Normaling is Fun...

Here's a NSFW question if you can handle it. Treat it rhetorically, please. I have no need for actual answers when I'm merely trying to illustrate a point. Brace yourself, Prudes, here we go...

Have you ever been in the middle of having lovely consensual sex in an upstairs room when you hear someone's key in the front door? 

HAS THIS EVER
HAPPENED TO YOU?

Look, sorry for going straight to the nub of the issue here. Except I haven't yet, that's still to come. Still, you know. Sorry. But, back to my potential voyeuristic problem. I'm not talking about an illicit affair or something that shouldn't be happening. This is more a returning flatmate situation, or a family member that has dropped off some shopping and is only nipping in. Has that ever happened to you? If it helps you can lose the upstairs/downstairs arrangement. I'm referring more to the dawning awareness of someone else in the building. It could be someone waking up in the next bedroom, an unexpected car pulling up outside, or the window cleaner's head emerging behind the hastily closed curtains the second you get jiggy. 

Have a think and ponder the impact that would have on the sexy time. For some of you - filthy buggers - it would add an exciting thrill to the proceedings. For those that feel this way, my eventual point is going to be lost on you. Be on your way and good day. For many, however, it would be completely off-putting. It might not actually impinge on your privacy for real - if the bedroom door was shut and the person that had entered the house stayed downstairs, there would be no immediate reason to stop. But I'd bet money it would drag you out of the moment and, I'm guessing, reduce the likelihood of the wave-crashing, champagne cork-popping conclusion you were planning. It would cramp your style, stop you from losing yourself, and put you off. 

My usual writing set up.
Quite clearly alone.

So, now we're suitably uncomfortable and scanning our minds back over our every shag, let's get to the point. From January this year, I've no longer had the house to myself as much as I did. The person that also lives here has rejigged his working hours to accommodate more time off. Two weekdays more, in fact. Good for him. (That sentiment is predominantly sarcastic.) Good for him but, it's fair to say, not good for me. Having a silent, empty house for twelve hours a day, has been essential. Conversely, it's also an out and out luxury. I know that deep down. Writers with kids, jobs and responsibilities don't get to be so fussy. But I've been spoilt. For nine years this is how I've worked. Silently and alone. Whilst I might be able to make notes or research stuff with someone else around, I absolutely cannot write. I know this because I've tried. It always ends up being a waste of time. I reread the same bits over and over, unable to take them in. Everything is forced. I might type words but they invariably end up deleted the next time I'm alone and can process what I've written. Like the interrupted sex, someone sitting in the lounge enjoying their day off as I'm in the kitchen trying to write, would cramp my style, stop me from losing myself, and put me off. 

I was fairly annoyed about it over Christmas. During family get togethers and mates' gatherings, I had to listen to the new January plans being shared excitedly. Obviously taking time off from a busy job is great for the person having the break. Good for him. (Again, more snark.) It was just infuriating to realise that this new routine would screw me over in the process, regardless of whether that was the intention or not. My own plans for 2020 were to get the draft of Book Three whipped into shape, professionally edited, beta-read by several people, with the view to formatting and front-covering by the start of next year. With a couple of days a week taken away from that, it would push things back even further. The process takes long enough as it is.

I needed a plan. The good news (for me this time. Hurrah!) was that I found one. 

The ladder adds a particular 
je ne sais quoi to the ambience

The Pharmacy business of which I'm a silent partner (the easiest of all the partner roles, I've found) has an upstairs office. In fact, now that the non-silent business partner was planning on relaxing at home two days a week, that office was going to be empty. It occurred to me that a desk and chair in a room with a closed door, might just work. On New Year's Eve I popped in and surveyed the scene. Was this a place I could begin the editing and rewriting of Book Three? Well, look at the photo and decide. Does this scene speak of an environment that nurtures creativity? I hope you can see the answer is a big fat NO. But, it was still better than my mostly open plan house. I used a measure app on my phone to work out what space I had to play with, and with the help of eBay, Ikea, and some drawn-to-scale plans, the like of which have not been seen since my GSCE Design and Communication days, I planned out a work space.

A desk and office chair aren't really necessary. As pictured above, my preferred writing position is an upright but comfy chair, legs elevated on a stool, laptop balanced on a Stewie Griffin cushion, with the whole thing resting on my thighs. That was the vibe I needed to recreate in the Pharmacy office. So, that's what I did. 

