Welcome to my perfumed garden

Will Self vs Richard Littlejohn on the Nicky Campbell show.

Transcript be here.

Yes, it's me again. I've been out and planted a greengage and some anemones but I'm back now.

The Orange longlist, with total sales for each of the nominated books.

 A Gate at the Stairs is on there? Seriously??? Worst book I've read this year.

My Year in retrospect, by gillyp, aged.

( Fandom and Fic )( Writing )


( Reading )( Reading )
In general: Life has been a bit rough at times. We’re still doing one week home, one week at Dad’s which is stressful and tiring. Dad is exactly as he was, some days up, some days down (some days very down indeed), it’s become routine really, a bit bothersome. I have to keep reminding myself that in many respects, I have a life that’s pretty good, that many might envy. OK, a bit (very! Oh so very...)  uneventful and dull, but far from arduous and relatively free of pain. I do keep reminding myself of that (but if the Gods are listening, a little more excitement – of the nicer sort - really wouldn’t go amiss in 2010)

So to round off 2009, I’m going to do that first-post, last-post LJ meme and say, have a marvellous 2010 everyone, I think we all deserve a break. Much love to you all, thank you so much, every one of you, for the laughs and the love and for keeping me sane.

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

( My Year on LJ )

wot I found on the electric interwebs.

6 writers who accidentally crapped out masterpieces.

Why oh why does SF never get the Booker?

Well, they tell me it's Saturday. I suppose they could be lying but then, why would they bother, you know? But then the Met office said it would be sunny and they lie! for it is darkly grey and ominous and suspiciously warm.

A sleepless night after a tiring week has left me a well-knackered bunny. I had planned to use this day wisely and well in printing out the 3rd draft of Entanglement and doing that all-important 4th edit but I'm mildly scared I'll find that it's wall to wall shit now it's been sent to an agent and then worry. Why do that to myself, I cannot help but ask? Also the continuous interruptions - water meter man, post men, couriers, an itinerant hedge cutter - have done nothing to help my resolve to stare at the wall work on the book.

So, all of the above plus the aforementioned tiredness and my natural inklination to idleness leads me to endlessly peruse Twitter, t'internet and my current crop of reading, some self-chosen, some chosen for me (and for which I shall have to write reviews alas). For the bookly minded, these be:

Breath, Tim Winton. Surprisingly readable and really good.
Makers, Cory Doctorow. Frighteningly long.
Day After Night, Anita Diamant. A review copy and not my cup of tea at all ('Extraordinary true story', internment, Polish Zionist, Holocaust! run away, run away!!!) but I shall do my duty and hope (but not expect) to be pleasantly surprised.
The Thirteenth Tale, Diane Setterfield. Been wanting to read this for ages but work keeps getting in the way.
Vineland, Pynchon. Ditto.
The Men Who Stare at Goats, Tom Ronson

Tea now, I think. I'm currently working my happy way through a box of Twining's Lemon Grove which I hadn't had before and is surprisingly delicious. It tastes of lemon Opal Fruits which can only be a Very good thing. New Californication on the box tonight, also a repeat of the Robbie Coltraine, John Sessions Boswell thingum.

In short, life is currently pleasing me in a sound and goodly way, I hope she is doing the same for you, too, my esteemed and doxilicious flist. Here, have a sprinkling of pink sugar-dusted, sparkly cherry-vanilla kisses. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Whatever Mark's using in the bath, it smells bloody awful.

ETA: Too good not to share (Caution, contains Dan Brown).

Fox 'News' continues to amuse with it's deranged absurdity.

and I have a new Aga! Lawks a lawdy, it's hot in here! It smells a bit funny at the moment but we're assured that will wear off in a few hours and in the meantime - omg! heating and hot water and cookery! and heating and - did I mention how bloody hot it is in here? I shall post a picture as soon as the camera stops playing silly buggers.

And Twitter for a Nobel Prize? and is it Saturday already? And will it ever stop raining? And look at Gaiman's library O:!

Do I ramble? I think I'm being affected by the unbearable heat. Where's Omid Djallili when you need him? Well, on YT of course.

I think I need coffee. Maybe some toast.

this tragic news?

Tim Guest has died

No coffee till eleven. Woken (again) at some ungodly hour. I'd advise everyone to keep well back.

I seem to be craving toast.

And I've been reading The End of Mr Y by Scarlett Thomas in a state of some fear and trepidation. You know when Amazon tell you, if you liked that, you'll love this! Well, this one came up and I read the blurb and omg! It sounded horribly similar to the novel I'm writing, so I ordered a copy and - there are similar themes, to be sure. There's this 'other world' that runs on quantum physics but in every other respect, it's nothing like mine at all. Mine has more plot, an entirely different story, an entirely different premise and construction and characters and - gosh, I hope mine isn't half so depressing. TEOMY is a brilliant book of massive imagination and a real page-turner but it does seem to be trying to suck your life out with a straw. And it means I'll have to be extra careful wth my query letter now, or run the risk of being binned with them thinking Entanglement's the same as this book.

::sigh::

There's always something, as my mum would say.

OK. What's the time now? Only an hour to the test. After the test there will be coffee and breakfast. I can do this.

Srzly!

It's still a bit nippy out there but the sun be shining, birds are nesting in my eaves; there's a wee Robin singing his heart out on my gate; daffodils and crocuses are up, my seedlings are sprouting like rampant crinoidal sprouty things. 

This has to be good.

We're home for a week anyway, Morrison's has been duly stripped of goodies, I have tea and bikkies and really should leave off Twitter now and do some work.

Oh, and I'm reading a wonderful book. I'm only 1/3 of the way in but I'm loving every damn page so far. Solo by Rana Dasgupta. A 100 year old man looks back on his life. Beautiful writing, great characters, rivetting story.

OK. Working. I am. I am. Right after I make some more tea.

As Meat Loves Salt from Amazon as I am reliably informed it is rich in teh gay. Anyone read it? Opinions? It gets glowing reviews.

And it's Sunday! Aka do nothing day. Toasty buttered toast, coffee, Countryfile, an exciting looking new book to review, all day to browse t'internet and post endlessly meaningless, skatageous dribblings. My quiet joy is quiet and joyous.

Oh, and Happy Mother's Day to all that fit the category. I hope you're having a simply marvellous day you little furry balls of love and nonsense, you. XXX