Theakston's Old Peculier Crime Novel of the Year. The winner was Allan Guthrie. The look on his face when he accepted the coveted Theakston’s barrel and generous cheque told it all – he hadn’t expected to win. It was a special moment - not a dry eye in the house! The fact that this award is voted by the readers made the win even more rewarding. I don’t think Allan let go of that barrel for the remainder of the night – he may have even slept with it – I know I would have!

Next was the Festival Opening Party which was reasonably low key – free wine and Theakston’s beer for all. The Jingo and I spoke with William, a 17 year old who has written three novels already and was scoping the crowd for agents and publishers. He had the determination and drive to become an author that I wish I had had at his age. He even had business cards printed off. Look out for him in the future.

We rubbed shoulders with the elite, spotting faces in the crowds, whispering names to each other – “Isn’t that so and so?” “There’s Mr whathisname.” – unashamed in our fan boy frenzy. Then we met more BTZers – Betty, Tzara, Chelbel and Ravenscross – all great people who I hope to catch up with again during the festival.

After the final event of the day finished, it was off to the bar where fans, authors, publishers, agents and the occasional sleazy playboy mingle and dross about anything and everything. I spent most of the time talking to the BTZers – catching up, giving each other encouragement with our own writing, talking about any conversations we may have had with the big names of the Festival. It was a grand night, tapering off into the early hours where only a handful of people, mainly authors, remained. I was so tired, I was in danger of slipping into a coma, so I decided it was time to head off. I would have liked to have talked to more authors but my bed was calling me and there is plenty of time left in this Festival to chat with these accessible, generous and good natured people.

Harrogate Crime Writing Festival - Day 1 - Wednesday : Chorizos and Melted Cheese

2007-07-23T13:50:00.001+01:00

When I walked into the lobby of The Crown Hotel this afternoon, I was struck with a sense of anticipation. The place was quiet: one or two drinkers at the bar, a white haired old couple pulling luggage up a corridor, a smiling lady behind the reception counter. But in less than 24 hours, the place would be swarming with authors, agents, publishers and fans of the crime writing genre.

As I made my way up to the counter, struggling with a large backpack and my computer bag, a few guests passed by, looking at me with restrained curiosity. I thought to myself, hmmm, maybe they think I am an author, arriving for the Theakston’s Crime Writing Festival. It felt pretty good and I milked it for what it was worth (stopping short of soliciting requests for autographs).

My façade dropped, however, as I searched, with similar excitement, the faces of other patrons of the hotel, hoping to recognise a genuine crime writer. Alas, there were none; but I was patient: tomorrow would bring forth a plethora of authors for me to see and chat with.

It’s hard not to have dreams of discovery when attending the Harrogate festival. It's a major crime writing festival, the best going around, and it attracts everyone from the industry. As a budding writer working on his first novel, I would be lying if I didn’t fantasise about wooing authors and agents alike with my witty banter, charming personality and ultimately, excellent, heart stopping, ground breaking prose. But I made a pact with myself – this Festival was about learning from those in the industry, through panels, interviews and the occasional chat at the bar. But it was also about making new friends and having fun.

The Jingo is arriving tomorrow so I went Han Solo for dinner to a nice Mexican restaurant at the end of Station street; had a nachos with chorizo. Probably a bad move as the stomach feels a bit unsettled. Probably just nerves (and the diarrhoea is probably just due to my healthy fruit rich diet). I walked around town afterwards, admiring the city of Harrogate. The buildings look amazing here and the gardens are beautiful – a nice relaxing place with loads of restaurants and nightlife too. I checked out the restaurants in the area, picking out a few for when Jingo arrives. Betty’s tea room is one we will definitely not miss.

The sunny afternoon moved on into a cool evening and I decided to retire to my room. The room is nice, nothing too flash but has all the necessary amenities. The bed is pretty small for two people and the floorboards creak, but otherwise, it’s suitable. I set up the computer but instead of writing, I decided to watch a couple of DVDs – Homicide: Life on the Street, just to get me in the mood for tomorrow.

Not that I need any help with that.

Harrogate Crime Writing Festival - Preview

2007-07-18T11:09:00.000+01:00

As I write this, I am 15 minutes away from catching the tube to Kings Cross station where I will hop on an overland to Harrogate. It's hard to believe a year has gone by but its that time again - time for the Harrogate Crime Writing Festival.

When The Jingo and I went to the festival last year, we didn't know what to expect. What we got was two full days of seminars, interviews and discussions with some of the UK's leading crime writers including Ian Rankin, Mark Billingham and John Harvey. This year, we are going for the full festival and there are just as many, if not more, big names to entertain us.

I am travelling there today in preparation for tomorrow's Creative Thursday - a full day of tutorials covering such topics as Plot, Setting, Inventing People, Writing and Selling - a kind of prelude to the actual festival. The tutorials are presented by big names in the industry including Simon Kernick, Natasha Cooper and Greg Mosse. I am really looking forward to this day, especially given I have started my novel and any extra help is well received. I think the highlight will be listening to real publishers and editors speak about how to sell your work.

The Jingo arrives on Thursday evening, just in time for the Theakston's Old Peculier Crime Novel of the Year presentation and the Festival's Opening Party. A few beverages will be consumed, no doubt.

The next three days after that are filled with interviews and discussions covering all aspects of crime writing, held and participated by the big names in the industry, including Stuart MacBride, Val McDermid, Lee Child, Frederick Forsyth, Harlan Coben and lots, lots more. The ever approachable Mark Billingham will be there, as well as the Festival Programming Chair, the lovely Natasha Cooper. Many, many stories to be told and talked about over four magnificent days.

During the hectic schedule, I will also be having my 20 minute one-on-one session with Greg Mosse, discussing my treatment and my novel. Something I am really looking forward to.

Harrogate also has lots to offer in terms of food - The Jingo and I will definitely be partaking of the local delicacies - especially tea at Betty's!

I will be offline over the Festival, but look out for my day by day summaries that I will prepare on location and post retrospectively here.

For those who will be there, I look forward to meeting you "off-line" for the first time, knocking back a few beers and talking about all things criminal.

This is the highlight of my year and I can't wait to get there!

The Day Has Come

2007-07-10T21:20:00.000+01:00

Status on day 106: countless hours of researching, plotting and procrastinating under the belt; a 3,000 word treatment sent off to a professional writer for review, ahead of a one-on-one session at Harrogate; and a working title that will do for now.