It's a work space!
Happily, my yellow chair has
got a lot of love from
the Pharmacy staff.

Last week was the first week of the new routine. It was really quite odd waking up on Tuesday and getting showered and dressed first thing. You know, the way I used to when I went out to work. In 30 Rock, the character of Jenna Maroney is dating Paul, a Jenna Maroney impersonator. After trying one outlandish sexual fetish after another, they find pleasure in 'normaling' Behaving like normal people. That's what it felt like last Tuesday. There was nothing unusual about what I did, but for me it was a real change. I got to the office at ten, along with a flask of tea and cheese and crackers, sat in my yellow chair, and stayed there until half past six. Apart from two wee breaks (no, you're welcome) I didn't move. I also read the entire draft of Book Three, and made notes about each chapter along the way. I chose not to get on the Wifi, I kept the door shut, and had the most productive day I can remember. When Thursday came, I was excited to be able to repeat the process, and I did.

1.2 litres of tea is an essential
part of the new routine.

I know it's probably novelty that's making this feel like a breakthrough. Or simply that without Wifi, I'm not scrolling through Twitter every few seconds. But for two days last week I was on fire. The other new thing, that feels like I'm normaling again, is that chatting to colleagues at the end of the day is rather lovely. As I left on Thursday, the locum Pharmacist that I know a bit, chatted with me about the film Bombshell that we'd both seen. He recommended a book to me, and we talked about how good Little Women was. It was five minutes of natter, but it was really nice. I haven't made end-of-the-day small talk for years, but I liked it. Normaling. It's fun.

I was genuinely happy
at this point. It was the second
day of using the office and
it was all working out.

If you've made it to the end of this, and weren't put off by all my sex talk, then good on you. It's a longer Ramble than usual, but it's been a strange time. What I thought was going to be an infuriating start to the new year, has turned out to be surprisingly positive. It might be early days but I'm happier about this change that I'd assumed. There's probably a lesson to take from that, but I've written enough this week. What with all the normaling as well, I'm shattered.

Have a lovely week, folks.

Where to Begin Next...

Lolz. It isn't. It just takes work.

The skive is over. The routine is back. I'm out of bed, I've a complete draft of Book Three printed off in front of me, and it's time to make it read like the quality literature that it probably is deep down. But how exactly am I going to do that? 

Good question. How exactly indeed. Well, one thing I can say with confidence right now is that I'm aware of the limitations of the story so far. The plot might unfold the way I had planned, and the characters might drag themselves from A to Z in the way I'd envisaged, but - and it's a big but - it's not very pretty. The reader doesn't trip lightly through the story. They will, but they don't yet. It's clunky and heavy-handed and obvious and dull. Last week, a friend asked me about the book writing (she knew it was a continuation of Carry the Beautiful) and said, 'Does your character still have something to say?' I thought for a second and answered honestly. 'She does. But I don't think she's said it in the first draft.'

So here we are. Time to rip up that first draft and start again. Time to make sure Tilda, Bea and Stewart's journeys are worth the time it takes to read. 'Ripping it up and starting again' is a neat phrase but obviously won't be done literally. I have to have an actual plan for what comes next. What will I actually be doing over the ensuing months, day by day? Well, rather serendipitously, I had a mail out from Jericho Writers last week. They are a writing support group that has a weekly newsletter focusing on aspects of writing. (They're great and worth checking out if you're in need of writing support). Last week's email was about how to start editing your book. Spooky timing, right? Sometimes the emails are  - whilst always interesting - not necessarily relevant to where I'm up to. But not last week. No Ma'am. Last week's was bang on with what I needed to read. So, what wisdom did they impart? Was it any different to the vague plan I already had? Did they throw me an editing curve ball and force me to rethink everything I have learnt about what comes next? Well, no. Not really. It was reassuringly along the lines of what I'd been planning. Let me share my plans as well as the Jericho Writers' suggestions so you can compare.

Screen shot from Jericho Writers
mail out from Sarah J, on 14.1.20 

Nicky's Editing Next Steps

1. Read through from start to end. Make a summary of each chapter along the way. What works? What needs beefing up or changing? 

2. Does the story keep moving? Is the plot predictable? Is there enough suspense or engagement to keep turning the page?  Map out the chapter order (and change it where needed) on the wall.

