Not Beaten (not even whisked lightly until I form soft peaks...)

This week I rediscovered a hitherto uncelebrated character trait. I persevere. Which is not the same as saying “I plod” (…you plod, we plod, we are plodding…) no, I mean more that I don’t like to give up. I will try and try until I quite literally run out of steam and accept I have no alternative but to concede defeat. And that doesn’t happen very often.

In fact I can’t remember the last time I threw in the towel, unless you count the last time I dumped someone – for his own good, of course, he was always going to be far better off without me – his humourless, suffocating nature and bad dental hygiene had nothing to do with my decision – honest. (Perseverance has its limitations, obviously).

This week I refused to be beaten by the Gods of Technology. I mean, if something’s plugged in, has lights flickering and is making some kind of discernable noise, even if it IS tinny and whirry, then – call me Columbo – but this tells me the thing is ALIVE. Or, working at least.

Two people had a go and gave up, having tried everything they could think of as a solution to this particular technological conundrum… the scanner attached to my pc at work wasn’t playing ball… and so the thing was snorted at and the two men (MEN… underlined! – and one of these was the Head of ICT! I know, right? I can’t tell you who the other one was because it’s probably in my contract under Any Other Duties to have to shoot myself) walked away muttering incoherently about having to get somebody in to cover for a lesson so that he could go home and use his own machine there.

Now I don’t know what dumfounded looks like, but I kid you not, I actually had to sit down with my mouth open at the lack of gumption I’d just borne witness to as they slunk away muttering. For nearly 40 minutes, I’d watched them pressing buttons, scratching their chins – thank God, luckily ONLY their chins - clicking ‘back’ a million and one times, murmuring technical nonsensicals under their breath and then throwing in their towel of choice (probably Primark-peach, definitely not pure white Egyptian shag).
And I didn’t like it.
Not one little bit.
The fact they’d given up, I mean.
So I sat and played about a bit myself. Okay, so I didn’t have the discomfort of somebody holding an important document behind me and waiting for me to breathe electronic life into it; I did have time to reflect, ponder, click some erstwhile unused icons and work out, laterally what the problem could possibly be.
And so I did. In ten further minutes or so.
And I’m not meaning to blow my own trumpet, but *TOOT-TOOTY-PEEP-PEEP!*
But if a bloke had accomplished this (certainly our last IT Technician) he would have said something like: “The infrastructure of the hardwiring flombat had incrapsumently disconfigured the mainframe grapulementure, I don’t know why I didn’t spot it before”.
Me?
When I was being patted on the back and congratulated on my admirable attitude and perseverance,  and asked how I’d worked it out, I just said “Oh, I clicked some other buttons.”
Bah. And I wonder why I’m not sitting at Bill Gates’ right hand!

A Photo MeMe

The lovely Anne Dunlop tagged me in a Photo Meme and I'm hereby tagging those at the bottom of this one... find the oldest picture folder on your pc and upload the 10th.  Here's mine.  And it's - obviously - one of The Girl.  In the wonderful garden we had at our last house.  The dog by her side belonged to a nice man I worked with called Paul who was round helping us clear rubbish from the back of the shed, dismantling the swing and generally being a very great help.  We loved our little 'Wendy House' at Greenveiw and we do miss it's lushness and the fact it was self-maintaining (i.e. didn't need anything major doing to it bar the odd trim).  This was our last summer here because (exactly, spookily) 8 weeks later my dad would die and we would be upping sticks and moving about 2 miles up't'road to where we are now.
Ah the memories - not least of those teensy tiny plaits that the Girl would insist I weave through the front ofher hair with  painstakingly regularity.  And that damned T-shirt which I got her in the BHS mid-summer sale with the almost-completely silver glittered logo which ended up covering the rest of our clothes in silver specks for the remainder of the summer.  Now it's YOUR turn...
Michele Brouder,
Jacqui Christodoulou
Keris Stainton,
Fionnuala Kearney.

A Booky Thing...

With thanks to my lovely friend Clodagh for tagging me with this:

1. The last book I read was... ‘The Brightest Star in the Sky’ and we all know what I thought of that.

2. The book(s) I’m currently reading... (in the car) ‘The Shack’ by Wm Paul Young – lent by colleague – you know the one – guy’s daughter gets murdered, guy gets note from God asking him to meet him in shack where she was killed. I’ll get back to you. And (in bed) ‘The Memory Keeper’s Daughter’ – liking muchly thus far.

3. The last bestseller I've read was ‘The Brightest Star..’

4. The last book I've bought/received is...’Girl Aloud’ by Emily Gale.

5. The books I'll be buying soon is/are... ‘Heart of the Matter’ by Emily Giffin. When’s it out again? Keris? Oh yeah, and CANNOT WAIT for my copy of ‘Della Says…OMG’ (she doesn’t say WTF anymore, allegedly) (LOL) by the fabulously gifted Keris Stainton.