Day 107: it started like any other weekday. My alarm went off at 6 a.m. and it took me fifteen minutes of groaning and swearing before I got up. Once up, I showered, shaved and had some breakfast. Powered up the computer and sat at my desk.

And began.

First, I opened Word and created a master document. Then I created another file, a template file. I then saved this template file as another document, entitled “One”.

I opened “One”, looked at the blank page before me, took a deep breath and began typing.

It had been a long time coming. It had been over five years since I started my writing course by correspondence, learning the skills of writing. During that period - writing articles for magazines I didn’t even subscribe to, trying to cram short stories into imposed word count restrictions for competitions, walking through bookstores and jealously scanning all the published authors on the shelves – through all that, I had been waiting for this day to come.

Day 107: the day I started writing my novel.

DAY: 107 PAGES: 4

Day 100

2007-06-29T17:56:00.000+01:00

It's hard to believe that I have worked on my novel for 100 days! Of course, that sounds longer than it actually is. I haven't worked 24,000 hours if that's what you are thinking.

A day represents any period of time, be it 30 minutes or four hours, in one particular day, spent on my book. I was going to add up all the hours but I couldn't be fagged at this stage - maybe I will post it later.

How has the experience been so far? It has had its ups and downs, depression and excitement. Overall, I feel like I am heading in the right direction and that, so far, it has been worth the effort. My only major gripe is, given that I have a full time job, progress is slow. I would probably average one hour a day of writing which isn't great. This is evidenced by the fact that it is Day 100 and I haven't even started on Chapter 1 yet!!!

There is definitely something to show for my 100 days of work though. I've researched and written copious notes. I've completed a detailed outline of the story. I have prepared character profiles. And I am a few hours off finishing my 3,000 word treatment, ready for submission to Greg Mosse for his thoughts and views.

So all in all, not a bad first 100 days. I've stuck with it; that's the main thing, and at the moment, I believe I have a pretty entertaining book in development.

Here's to the next 100 (chink, chink) - that's the sound of champagne glasses, if you were wondering.

Mr Mosse's Deadline

2007-06-21T17:05:00.001+01:00

DAY NINETY-FOUR

I haven’t even started writing my first novel yet and already I am at the mercy of an imposing deadline. Not self-imposed either; this is a fair dinkum submission deadline that could affect the outcome of my proposed writing career. Always the drama queen, aren’t I?

In July, The Jingo and I are heading to the Harrogate Crime Writing Festival in, well, Harrogate. Three days of fun filled seminars, interviews and drinking sessions with some of the best known UK crime writers as well as a few US authors thrown in for good luck. I’ll write up a prelude soon.

In addition, the organisers are putting on a full creative workshop day on the Thursday, which I have signed up for. It includes sessions on writing and publishing by those who know what they are talking about.

On top of all that, there were limited spaces available to have a free critique of continuous text or treatment/synopsis by the author and creative writing teacher, Greg Mosse (husband of Kate Mosse – no not that one, this one) and a one-on-one session with Mr Mosse for twenty minutes at the festival.

Well of course I fell over myself to sign up for this one! Great opportunity for a critique by an expert!

After much deliberation, I opted to submit a 3,000 word treatment for my first novel, instead of the first chapter. My theory was that feedback on my plot is more important than on my style (and my style will feed through the treatment anyway). Whether that theory is wrong or not, I’ve gone too far down the track to turn back now.

Deadline is 7th July – a week before Harrogate. I’m aiming to finish the week before the deadline, just in case things go teats up.

The good news is: I’ve finished the first draft of my treatment. It clocks in at 3,227 words and therefore a bit of culling is required. However, this is a far cry from the 5,885 words I was faced with at the start of the week. Subplots had to be solemnly removed; minor characters wiped off the face of the screen amidst much protestation, and the use of semi colons was stepped up a level; really cuts out the excess words; you know what I mean; I’m sure you do.

All in all, despite the fact that the plot looks nothing like what I started with, I’m happy with the first draft and I believe it will serve its purpose. I just need to do a bit more trimming, move a few things around and come up with some character names and it will be done.

Side note: Character names! The bane of my existence! Ideas are welcome.

What I want out of my session with Mr Mosse is his advice on whether my novel’s plot will work or not, whether it is exciting enough, whether it is saleable or whether it just sucks the root. Be it expressed with thumbs up or thumbs down (or even a slap to the face), his opinion will be quite invaluable. Better to find out how crap it really is now, then when I’m trying to flog off the finished product to a bunch of unforgiving agents.

Whatever comes out of the session and the creative writing day, I am going to take it all on board – its all going to help, no matter how harsh the criticism. Looking forward to it!

Well wish me luck; I’m off to eliminate 227 words off the face of this planet we call Earth.

Help me semi-colon, you’re my only hope.

Dat Library Thang

2007-05-25T14:29:00.000+01:00

You may have noticed an addition to the blog on the left hand side. It is a visual representation of the last five books that I have read; a more whizz bang version of my list that I included in a previous blog.

This list comes courtesy of the Library Thing website - a website that helps you catalogue the books that you own. Quite an ingenious thing, a nice central place to list the books in your extensive library.

I'm in the process of completing my list, but you can check it out as it currently stands by clicking on the "my library" link to the left.

On Assignment

2007-05-14T13:03:00.001+01:00

DAY SEVENTY ONE

The moment has arrived where I can finally get cracking on with writing my novel. Well almost.

Way back when I started planning and researching, I knew that one of my writing course assignments required a 750 word synopsis and four character profiles. I incorporated this assignment into my approach, hoping for expert advice and feedback from my tutor on the synopsis for my first novel. It was an opportunity not to be missed.

And now that time has come, and over the next few weeks, I will be focusing on that particular assignment.

I will be looking forward to reading any feedback my tutor will have on the synopsis, hoping that she will provide tips on improving the novel's content and give me a little more confidence in the story and my ability to write it.

It won't be my only chance to receive feedback mind you, I also have something else in the pipeline which will also definitely help me and which I am extremely excited about; more on that later.

Looking ahead, once my assignment is submitted, I will commence writing the FIRST CHAPTER! How exciting! It seems like it has been ages since the germ of an idea formed in my head for this novel (in fact, it was July last year!), so to finally be at the point of starting it, is both exciting and scary.