3. Do the characters' journeys make sense? Do they all move on? Is there a sense of closure for each of them?

See, almost exactly the same. It was hugely reassuring to see my plans for the foreseeable future were in tune with people who aren't winging it every minute. Even more reassuring is that this feeling of 'ripping it up and starting again' is perfectly normal. This is the third novel I've written. I've felt the same way at this stage every time. I recognise the feeling of being overwhelmed with its problems. That's just part of it. The next stage is to systematically eradicate them.

I've already bought a new notebook, postcards and markers. I've got a blank wall ready to Blu Tack chapter summaries onto, in a variety of pretty patterns. I've even got a new writing area from which to work; I might share that with you at a later date. It's all coming together. That in itself is a reassuring feeling.

But now I've procrastinated enough. Christmas is most definitely over and I've got work to do. If I can whip this up into a readable, shareable shape by the summer, I'll be happy. That's when the beta reader stage will kick in. Until then, I shall be 'ripping up and rewriting' all the day is long.

Have a lovely week, folks.

The Joy of Being Empty Headed...

This is an exact representation of me
right now. Except I am not a turtle.
And I have no pizza.

It's week two of my three week break/skive* and I am relaxed. The story so far is that I'm trying to forget what my first draft of Book Three looks like, so I'm 'chilling out' and 'having fun' now that the business of December is over. 

And it has been fun so far. Not setting an alarm in the morning is a treat. No guilty urgency about word counts or the number of hours spent tinkering with a paragraph, is lovely. As much as writing is flexible, I've found the longer I've done it, the more time I spend 'tinkering'. Whilst the TV is on in the evening, when I'm driving somewhere, or when I'm cutting up veg for tea, a thought will pop into my head. I have to stop whatever I'm doing, find my phone, and type a garbled note to myself that I hope will mean something later. This also happens in the middle of the night. Basically, I never switch off. 

But now I have. Switched off, that is. It took a few days but it's happened. There's reasons for that. Not setting an alarm, for example, means I start the day in a much more casual way. I come to, rather than wake with a start. And when I've come to, I doze off again. It's great. Sorry for those back at work, but it's been a long time since I did this. I'm going to enjoy it.

Next, I'm forcibly filling my brain with other things. I mentioned books last week. So far, in 2020, I've read five novels and a play. I know! I'm well impressed with myself. Turns out, my Kindle is an enabler. I still have my rules though. I won't read anything I would have bought in paper form from a bricks and mortar book shop. So any new releases that I'm excited about, won't be getting downloaded. Instead, I've re-read a couple of books I'd enjoyed in the past, and bought a few others that I had been happy to let slip by. Turns out they were all good. Reading is great. Breaking news.

I am absolutely not
103 but this is great.

Finally, the big new thing in my life is the best distraction from writing ever. It's all-consuming and swallows up hours of my time without me looking at my phone once. I am aware I've moved into old person territory with this, but I honestly don't care. It's my new thing. I have become a fan of...jigsaws! 

Yes, jigsaws. Who even am I? The thing is, it's not even the jigsaw element of jigsaws that I love. It's the specific nature of the one I was given. I got a 2000 piece map of the world! This feeds into my love of maps and my excellent (even if I do say so myself) knowledge of countries.** I started it a few days after Christmas and soon realised this was going to be an absolute beast of a project. Just sorting out the edges from the non-edges took a good hour or so, but it flew by. My head was filled with the minutest of details that might help piece two or three bits together. Instead of global world events, the lies and backpedaling of the current government from their election promises, or that pesky Chapter 17 that just doesn't read right, I focused on two blue, seemingly identical chunks of ocean and where they fitted into the picture as a whole. It's the ideal task to force my brain to stop. And for whole chunks of time, too. I don't look at Twitter, use my phone, or scroll mindlessly thought New Look's new looks. It's nice to do something completely different. 

I was telling a friend that I'm all about jigsaws these days, and she responded with, 'How do you have time to do jigsaws?' And under normal circumstance I don't. But for this break/skive* that I'm in the middle of, it's perfect. And even though I'm still only on the edges and haven't made it onto the actual map yet, I've got a deadline to get it finished. A week today when I start back on with the book, I need to have it completed. I also have approximately thirteen more novels to read during my skive. I'm sure I'll fit it all in. I should probably start setting an alarm. Just to get the most hours from each day.

Have a lovely week, folks.

