There’s nothing like announcing your intentions in public to give yourself a kick up the backside in terms of getting on with it. Which is why I’ve dedicated this blog to dealing with the ongoing traumas and dramas of getting through a first draft by the end of 2009. Whether anyone reads the blog or not, it’s out there and it’s public and I’m hoping that will be sufficient impetus to get me through the difficult spots and keep plodding on regardless.
I’ve set myself a pretty reasonable 3,000 weekly word count. I’ve kept it fairly low on purpose, as I want to make sure it’s doable whilst fitting in the unpredictable nature of kids and working. That way, if I write more, then I can give myself a pat on the back.
I’m trying to write a little every day – whether it’s 100 or 1,000 words, I think it’s really important to keep the momentum going and to try and get into the habit of squeezing a bit of writing time into each day.
So, I’ve started switching the laptop on and getting my notes out just before I put the kids to bed. Then, once they’re tucked up, I sit down and write for 30 minutes to 1 hour. No tidying, no clearing up, no cooking dinner and definitely no sitting down on the sofa – any procrastinating and I know I’ll be done for. Even if I only manage a couple of hundred words, it feels like an achievement and a tiny bit of progress. If I'm feeling particularly knackered and have had a really hard day, a cheeky glass of wine by the side of the laptop provides a bit of extra incentive to sit down and start writing.
Wednesday, 13 May 2009
Tuesday, 12 May 2009
Get on with it
The novel had been festering away in the bowels of my computer for well over two years. I’d made pretty good progress when I first started it: getting home from work and writing for an hour or so, then doing a bit more at the weekend. However, that was before the pitter-patter of tiny feet and the legion of excuses that comes with the arrival of kids.
They have indeed provided me with plenty of reasons to avoid dusting off those first 20,000 words and getting on with the process of writing. Sleepless nights; decline in useable brain cells; no time to grab a cup of tea, let alone sit down to write; no space; no privacy; no life. But, there came a point when I couldn’t go on blaming the little critters for my lack of creative enthusiasm. They’re sleeping through, I have my life back (to some extent) and there’s finally a little bit of space in my frazzled brain to hold new ideas.
If indeed, I want to stop saying:
‘I’d love to write a book’, and instead be able to say:
‘I’ve written a book’, then I need to get a bloody move on and actually
start tapping some keys.
So, a few weeks ago, I finally opened the Word document and reacquainted myself with the novel in progress. Since then, I’ve written another 10,000 words and have started mapping out the remaining chapters in more detail. It’s proving to be strangely cathartic and hasn’t impinged upon my precious down-time as much as I’d presumed it would. So far, I’m really enjoying the process of getting to know the characters again and getting into the story. I’m just hoping this will last and it’s not just a rush of initial enthusiasm. Watch this space!
They have indeed provided me with plenty of reasons to avoid dusting off those first 20,000 words and getting on with the process of writing. Sleepless nights; decline in useable brain cells; no time to grab a cup of tea, let alone sit down to write; no space; no privacy; no life. But, there came a point when I couldn’t go on blaming the little critters for my lack of creative enthusiasm. They’re sleeping through, I have my life back (to some extent) and there’s finally a little bit of space in my frazzled brain to hold new ideas.
If indeed, I want to stop saying:
‘I’d love to write a book’, and instead be able to say:
‘I’ve written a book’, then I need to get a bloody move on and actually
start tapping some keys.
So, a few weeks ago, I finally opened the Word document and reacquainted myself with the novel in progress. Since then, I’ve written another 10,000 words and have started mapping out the remaining chapters in more detail. It’s proving to be strangely cathartic and hasn’t impinged upon my precious down-time as much as I’d presumed it would. So far, I’m really enjoying the process of getting to know the characters again and getting into the story. I’m just hoping this will last and it’s not just a rush of initial enthusiasm. Watch this space!
Wednesday, 6 May 2009
Pink at the o2 (Sunday 3 May)
So, we'd finished the barbecue (which was essentially rained off and moved indoors, in true British style) and were just tucking into another bottle of wine when I was offered a free ticket to the Pink gig. Perhaps it was the wine, perhaps it was the Bank Holiday joie de vivre but before my better judgement could kick in, I'd eagerly accepted.
I've hummed along to a couple of tracks, seen clips from a few music videos and would recognise her photo in a magazine but that's about as far as my level of Pink knowledge goes. So, basically I went along with few, if any, expectations.
Turns out the girl can sing - and I mean really pelt out a number. The gig was more theatrical performance accompanied by rock/pop tunes than anything else but I like the fact that a certain amount of money and effort was spent on the tour. Although I hadn't spent any buying a ticket, I felt justified on the part of the other genuine fans who surrounded us in their droves. The place was packed full of lesbian bikers, teenagers wearing pink tutus, and the odd parent looking out of place but secretly pleased to be there.
I knew more songs that I thought and was genuinely impressed by the quality of the show and the sustained quality of her singing performance. She chatted between songs and flitted around the stage effortlessly in her impossibly high stilettos. The highlight was when she performed a trapeze routine and carried on singing while swinging across the stage upside down.
I've hummed along to a couple of tracks, seen clips from a few music videos and would recognise her photo in a magazine but that's about as far as my level of Pink knowledge goes. So, basically I went along with few, if any, expectations.