And things are always changing.

In a major revelation, I have decided that a detailed plot line / synopsis is required. Originally, if you recall, I was going for a hybrid of approaches: mapping out the majority of the plot but leaving enough holes (and in particular, one big chasm called The Ending) unfilled to keep the writing fresh and exciting for me.

But reading through my notes again, I happened across a bit of advice from George Pelecanos: "For your first novel, remove all obstacles". Not having any idea of the ending to my novel comes under "Obstacles" in my opinion, so I plan to deal with that. Of course, the ending can always change (like everything else) but I think it will be beneficial to have something in place, albeit temporary.

So, the end of the planning and researching is upon me; all that is left is two to three weeks worth of synopses and character development for my assignment.

Then on to Chapter One.

LAST WEEK

Read: Lazybones by Mark Billingham
Watched: Dead Man's Shoes by Shane Meadows
Heard: Black Holes and Revelations by Muse

Waiting for Something to Happen

2007-03-22T13:14:00.000Z

DAY FIFTY SEVEN

I can almost see them. I can certainly feel them.

Standing at their positions, waiting for their cue. Primed ready for action, anxious to be getting on with it.

They're talking amongst themselves, shuffling their feet and smoking cheap cigarettes. They are nervous and impatient despite the feeling that once it all kicks off, things are not going to go well for them. They are still keen to start. Whatever mayhem and destruction awaits them, it must be better than this, standing around, waiting. Or so they think.

They are the characters in my head, waiting for me to start my novel, waiting to explode into life and get things under way. They are impatient and are ready to kick my head in if I don't get on with it.

But, the research must continue . . .

Three Fillings and The Truth

2007-03-08T17:40:00.001Z

DAY FORTY SIX

Research continues at a steady pace. After studying two true crime books and getting a "feel" for my subject matter, I returned to revise one of my plot lines. This proved to be quite satisfying.

While reading the true crime books, I realised that my original plot contained a few errors and misconceptions. My preconceived notions of my subject matter were incorrect. This is why research is important. You may think you know what you are talking about but with a bit of research, you can prove yourself right. Or wrong as the case may be.

Finding out that some aspects of my plot were utter rubbish was not such a bad thing. In fact, incorporating my new found knowledge improved it ten fold; opened up new avenues, new storylines and created more beliveable characters.

Refining your fictional storyline with the aid of your research notes is excellent stuff - your novel starts to take shape, you start to believe in it a bit more, you start to see the characters, hear them talk, fall asleep with them running around in your head (well, I do anyway). The characters and the plot now seem more three dimensional because they have some basis in truth.

It's quite a refreshing experience.

After researching those two books, I returned to my A3 plot and revised it. This was very satisfying. In fact, as I reached the climax (in the plot), I became very excited (not in that way) about the development of my novel thus far. I couldn't wait to start writing.

I have one storyline roughly mapped out from start to finish, albeit with lots of questions to be answered, and I have done some research as noted above. But, no, not yet; I can't start yet. There are still some aspects of the novel that I am completely clueless about - more research needed.

Next on the research list: Location, location, location.

P.S. Saw Pan's Labyrinth (and The Devil's Backbone) last Sunday at the Riverside Studios double bill - excellent stuff - but that's all I'll say as this blog is turning into one steady stream of movie reviews.

P.P.S Had three fillings done today - mouth numb and jaw hurts. Three more next week!

Re: Search

2007-02-16T17:01:00.002Z

DAY TWENTY SEVEN

Over the last two weeks I've really knuckled down and put in some hours researching my novel. It's been quite interesting and not at all laborious thankfully, but it has raised a few questions.

For example: how much research should one do? when do you determine that you have researched enough in order to produce a realistic and reasonably accurate piece of writing? what do you put in? what do you leave out?

I am writing a work of fiction, but these days, readers demand a higher level of believability and accuracy from novels. In the modern day, the crime reading community have an increased knowledge about police procedurals, criminal activities and forensic science than ever before thanks to films, TV and literature. Therefore, even if you are writing fiction, there is a necessary amount of research to be done to satisfy hard core crime fiction fans and keep them reading your work. Added to that, I am sure it is every crime writer's dream to have someone in the know, be it a policeman, detective, or even a criminal, comment that the writer's novel is realistic and believable.

So how much is enough? To tell you the truth, I have no idea. Do too little and even if you have written a good story, it can be let down by errors and implausibilities that turn the reader off. However, do too much and you run the risk of spending too much time researching and not enough time writing. And there is also the risk of including information from your research that might not be relevant in order to justify the time (and money) spent. Information overload can also get up a reader's nose, especially if it fails to move the plot along.

So how much is enough? For me, I've decided that I will research as much as is necessary in order to give myself the confidence and the knowledge to write the story I want to write. And write a cracking good one too!

I also think that when I take off my writing hat and put on my reading cap, I will be able to identify those areas in my work that need further research to increase the believability factor or double check the detail. That's the theory anyway.

And I keep thinking back to what George Pelecanos said - for your first novel, remove all barriers. Make the first attempt as easy as you can. In terms of research, this means, in my opinion, to scale down the scope of your research; do enough to fill in those big holes in your knowledge; use it to refine your plot and character profiles and then get on with the writing.

In the end, you DO NOT want to use research as an excuse to delay sitting down in front of that blank page and starting your novel. And don't worry, I plan to practice what I preach.

A3 Plotting

2007-01-23T13:14:00.000Z

DAY NINE

The first draft of my novel's plot is complete. Well, not 100% complete - I don't actually know how it's going to end yet - but complete enough to begin some research.

Despite what Stephen King says about plotting (i.e. don't do it), I thought it was best for me to have a go at drafting up a plot. Being my first novel, I think I need at least a basic story blueprint laid out before me. I don't think I am at the stage where I can just take a concept and write down whatever comes to mind (although, that does sound appealing). I probably could, but it would be rubbish. So call me "Plot Boy". For now.

There are two extremes to plotting - the detailed method and the "back of a napkin" method. The former involves sitting down and mapping out every little event that occurs in the novel, every conversation, every disaster or tragedy, falling just short of writing out the prose. The latter is a scratchy, incomplete scribble that barely rises above an idea - maybe it just describes a situation - and you go from there and see where it takes you. They both have pros and cons - mainly being: the former gives you direction, while the latter is much more fun.