*Delete as appropriate.

**When insomnia hits, I have a tried and tested system to force me to drop off. I mentally list all the countries in the world, starting with North America and ending up - in a sort of clockwise arc - with Africa. It's surprisingly effective. I never make it to Asia before dropping off. Anyone need a snooze? OK then... 

Canada, USA, Panama, Mexico, Guatemla, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Belize, El Salvador, Antigua and Barbuda.......... zzzzzzzz

Warning: Creative Juices Depleted...

Hello war with the Middle East,
bush fires, Brexit and EVERYTHING ELSE.

We're a week in. Everyone coping so far? Yeah, I know world events haven't exactly eased us in gently. Huge chunks of Australia continue to burn. World War Three was trending by the 3rd. Best not check back in with the news. Not for a while, anyway. 

Focusing on the mundane might be all that is possible. What can we fill our time with if we're going to attempt to ignore the impeding doom around us? Well, it's different for everyone, of course. Some were straight back to work after Christmas. Others enjoyed a final week of chilling before real life kicked back in. For me, I've still got that completed first draft that needs metaphorically ripping apart and rebuilding. (Not that metaphorically, probably.) The thing is, it was all I filled my head with from June to December, and there were many early mornings and middle of the nights where I typed away, ignoring sensible sleep patterns and anything else that might be conducive to a healthy mental state. So now it's done, I need to give it, and my head, some space. I can still remember what I wrote. I want to forget before I pick it up again and read with fresh eyes. 

John Niven, the writer, once responded to the question 'How long should I leave my first draft before editing?' with 'Put it in a drawer and leave it for six months.' I completely agree with him (even if I can't find his original tweet saying that, and so I've had to paraphrase the exchange and hope for the best.) I don't have six months though. I mean, I do but I can't wait that long. I've not got my finger in a bunch of other pies that can occupy my time. Instead, I'm giving myself three weeks. Three weeks of January, not re-reading, thinking or editing Book 3. And the way I'm going to fill my time is going to sound like a big skive, even though it is not.

Ready for it? Oh well, I'll tell you anyway. I'm going to watch films and read books. No, honestly, it's an essential part of the process. I promise. My creative juice store is bare. Properly empty. By the time I was writing the last chapter of the draft a few weeks ago, I was writing utter drivel. And for plenty of the chapters before that too. I was getting in the basic plot points, but with the most jagged and literal dialogue going. Nothing of beauty, nothing that was pleasing to the eye or ear. Just going through the motions to get the thing done. And that's OK. For now. Because when I come to edit and rewrite it, I'll address all the rubbish then. But I can only address it, if I am fizzing over with ideas, literary devices, and narrative tools at my disposal. So that's what I'm going to do; spend three weeks replenishing my creative juices so I have the wherewithal to get back to it once again.

'Go Away I'm Reading'
A genuine hoody of joy from a
 mate who did not know
my January plans. Spooky.

For those who still need convincing this is not a self-indulgent skive, I've had a breakthrough already. My rough draft is a chronological, linear narrative. My nagging suspicion in recent weeks is that it won't grip readers to keep going. If it's A to B to C to D, what will make them keep reading to Z? All the information is laid out in order, and there's no suspense beyond liking the characters and wanting to see what happens to them. I'm not sure that's enough. It's been a thought I've had for the last couple of months without really knowing what to do about it. Anyway, by 2nd January, I'd completed step one in my 'Restore Nicky's Creative Juices Plan'. I had read The Ex Pats by Chris Pavone. A grippy thriller that takes place in several places (like my story) with several characters (like my story) but with several timelines chopping and changing, and revealing snippets of clues about what's to come before the reader really understands them (not like my story in the slightest.) It showed me how a structural change to the narrative would lift it immediately. It gave me food for thought and a bunch of ideas about what to do next. (I'm envisioning postcards blu-tacked onto a wall as I mix up chapters and work out a new layout of reveals. Exciting!) 

So there we go. Two days into a three-week break and by simply reading a novel for pleasure again, I've had a creative boost that will help the next steps of my book. All English teachers know this to be true. If a child reads books, they will have the tools to write. If they don't read, then they won't. So I've got three weeks of reading ahead of me which will provide me with replenished juices and a store cupboard of tools. And then, when I've emerge from that legging and hoody phase, blinking into the light, I'll be ready to rip up that first draft and write the hell out of the second. 