6. My favourite children's book is... The Magic Faraway Tree by jolly ol’ Enid.

7. My favourite Shakespeare play is... Romeo and Juliet cos I’m a big softie at heart – and it’s just so tragic.

8. Best period of literature? Er… now?

9. Emily Brönte or Jane Austen? Bronte without a doubt. All that wild and windswept torrent of emotions stuff.

10. My favourite poet/s is/are... Alfred Lord Tennyson – Lady of Shallott will always stay with me. Painful, beautiful, evocative. And it rhymes.

11. My favourite literature character is... Minerva Dobbs (‘Bet Me’ by Jennifer Crusie) – spunky, feisty, passionate about love and food. My kinda gal!

12. A book I could reread a thousand times is... ‘Vince and Joy’ by Lisa Jewell. A pleasure to have living with me. It’s a tonic.

13. A book I hated is... languishing in a landfill somewhere... ‘Inglorious’ by Joanna Kavannah. Bought it cos I’d read she was published after writing 8 books and I felt a kind of empathy. Empathy stopped right there.

14. If my life were a book, it would be... ‘High Fidelity’ by Nick Hornby cos it’s about missed opportunities, making wrong choices and wondering where it all went so awry - a tragi-rom-com with a happy ending (here’s hoping!).

15. My ritual when reading a book is… Quiet. Open. Read. Anywhere. Home, car, waiting room, loo, other peoples houses. Draw the line at other people’s loos.

16. Best places to buy books: I cheat and read the first chapter on the ‘Lovereading’ site and then go over to Amazon and buy it. Hey, there’s a recession! But you can’t beat browsing in person in Waterstones, just costs more.

17. The language(s) I read most of my books is… English. Dumb question, right?

18. Do you write? If so, what? God yes, constantly - even when it's not coming out of my fingers it's swimming about in my mind. Couple of adult and a Young adult books – currently working on 2nd teenage thing. Oh, I Blog. See? And I write Shopping and To Do lists (sad, no?).

19. Recommend a book: oh definitely ‘Bet Me.’ Every time. THE definitive chick lit book – EVER. Thanks to my (still fabulous) friend Keris for pointing me in the Crusie’s direction.

This Stuff I write...

With thanks to very famous author lady, Anne Dunlop who kindly tagged me and made me feel ridiculously happy!

What words do you use too much in your writing?
I copied and pasted my last 2 books into the wonderful site of www.wordle.net which is a fabulous form of procrastination if ever a writer needed it! It turns your book/poem/letter to the milkman into a work of art and the more you use a word, the bigger Wordle makes it appear.
The words I use most often are: “so” “like” and “just” *

BUT I do know I use “actually” and “probably” a lot because of my vacillating nature. Perhaps. **

Which words do you consider overused in stuff you read?
Any long descriptive guff about the main character. I don’t mind a brief outline of their appearance but I want to decide myself what colour their eyes are, what they’re wearing that day and how large their arse is thank you. I’ve been known to stop reading when an MC is bemoaning her unruly red hair and curvy size 12 shape – per-lease! And if I see another “Prada” or “Louis Viutton” anything I shall be sick.

What's your favourite piece of writing (written by you)?

Simply because I remember it made my Bestselling writer friend Claire Allan spit Diet coke out at the screen when she read it and it made my day/year/life when she said that.

THE SPILT MILK THING

‘Oh my God!’ My mother’s voice was a shrill as a peacock’s. And I’d never seen her move quite so fast. ‘Look! Thomas! Quick – get the teacloth! Quickly I said!’
Milly’s face was a mixture of bewilderment and entertainment. She’d only ever seen displays of this comic magnitude on the Teletubbies. She watched with interest as her Grandmother tore the cloth from my hastily returning dad’s hands and hurled herself at the spillage on the carpet.
‘It’s ruined!’ She wailed. ‘Ruined! Look at this – it’ll stink to high heaven!’
‘Mum,’ I started – conscious that Milly’s face was now pinking slightly and tears had started to well in her confused blue eyes. ‘It’ll be fine. It’s only milk. Here – use this…’ I offered a baby wipe, which she couldn’t have stared at with more disgust if it had had a swastika printed on it.
‘What is that?’ she screeched.
‘It’s a baby wipe – I tell you what, I swear by them – they get rid of anything off anything and I don’t know what I ever did before I had Milly because they’re a miracle invention…’ I leant over to scoop Milly up and away from the ‘carnage’ ‘They’re great, aren’t they Milly?’ I tickled her gently, not wanting her to become distressed as my mother continued to swoosh and swipe away at the ‘damage’ my little girl had done.
My dad returned to the scene with a bowl full of water and washing up liquid. God, some things never changed did they? That was their answer to everything. They just never moved with the times. They probably didn’t even have a spray gun of Dettox in the house. How archaic could you be?
My mother was still muttering and tutting to herself.
‘How did it happen?’ Dad asked.
‘Just dropped it!’ Mum almost spat, re-enacting Milly’s little slip-up as if it might just secure her a call-back to RADA. ‘Straight on the floor!’
‘Now hang on a minute!’ I started. Acutely aware that Milly was being held accountable for this and she had never in her life been made to feel guilty or responsible or anything bad for any spillage or damage howsoever it had occurred in our house at home – this was not going to start happening now!
‘The bottle slipped off the table’ I helped. ‘Look – it’s a shiny surface, the table must have tilted a bit and the bottle slid off…an accident’
It was one of those ‘TV dinner’ tables that open up like a deckchair in front of your chair. Polished to within an inch of its life (unlike the mantelpiece that held so many photo frames and ornaments I was amazed it didn’t groan with the strain as well as the bad taste and dust) it was no wonder the bottle slid off. Torville and Dean would have had a hard time standing still on it.
‘It’ll stink!’ My mother continued.
‘Dettox spray.’ I said calmly. ‘That’s all you need. Washing up liquid won’t stop the smell – this is Dettol in a spray – kills bacteria, stops odours, brilliant stuff.’ I was beginning to sound like an advertisement. ‘Have you got some?’
The look on mum and dad’s faces was priceless. It was a look I now remembered from being at home when ‘Tomorrow’s World’ had been on the telly. In particular the one about the advent of CD’s. They’d been showing their viewers exactly what could be done to a CD and it’s virtual indestructibility (of course we all know now the bloody things jump just as much as vinyl!). But the minute the strawberry jam had been wiped off and the thing had still played perfect music, the look they gave each other was - well, the same as the look they were now passing each other. Sheer disbelief that this kind of thing could actually exist in their lifetime - coupled with the worry that maybe it could also produce some mind-altering waves that would one-day lead to global brain-melt. My Nan had had the same reaction to the Mash advert aliens but that’s another story.
‘I’ll take Milly down the road to get some.’ I said.
(From Book No.1 “Labrats” re-titled ”Reconstructing Jennifer”)