Bearing in mind that this is my first novel and that I want to inject some fun into the process, I decided to go for an in-between approach with slight leanings towards the detailed method.

I grabbed a blank page of A3 photocopy paper from work and got started, writing every weekday morning for a week and a bit. I decided to write down everything that came to mind, leaving out the detail, but making sure things made sense, fitted together and did not contradict. At least the same amount of ideas came out of my head during those eight days as compared to the previous eight months when the story was banging around in my head.

So after eight days: both sides of the A3 paper were filled with a general chronological plot and notes on motivations, side plots, questions to be answered, etc, etc. It's detailed, quite detailed, but there is also plenty of room left (in the plot, not on the page) to go off on a tangent if I so wish to. And there is the fact that the final fifth of the novel is nowhere to be seen. I'm leaving that until later. How much later will depend on how confident I become.

The whole experience was very satisfying and of course, fun. I recommend plotting on A3 paper, it helps capture the whole plot on one page - a kind of snapshot - that you can return to for adjustments or just to refresh your memory. I used little boxes - like a basic flow chart - to chart the progression of the story. Writing in pencil is obviously preferable as there will be plenty of changes to be made when better ideas form in your mind.

I suppose my original concern was that a detailed plot would soak up all the fun and excitement of writing the actual novel (hence where the napkin approach works better). However, after finishing my first draft, I can tell you that not only was the exercise exciting, a plot is such a dynamic thing that no one knows what will actually happen when I start typing away at Chapter One.

Now, I must change hats - Plot Boy becomes Research Boy (and I don't mean a lad from Victoria's north eastern suburbs).

And It Begins!!

2007-01-12T18:39:00.000Z

Ominously, I typed up this blog last Friday, but it would not "publish". Not that I'm superstitious or anything. (whimper)

DAY ONE

A momentous day like today deserves more blog time, but unfortunately I'm running late for some panto.

Today was momentous because today I began my novel. With teeth gritted and buttocks clenched, I arose from bed this morning as the alarm went off and without pause, discarded my misgivings and fears, and headed for my desk and computer.

There was no fanfare or cutting of the ribbon; I just sat down, turned my computer on and let the fingers do the talking.

I was pretty excited though.

First, I came up with a provisional title for my novel. Every novel should have a title from the very beginning - it gives it an identity. I mean, after all, this is my baby and you can't have a baby without naming it. I'll change its name by deed poll later on - the natural course in the life of a novel.

Next, I wrote up a very brief synopsis. This is handy so as to keep the "thrust" (panto style) of the novel in focus. Of course, this can change too, as the novel evolves.

I must say it was fun writing the synopsis: it was like drafting up the blurb that may appear on the final product – very exciting indeed.

So I’ve started; I’ve broken the seal. Now let the words come flooding out.

Oh, I suppose you would like to know what the provisional title of the novel is. Okay, fair enough. It’s – oh damn, look at the time – I’m late for panto!!!

(sniggers off into the distance).

Yesterday: Sick; Today: Scared

2007-01-11T12:58:00.000Z

I'm back! Did you miss me? No? Fine, don't worry about it then.

Nevertheless, I'm back from a one-day forced sickie (and yes, I was sick). A bout of the local flu had me in all sorts on Tuesday and yesterday, I woke feeling horrid. So I stayed home and didn't get up to much at all. Except a bit of thinking.

This morning, the alarm went off at 6.30. It was time to get back into my (ir)regular writing routine. And this morning, it was time to do that one thing I've been wanting to start for over two years. Yes! My novel!!

But I didn't get up. Yes, I still wasn't 100% healthy and yes, I was more than a little bit tired and yes, the bed was sooo warm and toasty. But there was also a part of me that didn't get up because I was just a little bit scared.

This confirmed my thinking from the previous day. It had been in the afternoon. I was lying there on the couch with my runny nose, sore throat and head full of phlegm and I was thinking about my novel. As mentioned above, I have made the decision to start my first novel ASAP. My rationale is that I would like to be published in the U.K. and I'm not sure how much longer we will be staying here.

So, I thought to myself, I better get cracking! To hell with the preamble and preparation and all that rubbish; let's get started!

Then I thought - what I will do first is re-read Stephen King's On Writing and my course notes on novel writing and make a few more notes, some kind of guidance or crib sheets to keep me on track.

And then it hit me: I was dancing around my handbag. I was procrastinating. I was delaying that moment when I would have to sit down and start the novel.

Because I am scared.

The same thing happened this morning. I planned to get up and get started, but part of me was frightened.

Frightened that I won't know where to start. Frightened that I won't be able to write a single coherent word. Frightened that my novel is going to be rubbish. Frightened that it will become all too clear that I can't cut the mustard when it comes to writing novels. Frightened that I will be forced to live out my days as a lowly accountant.

Frightened of failure when it all boils down to it.

I know the remedy for this "Novelophobia" is to just get on with it and start writing (tonight, damn you!) but it's making me very anxious indeed.

Obviously all authors go through it, either on their first novel, their second (due to the expectation attached to it) or every novel they write. But that doesn't make me feel better.

How do I overcome it?!

One idea is to just have fun with it. One of things that I wanted to ensure when writing this novel is to enjoy it; enjoy the process of writing. If I don't have at least some fun writing a novel then, well, it ain't worth it.

So, maybe, that's where I should start - drop the pressure, discard all the self imposed rules and just enjoy it. That should be easy, as I am such a carefree, easy going kinda guy whose troubles are like water off a duck's back. Yeah, just have fun with it. No need to be scared at all.

Not . . . scared . . . at . . . all.

(cough)

Mummy!!! I want my mummy!!!

Doing a Lionel

2006-12-14T18:24:00.000Z

This week has been a bit of a write off (pun intended). Getting up in the morning to do my daily slog has been an impossible task.

The alarm goes off at 630am and it wakes me up (which is an unusual occurrence to say the least - it usually means I'm really tired). But I don't get up. I roll over, turning my back, ignoring the incessant beeping. Or I reach over and the turn the damn thing off.

Half an hour later, The Jingo's moby starts dancing its little dance to its little tune and I want to wring its little neck. Jingo checks her messages and rolls over, back to sleep. I roll over too.