Turns out the girl can sing - and I mean really pelt out a number. The gig was more theatrical performance accompanied by rock/pop tunes than anything else but I like the fact that a certain amount of money and effort was spent on the tour. Although I hadn't spent any buying a ticket, I felt justified on the part of the other genuine fans who surrounded us in their droves. The place was packed full of lesbian bikers, teenagers wearing pink tutus, and the odd parent looking out of place but secretly pleased to be there.
I knew more songs that I thought and was genuinely impressed by the quality of the show and the sustained quality of her singing performance. She chatted between songs and flitted around the stage effortlessly in her impossibly high stilettos. The highlight was when she performed a trapeze routine and carried on singing while swinging across the stage upside down.
Wednesday, 4 March 2009
To Sleep, Perchance to Dream
This week we've decided to crack down on our youngest's early morning rising with all the might of a military campaign. Having endured months of being woken up at 5am, it was time to take drastic measures. It's all very well if you don't mind being tucked up in bed with a Catherine Cookson tome and a cup of cocoa by 9pm. However, if you fancy a bit of a life then it's absolute hell to be cruelly deprived of sleep by a screaming toddler who's ready to start their day when young urban things about town are just hitting the hay.
Anyway, we settled on the 'back-to-sleep' method which basically involves leaving him for 5 minutes when he first wakes up and cries then going in, giving him a cuddle until he settles and then putting him back in his cot. This process is repeated, adding a couple of minutes onto the crying stage after each time you have to go in. Obviously, the first time he realised that he wasn't being taken downstairs for some milk and noisy plastic toy action, he was a bit put out and screamed as soon as he was placed back in his cot. However, with about 5 more cuddes and settles he did go off to sleep for a bit. The second morning he slept until 5.30am and then settled again after just 3 visits. This morning he slept until 6am and then settled after 1 cuddle for another half hour. Result!
I know, I know, it's very early days but those extra couple of hours' sleep have revitalised me and I've lost some of my pessimistic resignation to the whole sleep issue. We're determined to believe that it's working...
Anyway, we settled on the 'back-to-sleep' method which basically involves leaving him for 5 minutes when he first wakes up and cries then going in, giving him a cuddle until he settles and then putting him back in his cot. This process is repeated, adding a couple of minutes onto the crying stage after each time you have to go in. Obviously, the first time he realised that he wasn't being taken downstairs for some milk and noisy plastic toy action, he was a bit put out and screamed as soon as he was placed back in his cot. However, with about 5 more cuddes and settles he did go off to sleep for a bit. The second morning he slept until 5.30am and then settled again after just 3 visits. This morning he slept until 6am and then settled after 1 cuddle for another half hour. Result!
I know, I know, it's very early days but those extra couple of hours' sleep have revitalised me and I've lost some of my pessimistic resignation to the whole sleep issue. We're determined to believe that it's working...
Tuesday, 3 March 2009
The CBeebies Lesson for Everyone
I read at the weekend that parents have been complaining to the BBC about the CBeebies presenter Cerrie Burnell. Cerrie was born with one hand missing and apparently some over-protective parents were concerned that their offspring might have nightmares about her appearance.
If you truly believe that there’s nothing more difficult for your child to have to deal with than seeing someone with a disability then you should be thanking your lucky stars. Personally, I applaud both Cerrie and the BBC for helping to introduce young children to the notion of disability in an environment that’s familiar and comforting to them.
I think the BBC has a pretty good record when it comes to addressing the thorny issues of gender, race and disability in its children’s programming and I find it extremely saddening that parents feel the need to try and shield their children from the realities of disability. Cerrie is a great role model and presenter who just happens to have a disability – so what?
One of the most important jobs we have to do, as parents, is to instill a sense of understanding and acceptance into our children. Children are naturally inquisitive and, when given a reasonable response to a reasonable question, they will digest the information and move on. My daughter asked about Cerrie’s hand and I explained it to her. No big deal. If kids were exposed to, and learnt about, disabilities from an early age then the world would be a far more tolerant place. What message is it sending to your child if you snatch the remote control and desperately try to change channel, or throw yourself in front of them every time someone with a disability comes onto the telly?
Forget the organic baby rusks, yoga classes and hand-spun ethical cotton sleep suits; teach your child to accept people for who they are, not how they look, and you’ve given them the best start in life.
If you truly believe that there’s nothing more difficult for your child to have to deal with than seeing someone with a disability then you should be thanking your lucky stars. Personally, I applaud both Cerrie and the BBC for helping to introduce young children to the notion of disability in an environment that’s familiar and comforting to them.
I think the BBC has a pretty good record when it comes to addressing the thorny issues of gender, race and disability in its children’s programming and I find it extremely saddening that parents feel the need to try and shield their children from the realities of disability. Cerrie is a great role model and presenter who just happens to have a disability – so what?
One of the most important jobs we have to do, as parents, is to instill a sense of understanding and acceptance into our children. Children are naturally inquisitive and, when given a reasonable response to a reasonable question, they will digest the information and move on. My daughter asked about Cerrie’s hand and I explained it to her. No big deal. If kids were exposed to, and learnt about, disabilities from an early age then the world would be a far more tolerant place. What message is it sending to your child if you snatch the remote control and desperately try to change channel, or throw yourself in front of them every time someone with a disability comes onto the telly?
Forget the organic baby rusks, yoga classes and hand-spun ethical cotton sleep suits; teach your child to accept people for who they are, not how they look, and you’ve given them the best start in life.
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