Regrets, do you have a few? Is there anything you wish you hadn't written?
I kinda wish I hadn’t spent the best part of six months writing book #3. I kept changing the title every day and it felt like I was ploughing a field of syrup wearing welly boots. I hated it. I had to end it at 85thou in the end and move onto something younger and fresher – we just lost our connection. I cheated on my 85thou dark chick-lit thing with naughty bits for a Young Adult. Oo-er Missus.

How has your writing made a difference?
I’ve made so many (virtual but they’re very real and dear to me) friends through joining Write Words, the online writers’ community that I suppose it’s not the writing that’s made the difference but the Wonderful World of the Web and the amazing support and confidence and encouragement I get from these wonderful writer friends I’ve made.
(I *heart* you all… sob)
Oh, and I also now have "writer's arse"

Favourite words
We’d. Love. To. Represent. You.

Least favourite words
Not
For
Us

Do you have a writing mentor, role model or inspiration?
I adored reading Jilly Cooper and tried to write like her when I was a pretentious teenager.
Marian Keyes opened my eyes with ‘Watermelon’ and made me think I could write this stuff too if she bloody well could.
Keris Stainton kept me going.
Michele Brouder still does. So do Fionnuala, Clodagh and Luisa, Anstey, and Claire, and Trina, Zoe and Emily … do I sound like The RomperRoom lady?
And they’re all such fantastic writers. I feel privileged to know them.

Writing Ambition?
The dream: to see a book I’ve written in print. In Waterstone’s, Sainsbury’s, Smiths, everywhere and to stand by it and smile. So simple.
Reality? Currently to find an Agent who loves my writing as much as I love producing it – which would give me all the incentive and deadline I need to stop arsing about doing meaningless quizzes on Facebook.

Plug:
Keep an eye out for “Double History” which is the Young Adult thing I’m presently working on. It’s a departure from the Chick-lit I’m used to penning and I’m having such a blast writing it - it’s GOT to succeed!


Now I'd like to tag:
Michele Brouder
Jacqueline Christodoulou (sp?)
Luisa Plaja
Anstey Spraggen

* ** Just read this back and I DO use "arse" a lot, I noticed!

25 Random Things - Part I

Can you tell I can't think of anything deep and meaningful to post?!

1. When I was 10 I tried to get rid of my freckles by scouring them with lemon juice and vinegar. I woke up with the pillow stuck to my face. And I stank.

2. My first crush was on Thomas O'Malley (O'Malley The Alleycat from "The Aristocats"). Obviously I've moved on since then. Husband is neither cartoon nor feline. Though he is deliciously cheeky and slinky and… ok, ok… so it set a precedent!

3. My favourite pair of knickers were ripped off on a badly constructed park slide when I was 8. I was more mortified having to go back up to retrieve them before walking home with them in my pocket.

4. I hate bad drivers. Which is everyone on the road apart from me. My dad taught me that.

5. I miss my dad every day.

6. I always wanted a Gay best friend – and then my best friend came out!

7. Hoovering is just another excuse not to write. So is dusting. And washing-up.

8. I like ironing. (Note: I didn't use the *love* word).

9. My favourite colour is teal because it's a mixture of blue and green and I can't choose from either of those.

10. Making decisions is not one of my strengths. I don't think, anyway.

Part II coming soon!
Oooh I bet you can hardly wait, eh?!!!