By eight, I've checked my watch enough times to realise its time to get up and I slowly rise from my bed. At this stage, it's quite obvious that there will be no writing this morning; in fact, I better get my arse into gear or I'll miss work!

All because I did a Lionel.

By the time I struggle through the working day, fighting to keep my eyes open as I slave away in front of a life draining spreadsheet, I am dead to the world. As I walk through my front door, it all hits me, and I'm good for nothing more than EA Cricket and NYPD Blue.

All because I did a Lionel in Norfolk last weekend.

Last Saturday night: over a half a litre of Jim Beam in my guts, its affects swimming in my head; a murder mystery solved and a Jenga set toppled; a full list of Ipod tunes delved through and played until the cows came home (and a bunch of angry cows they were too - "Shouldn't you be in bed?! Why are you playing S Club 7? Are you mad?!!!), all topped off with a very early morning clean up (around a very still Pablo - I think he was playing Statues) and three pints of water.

Starting time: 730pm. Finishing time: 830am.

Yep, I did a Lionel.

Norwich Naughtiness

2006-12-07T17:42:00.000Z

Tonight I will be finalising Assignment Number 12 (hurrah!) for submission to Writing Course Anonymous. When I start my next assignment, Number 13, I would have already planned and researched (and maybe even started) my first novel. How exciting is that?!

Yes, the next assignment deals with character profiles - so the characters in my novel will form my submission - my attempt at intertwining my writing commitments. In tandem with these profiles, I will be planning out what is going to happen to these poor sods and research like a demon to make it all sound and feel authentico.

But before that, I've got many books to read and three pieces to write (two short stories and one article); as well as finish off my current shorty, which has recently been causing me grief.

So, still a little way to go before I can put pen to paper on the Big One, the main event, the big kahuna - i.e. THE NOVEL, dum dum daaahhh.

In related news, I'm off to Norwich this Friday (for a big birthday bash for Griggs; Paul Griggs). Joining me on the ever reliable UK train system will be The Jingo and Assignment 12. We've booked a seat by the window for AT (as I like to call him); he likes watching the cows scatter in fright, their udders swinging widly from side to side, as fifteen carriages of metal go hurtling by, inches from their little grassy abodes. However, the purpose of bringing him along is not for him to watch the scenery, but so that The Jingo (my in-house editor and all round nice gal) will be checking to make sure he's up to scratch and fit for submission to The WCA (no, not the Women's Cricket Association - but the Writing Course Anonymous).

The Jingo has been impressed by my last two efforts into the world of literary dribble, so here's hoping for a hattrick.

And then, its off to Norwich for drugs, sex and rude cupcakes.

Confident Writing

2006-12-06T20:06:00.000Z

I've experienced a strange up and down journey with my confidence as a writer this week. I've been working on a short story which I plan to submit to Shots Magazine - an online e-magazine.

It was in a flurry of creativity that I churned out this 3,000 word story a few weekends back; finished the first draft in just over 2 hours. At the time, I thought it was a well written piece, beautifully paced and not a bad little tale.

Now, it's giving me the irits. I sat down this week to do my first rewrite, give it a few tweaks here and there, correct a few spelling errors; nothing major.

Instead, I've given it a complete overhaul and I'm not happy with it. Maybe it was the care free approach I took when I did my first draft that gave me that air of confidence. For once, what I had in my head translated perfectly onto the page. Of course, that was before I re-read it.

Now I start my evenings (because my writing has recently been delegated to the dark pit of after work hours) working on draft 2 and by the end of the 90 minute session, I have the confidence of an English batsmen facing a fired up leg spinner on a day 5 pitch with massive footmarks outside his leg stump.

Funny thing is, this plummet in confidence used to depress me for ages and I would take forever to get "back on my feet"; get back to the writing. These last few mornings (after my writing session from hell), however, I've felt chippa; I've fired myself up, telling myself I can do better, that my dreams of becoming a writer are not just a large pile of steaming poo ready to be shoveled into the garden. This can only be a good thing.

However, I'm still on this emotional rollercoaster ride - and it's only a bloody short story! Does not bode well for a 100k word novel, now does it?

Oh well, I must press on. It's late and I plan to forgo any writing tonight and get back into the morning routine - by all accounts I should be as positive and self-believing as Mr Cricket on a flat pitch.

Call me: Mr Writer.

A Summary, A Status Update and A Justification

2006-11-30T13:02:00.000Z

To summarise:

I want to be a published author. To achieve this, I need to write a novel worth publishing. To do this, I need to gain a bit of skill, practice and confidence to start and complete my first draft.

So, in an attempt to reach this first milestone, I've devised the following goals (which I have explained in painstaking detail in previous rants):

Goal 1 = 14 hours of committed writing a week.
Goal 2 = complete essential reading to improve level of skills and knowledge.
Goal 3 = complete Course modules relating to novel writing, incorporating my novel into the assignments.
Goal 4 = read as much as possible, both in fiction and non-fiction, across different genres. Read, read, read!!!

End result = best first draft anyone has ever written!

Of course, writing a first draft requires a lot more than what has been listed above (e.g. plotting, character development, research) but I see them as steps rather than goals.

In terms of when I can start my novel, I have decided that I must complete Goal 2 and that I also must be up to the relevant stage in Goal 3.

Status (in brief):

Goal 1 = pretty dismal so far: 9.5 hours, 40 minutes and four hours thus far. If I can consistently do 10 hours a week, I'd be happy. 14 hours is the ultimate, but 10 will suffice (compromising my goals already, yeah?)

Goal 2 = Stephen King's On Writing is read (no notes taken yet) and I have started Howdunnit: currently reading about a day in the life of a cop.

Goal 3 = Ah yes, the Course. Well, I must admit that I am going pretty well. I have finished the first draft of Assignment No. 12 (dealing with dialogue and atmosphere) and I'm pretty happy with it. In fact, I have churned through this assignment quicker than any other and I think its my best work on the Course. Yay! Next up, I will have to submit three short stories and one article to the "real world" and then I will be ready to go on to the next Assignment (and start my novel!!!)

Goal 4 = an easy one. Finished Peter Temple's The Broken Shore and am a third of the way through Stuart MacBride's Cold Granite. Reading like my life depended on it.

