Welcome to my perfumed garden

Entanglement is finished, finally, one and for all, this is it, oh yes indeedy! I just finished backing it up in all it's many parts and...

Alright, I know I already said this a dozen times. I thought it was finished last September, but then I printed it out and realised it was pure, hand-crafted pants - which is to say, it needed a fair bit of tightening up, lots of things you really only see when you print it out for some reason -
But it really is Done now and  I shall not be looking at it again until forced at gunpoint and/or if the thing ever gets within sniffing distance of an agent when he/she will make me do this All Over Again.

But it's over for the time being. Can has life nao, plz?

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 )

5 hours editing the novel - you know, the one I thought I'd finished which I printed out and started checking and... oh dear.

Anyway, the tree is up! We are about to embark on the lights. Please pray for us.

And tis the BIRTHDAY of the most-estimable LUICAT! May your year be as gorgeous, as delightful and delicious as your good self, kitten. XXX

Only I don't, not very much these days. Alas, the life of the gilly is a rather dreary and uneventful place of late and it seems a waste of everyone's time to be posting nonsense about nothing. I haven't even twittered in an age.

I still live, is, I suppose, the message of this pointless post, that and my old friend prevarication...

I'm still (yeah) waiting for news on the novel from th'Agent. I sent him a terribly gently worded prod a few weeks ago to which he responded that he still hadn't had time to finish it. It's getting on for 10 weeks since I sent him the full ms and I've run out of patience so I'm sending it off to some more agencies, which means I now have to produce a proper submission including the dread 'one page synopsis'.

Boiling a 548 page novel down to a single page is something of a bugger. I currently have it at 19 pages - hence this post. Anything (anything!!!) rather than go back to the ceremonial brain-boiling that is that bloody (bloody!) synopsis.

But such is life.

I'm working on a second novel at the moment, should anyone give a monkeys, a sequel to the last. I've prevaricated nicely on that one, too (see the shiny icon!) - and there's fic, too. fluterbev and I have been communing, work is ongoing, we're working to finish Decimated by Christmas but life may well get in the way of our well-crafted plans so I can promise nothing.

Urm. I think that's it, really. It's awfully dark and dreary outside. My coffee's going cold. I should get back to work. I hope life is being a perfect poppet for you all. ::making the kissy face:: XXX

I don't seem to do that very often these days but, good people, I honestly have nothing to say!

Re Entanglement: I'm still waiting on the first agent, I'm told that nothing happens during Frankfurt so I'm giving him another week before I'll proffer up a gentle email prod. I am firmly of the opinion that waiting on decisions entirely out of your control is, to paraphrase the immortal Baldrick, a horrid thing.

While I wait, I've started work on a new story - I had 2 going for ages but finally settled on the Entanglement sequel (sorry mrs_tilford !) because the voices told me I had to various blogs seem to be firmly of the opinion that being able to offer sequels greatly ups your chances of publishing and who am I to argue with various blogs?

Anyway, that's all up and running and a very dark tale it's shaping up to be. Very dark indeed (cue the obligatory evil laugh). I actually did some solid, concerted work on that today - progress has been seen to be made. I am not displeased.

Fannish life - is non existent, really. There's nothing new and the old has lost its shine and that part of my life languishes in dusty, cobwebbed neglect. LJ likewise seems quiet as an old, forgotten grave. I don't know if everyone's lost their mojo too, or if you're all lurking in New Fannish Lands in the parts of LJ where I never tread but it's been dead as a rusty shovel round here lately. I've had to turn to Twiter for kicks, people, that can't be right.

I shall throw out some spangled, golden kisses and chocolate-coated delights anyway, for old time's sake. Use them wisely, I shall be testing you on them later. XXX

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).

46 chapters, 136,303 words, 95% complete.  Only 2 chapters, 8,000 words to finish . Dear god, whatever will I do when it's done? Suggestions on a postcard...

In other news, m'sister just took delivery of a Radio Times from 1st May 1969. So many ads for slimming-aids (and 50/50 featuring men as the dieters which is interesting) and just utterly fascinating. I cannot tear myself away!

About to embark on the rewrites of chapter 41 (of 48). Currently the 3rd draft stands at 116,460 words, 78% complete. Lots of repetitive stuff has been excised and a lot of rewriting - the whole thing has taken way, way longer and been much harder work than I anticipated but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel now (said tunnels playing Large Roles in the plot and that so ha ha, well done me)

I'm sort of simultaneously doing a 4th draft in that I'm printing it out as I work and always see loads more editing once it's on the printed page so...

Yeah. Slow. Very (she said tiredly), but coming on. The end is in sight and all that.

Kay, one more chapter then dinner must be cooked and dishes bathed in Fairy Liquid (so that my hands might be soft as my face tho why they'd want to be is a mystery that might never be explained) before that most estimable thesp. Dame Joanna of Lumley pulls her documentary panties on and turns her most serious face to the camera to tell us all sorts of stuff about cats. That cannot be missed, no siree.

Alrightee. Tea, methinks, then ON! (huzah!) with Chapter 41, 'The Sandburg Theory'. :o) Yeah, really. I just couldn't resist.

to Just a Minute on R4? Oh dear god, the silly voices, such sublime silliness! ::wipes eyes::

I'm otherwise en-mired in chapter 39 of the novel but taking a wee break with a cuppa should anyone want to know. The cat just came in. It's looking like rain.

The cat just forced himself inside a small box full of home-made wines, all I can see are cork-tops and a head. This is going to end well...

Alan Turing finally pardoned.


And now I really feel like watching Breaking the Code again. Alas I must work on my novel instead.