Well, now, enthralled reader, you are probably sitting there thinking, what's all this goal stuff, why have I overcomplicated it so, why can't I just sit down, shut up and write the damn novel. If you are thinking that, well, that's not very nice, is it? But I will address it (and here comes the justification part of this blog), I need to structure my approach in this way because all other attempts over the past four years have fallen flat on their faces. I've lost confidence, I've lost interest, the dreaded Course has gotten in the way and I've lost focus. Hopefully, if I apply my goals, at least for this first novel, I will be so well prepared that I will achieve that ultimate dream - a completed novel.

And it's my life, so back off! (cough) sorry.

Anyway, better get back to it; start cracking!

Sorry, did someone say, 2nd Test at Adelaide?

Read, Read, Read (or Setting Goals - Part 4)

2006-11-29T12:59:00.000Z

Last week, I finished reading Stephen King's On Writing (see Goal 2). It's a good book, especially when he finishes drossing on about his childhood and gets into the nitty gritty about writing novels. I found many words of advice and encouragement within the 200 odd pages. They were all very refreshing and encouraging.

Some statements conflict with my course, which was interesting. For example, my writing course spends time on the importance of plotting a novel. King has thoughts on this, paraphrased slightly: "Plot is the last resort for a great writer and the first for a dullard." I enjoyed this comment and I will talk about it a bit more when I hit the planning stage of my novel. (Just to caveat King's comment; he also says, "Plot is not important, but story is.")

I'm slightly off the topic here, though. Another beauty from the words of The King is the following paraphrased statement (I'll give it it's own line here):

"Read lots and lots. Do not expect to become a good writer, if you are not, first and foremost, a prolific reader."

Reading helps the writer identify what works and more importantly, what doesn't. Style, method and description skills can be learnt and refined through reading. Always good for determining what's hot at the moment too and what's been done before. A writer can learn a lot from reading - which is a good thing - I love reading!

So:

Goal 4 : Read as much as possible, both in fiction and non-fiction, across different genres. Read, read, read!!!

A Course Is A Course Of Course, Of Course (or Setting Goals - Part 3)

2006-11-28T13:04:00.000Z

Last week was a bit of a write off. I had a great time, watching the Aussies whip the Poms, had a few drinks out, had diarrhea - yep, it was a fun filled week. But zero writing was accomplished. And you may have noticed that my blog spoke of everything but writing.

So back on track.

Where I left you last, enthralled reader, was running through the goals that I have set. Goals that will form the foundation of my first attempt at writing a novel. So far, I have covered two of those goals.

I feel that if I strive to achieve these goals, I will feel confident enough to start my novel and organised enough to follow it through to completion. Whether the novel will be any good or not will be all up to me old noggin and how wonderfully intelligent it is. At least if I achieve my set goals and maintain them, then I have given me noggin at least a fighting chance to produce something that will be worth publishing and not something that should be banished to the toilet for when we run out of bog roll. I plan to write on very absorbent paper if that is any indication of my current level of confidence!

Anyway, Goal Number 3 - The Course. I'm going to ramble on a bit now, so if you want to scroll to the bottom, (or skip this blog altogether) then that's fine. I know at least two or three people who have heard about this Course enough times to want to hit me over the head with a crowbar if I ever mention it again.

I am going to be as brief as possible on this topic, for my own sanity's sake amongst other things.

The Course I speak of is the Writers Anonymous Comprehensive Writing Course (not real name). It is a self-study scenario with tutors helping out by answering questions and marking assignments. There are about 30 odd modules, covering every aspect of writing - magazines, travel, novels, plays, radio - you name it, they cover it. Hence the "Comprehensive" tag.

Anyway, way back in 2002, I signed up for this course. I wanted to write a novel; be a published author, but I wasn't having much luck. I had no idea what it involved. So I signed up for the course, hoping for some guidance. As it is self-study, there are no deadlines; you can take as long as you like.

Fast forward to 2006 (because I'm bored with talking about this already) and I am still doing this course. It has been a hard slog. I haven't really enjoyed it and haven't been able to commit myself to it for long periods of time. The main problem has been my decision to begin the course with the non-fiction modules (e.g. writing articles, etc). For four years this bored me senseless. I had no interest in it, but my pride kept me from giving up.

I then decided to ask my tutor if I could skip ahead to the fiction modules and go back to non-fiction later. She agreed and my interest and output has definitely improved.

The last few modules have dealt with novel writing. Hooray!! This is what I have been waiting for for four years. The related assignments, which I will be starting soon, deal with all aspects of novel writing (e.g. character development, planning your plot); something that is very relevant to what I am currently trying to achieve.

So now we arrive at my third goal (in a very haphazard and indirect way) - Completing the novel modules of my course. If I can finish the novel modules and their related assignments, I will feel a little more confident in my ability to write a book. I would have learnt a few skills, a few tricks of the trade and had some practice. In addition, I want to incorporate my first novel into the upcoming assignments. This way, my tutor will be giving me a "free" critique of some of the preliminary aspects of my novel. To get an expert's opinion will be an opportunity too good to pass up; it should put me on the right track from the beginning.

Despite how painful it has been for me to do this course and how much I bag it, it is a good course. I have learnt a lot from it, and I believe my writing will improve because of it. I do feel I am much better off now than if I had not decided, in 2002, to sign up. Which is just as well, 'cause four years later, you can imagine how much I want to see the back of it!

So, to summarise that load of codswallop:

Goal 3: Complete Course modules relating to novel writing, incorporating my novel into the assignments.

I plan to put the rest of the course on hold until I finish this first novel. (I can't see the benefit of starting "How to write for radio" when I am halfway through a novel).

I suppose the big question will be, will I continue with the course once I have finished my novel. I'm not sure at this stage - the course has been good, but it has also been a double edged sword, taking up a lot of my writing time, making me feel guilty if I'm doing some other writing and stopping me from putting 100% of my time into the one thing I am dying to do - write a novel. Hence my plan to milk the course for all its worth, and potentially leave it aside like something that has been completely milked dry. Like a cow, I suppose. Or something like that.

Clocking Up The Hours

2006-11-25T15:16:00.000Z

So here I am, working feverishly away at my desk, putting in many hours on this quiet weekend.

But none of it has to do with my writing. Yes, this nice sunny Saturday is being spent at my desk at work, attempting to complete a set of accounts for the auditors who arrive on Monday.

How depressing.

However, I think if I did have a free day today, I would be spending it sleeping, not writing. After my marathon effort a few days ago, I still haven't caught up on my sleep and last night didn't help. Copious amounts of alcohol, a duck curry and a 2am finish. And I wasn't even watching the cricket. No, it was Pablo's birthday at The Churchill Arms in Notting Hill. Very good night indeed.

So this week has been a bit of a write off. I have only managed 40 minutes of writing. Piss poor. I do have tomorrow free, but tonight is Day 4 of the Test and yada, yada, yada.

Better get back to it. Although I ain't feeling the best. I just had a Big Tasty burger from Maccas and I feel ill. Rote-tin.

Sick

2006-11-21T13:00:00.000Z

Oooh the pain!

Yesterday was a struggle. My guts were feeling all heavy and sickly. I must have caught what The Jingo was throwing up on Saturday night. Or maybe it was the semi-defrosted hot dogs I had for Sunday lunch.

Either way, I was sick as a dog. There I was, trying to concerntrate on work, wearing my suit and big "Matrix" jacket, trying to keep warm. Instead, I kept shivering, shivering, shivering.

I had to cancel my dinner appointment with The Jingo's friends. Missed a trip out to Earlsfield for some Shepherd's Pie. Would've been nice but I'm sure I wouldn't have been able to keep it down.

As soon as I got home, I turned on the heater and jumped into bed. After a while, I started to feel feverish, my forehead burning, my head throbbing. Off went the heater and I sat up watching a couple of episodes of Homicide: Life on The Street.

The good news is that today, after a good night's sleep, I feel about 85% better. Which is great 'cause I have drinks tonight and The Ashes tomorrow.

The bad news - zero writing. However, I did hallucinate quite a bit last night, which was great for my ego. There I was, reading out the first chapter of my novel to the Creative Writing Class at Harrogate Crime Writing Festival. Val McDermind was so impressed, she organised various meetings with agents and publishers. I think at one stage I was even roped into being part of a writing panel.

Oooh, if only . . .

Working Nine Point Five, What A Way To Make A Living.

2006-11-20T13:29:00.000Z

Last week was the first week of my renewed commitment to writing a novel. My aim was to complete 14 hours of writing during that week (and every week from now on).

I managed 9.5. And I'm pretty happy with that. Obviously, I missed my mark, but the last few months I have struggled to make 10 hours; actually I have struggled to make 5! So 9.5 is great.

In addition, I was very happy with the quality. Especially on Sunday morning, while The Jingo was sleeping off some food poisoning (which I seem to have contracted today - hello, porcelain train!), I churned out a 2,400 word short story in 2 hours. Something I don't think I have ever done. A second draft will determine whether it's worth flogging off, but I think it will be.

This week, as I have already mentioned, is going to be a toughie. I might not make the heady heights of 9.5 hours. The Ashes are on and I have three other appointments that clash with study. Oh yeah, and I have the shits.

Does it sound like I'm already making excuses?

The Background (Or Setting Goals - Part 2)

2006-11-16T13:07:00.000Z

For me, writing a novel starts with believing you can.

Obviously there is always that doubting voice inside your head (I like to call him Warren) that questions your ability to do anything, but if you have a few skills and a general level of knowledge, you can always tell that voice, "Look, shut up will ya? I can do this, no wuckers!"

One aspect of this forms the part of Goal number deux: a little bit of background reading.

There are a number of books I would like to read and study before embarking on this wild ride called writing a novel. These books will help fill some of the dark spaces where my skills and knowledge should be. And we need to fill those if we ever want Warren to shut his trap.

The following books are on my reading agenda:

On Writing by Stephen King (an account of the life of a writer, what makes a good one and the necessary skills required) - I'm halfway through this one and I have already found some helpful and reassuring tips.
The Elements of Style by Strunk and White (a very concise publication about grammar, punctuation and style. A must for any writer).
Eats, Shoots and Leaves by Lynne Truss (about punctuation; not completely sold on this one but I'll give it a go).
Homicide: Life on the Killing Streets by David Simon (obviously not about punctuation, but a non-fiction account of a year with a Baltimore Homicide unit - good for police procedures, typical characters and interactions and a good read too!)
Howdunnit (How Crimes Are Committed and Solved) by John Boertlein (good background knowledge for my novel of choice - crime).
Forensic Science For Dummies (not sure of author - apologies) (background knowledge on the forensic science / csi side of things).

After reading these books and taking a few notes, I should have the necessary tools to tackle my first novel. And as a bonus, reading them will contribute to my 14 hours a week. So if I'm feeling tired, down or blue, I'll just pick up a book and read about shotgun wounds to the head to cheer me up.

To summarise: Goal 2 - complete essential reading to improve level of skills and knowledge.

Kick In The Guts

2006-11-15T13:27:00.000Z

It didn't take long for the wheels to fall off. I'd only just started (C-Day was only two days ago) and I've hit my first big hurdle.

As you recall, Goal 1 was to complete at least 14 hours of writing / writing related activities every week for at least the next three months. My plan was to meet this reasonably achievable target by doing 2 hours a day, first thing in the morning before coming into work. If I get up in time, I am almost 100% guaranteed not to have any disruptions or feel tired / depressed in any way during those 2 hours. If my calculator is working correctly, this equals effective and efficient writing.

To facilitate this, I asked my boss whether I could regularly start my working day at 9.30am. I was under the misunderstanding that our company's "core" hours every day were 9.30 to 4 and that this alteration in working times would be no problem at all, thank you very much.

Wrong answer, Sonny Jim. Core hours start at 9am, not 930am. So that blew a big hole in my carefully laid out plans. It means, unless I get up at the sound of little birdies flatulating, I can only do 90 minutes in the morning, leaving half an hour hanging over like a dry dag on a sheep's bum.

Do I get up earlier? Do I go to work earlier, leave earlier and do 2 hours each afternoon? Do I come in at 930am anyway?

These are the dilemmas in my life. Not exactly exciting stuff (I can't see any plot lines for the next 24 season anywhere around here), but stuff nonetheless.

What would Jack Bauer do?

P.S. Does anyone like this new font? It happened accidentally, but I like it. Small things . . .

The Hours (Or Setting Goals - Part 1)

2006-11-14T13:14:00.000Z

Last night I finalised my writing goals. These goals form the foundation, the support if you will, of my ultimate short term goal - finishing my first novel (sick of me saying that yet?).

Goal number one is "Commit to 14 hours of writing a week." This equates to 2 hours a day.

There are a number of reasons why I chose 14 hours. Firstly, given my work commitments and numerous household duties, 2 hours a day sounds about right. I've tried many variations on the theme of hours per week and have failed to maintain any of them. Funnily enough, all of those previous targets were less than 14 hours a week. I have adopted the "If you can't reach your goals, set them higher" school of thinking.

The other reason is: about 15 weeks ago, I set myself a goal of writing 310 hours over 31 weeks (roughly 10 hours a week - how about that, I didn't even need the calculator for that one; you see, I'm an accountant). Horrifically, I have only reduced that target down to about 280 hours with 16 weeks to go. Even though 14 hours a week wont get me there, it's a start. I feel pretty proud that I haven't altered this goal even though I have had holidays, slack weeks and injuries to curtail my success. Hooray for me.

Without going through the reasons in too much detail, I really struggle to write effectively after work. Therefore, I plan to try and knock off my 2 hours first thing in the morning. To facilitate this, I am about to approach my boss and see if he will let me start at 9.30am every morning, thus allowing me to squeeze in those 2 hours without having to get up at 5am to the tune of sparrows farting. Actually, sparrow fart is more like 7am in London at the moment, but the local sparrows are known to let a few early ones out now and then.

So to summarise: Goal 1 = 14 hours of committed writing a week.

BTW - only did half an hour this morning - lots of catch up weekend writing for this little black duck methinks.

No Alarms on C-Day

2006-11-13T19:54:00.000Z

My Polar watch let me down this morning.

It was C-Day today, the first day in my renewed commitment to complete my very first novel (and hopefully get it published).

The plan was to get up early and squeeze out an hour of writing before heading off to my Advanced Excel course in Holborn. Unfortunately, my Polar watch was off with the fairies (still recovering from its own jet lag presumably) and the carefully prepared alarm did not go off. So instead of waking at 7am, I awoke an hour later - not enough time to scratch myself let alone churn out some much needed writing.

I managed to salvage some of the day's writing however, by coming home early after my course finished (I now know how to do cell validation, macros and the like - yipee!) and sitting down to approx 1 hour and 15 minutes of intense literary perfection. 45 minutes short of my goal but not too bad.

Yes, my goal is to write 2 hours a day - but more on that tomorrow. I've just created a pivot table which informs me the chicken is being overcooked, so I better get naked and get cookin'.

Jet Lag Blogging

2006-11-12T18:40:00.000Z

Tired. So tired.

The Jingo and I flew in on the Red Eye this morning from New York City. Left The Big Apple at 6:55 pm, arrived in The Big Apple Core at 6:30 am with not one second of sleep. This is actually my second attempt at this blog, the first found me nodding off and drooling on the keyboard.

After a quick four hour sleep, I feel a bit better, but still tired. So tired.

So C-Day starts tomorrow and there wont be a bigger test of my commitment than attempting to wake up early with a severe bout of jet lag. On the plus side, I expertly scheduled an Advanced Excel course for my first day back at work - starts at 945, finishes at 5 - perfect. Should be able to squeeze in two hours in.

So we know what C-Day is about: my commitment to complete my first novel. But what does it entail? Over the next few days, I will be setting out the structure of this commitment, how I will go about fulfilling my goals, my planned writing schedule and an explanation about the double edged sword that's been hanging over my head these past four years.

I can't wait to get started. First thing on the list: sleep for 15 hours.

Goodnight.

C - Day

2006-10-31T13:23:00.001Z

The 13th of November, 2006, is C-Day.

C-Day is Commitment Day: the first day of my commitment to produce my very first novel. This is a commitment to myself (and to a lesser degree to my long suffering Jingo) to put in the necessary hours and work to take that first step towards my dream.

Everyone has dreams and a lot of those dreams are acheivable - it just takes commitment.

So C-Day is where I take the first step on the path to fulfililng my dream of becoming a full time author.

Why the 13th? I hear you ask enthusiastically. Well, between now and then I have a little run through a smallish city to attend to - yep, the New York Marathon. The last few weeks have seen zero output on the writing front, mainly because of this huge event. Very hard to focus on day to day writing when I know I will be running 42 clicks through an unknown city in a few days time. Very excited about it though! Can't wait (and I mean it)!

So the 13th, being my first day back at work after New York (New York), is C-Day, where it all begins.

Look out for it, celebrate it, enjoy it - but whatever you do, commit to it!! Hoo Haa!

Keane Inspiration

2006-10-29T19:07:00.000Z

I was going to moan about "concert etiquette" today.

Jingo and I were at the Alli Palli (being Alexandra Palace in Wood Green, North London) on Thursday night watching Keane. It was their first concert tour since the lead singer, Tom Chaplin, came out of rehab. Incidentally, their last concert before he went into rehab was the V Festival, which we also saw. We could tell the difference. At the V Festival, they were flat and uninspiring. Thursday night, they rocked!

We were at the back of the crowd and numerous people were quite content to ignore the music and have their own little, yet not quiet, conversations. Fair play when the music is up loud on songs like "Everybody's Changing" and "We Might As Well Be Strangers" but not on some of the slower melodies, thank you very much. At that moment, I thought to myself, I'm going to blog this tomorrow and rip them to shreds.

Then the band eased into "A Bad Dream" and I forgot all about the inconsiderate knobs next to me. This song is my favourite from Keane's two albums and I was instantly captivated by it and sang out the chorus at the top of my lungs (albeit it in a scratchy, off key, droning kind of way).

My debut novel, in all of its splendid incompleteness, is always lurking in the back of my mind. As "A Bad Dream" played out before me, a scene suddenly materialised in my mind. It was so vivid and seemed so right, that I will bet someone else's left testicle that it will make it into the book. If it all works out and I am able to successfully transpose my thoughts and feelings to paper, my protagonist (and hopefully the reader) is going to feel the same emotions that I felt when that song was being played.

If I can manage that, consider the CWA for best debut novel mine! How's that for optimism?!

As for the insensitive a-holes lacking "concert etiquette" - if you want to have a chat, pi55 off and go to a f**kin' coffee shop!!!