Have a lovely week, folks.

Join Me in my Sofa-Clinging...

Hello. Thanks for meeting at the assembly point. Shall we do a head count? No? All right, I'm sure we're all here. Just a bit more bloated and booze-soaked than this time last week.

It's that time of year of which I've become a big fan, the older I've got. As the circumstances of my Christmas period (not literally this year, whoop!) have changed, my post-Christmas days have gone from me being a bored and fed up child, to the middle-aged sofa-clinging security of nostalgic TV and a diet of picking at bits from the fridge. (My death row meal would definitely be picking at bits. FYI)

Here's what I posted this time last year. The first chunk of it is 2018 specific, but what follows is still true today. Christmas provides a TV planner that brims over with festive specials, old films from childhood, and this year's big budget dramas. If you want to remind yourself of Christmas past, then do click the link to see what I watched this time a year ago. Or, if you are rooted firmly in the present, then read on. Here's the festive TV that I am recommending this season. (Everything is available on catch up, streaming services, or cinema listings I think.)

Photo from BBC iPlayer

What We Were Watching, Christmas 1979 (BBC iPlayer)
This is the kind of thing I love circling in the Christmas Radio Times. It's a compilation show of clips of Christmas TV. This time they went with 1979; a year in which I was technically alive, although my memories are deeply repressed or non-existent. (I was one.) Packaged up as a fun look at yesteryear's fashions and TV craziness, it's actually a fascinating historical source. Grace Dent starts the intro by showing us Penelope Keith start the intro in 1979 for a similar retrospective of the seventies. It's all very meta. Then we're thrown into clips from Hi Di Hi, Tomorrow's World, Doctor Who, Butterflies, and Parkinson. It's properly absorbing and perfect to watch with a mince pie and fairy lights.

Photo from the BBC iPlayer

Gavin and Stacey (BBC iPlayer)
This was broadcast on prime time Christmas Day so was the flagship hope of the BBC. I, on the other hand, only got to watch it on 27th. I was full of food and entirely horizontal, and not sure I was in the right emotional place for seeing one of my favourite series of the 21st century cock up their come-back. But then I watched it and everything was OK. (Not everything obvs. There was a problematic use of a problematic word in a song I like apart from that word's inclusion. Weird that the creative choice was to leave it in, but there we are.) When I say, everything was OK, I don't mean 'adequate' or 'satisfactory'. I mean all my worries were unfounded. Ten years on in the lives of fictional characters is hard to get right. They aren't the same people they were then, but they have to be the essence of who they were. They have to convince the audience that this is the way their lives and their circumstances have changed and aged. I think Ruth Jones and James Corden nailed it. Plus, there were lots of lovely nods to the previous series, that made me remember how much I'd enjoyed it back then. Tidy.

Photo from the BBC iPlayer

Neil Brand's Sound of Movie Musicals (BBC iPlayer)
About three years ago, in the post-Christmas relax, I got flu. Proper can't-lift-my-head-off-the-pillow flu. I managed to stir myself every few hours to take a bunch of painkillers and fever-busters, and then lie back down again. It wasn't fun. In that very hazy week before New Year, I discovered Neil Brand's music programmes. Back then it was about musicals in general. I could concentrate on nothing for long, but watching him very technically and brilliantly explain in a very accessible and enjoyable way how particular notes in particular broadway numbers take the audience to different places, was fascinating. I was incapable of anything that required real concentration but his three part series was spot on. Fast forward to this year, and he's at it again. This three-parter is about Movie Musicals. Watch him discuss the choreography of Busby Berkeley, the opening shot of The Sound of Music, or the rise of Russian musical movies, whilst pinning them to social and political events of the time. It's another historical commentary, packaged up as a bit of musical fun. I can't recommend it highly enough. And it was so nice to watch this year, without being stricken with lurgy.

Photo from BBC iPlayer

Evil Under the Sun (BBC iPlayer)
This is exactly what Christmas telly's about, for me. The 27th came around. I waved off my house guests and sprinted (lol. As if. Shuffled, lumbered or crawled is more accurate) to the kettle and then to the sofa. Peter Ustinov was on my telly and I was ready to devour him. Ustinov is my favourite Poirot. I have a real soft spot for johnny-come-lately Branagh, and some of the others are perfectly fine, but Ustinov was my first. You never forget your first. And, I am pretty sure, I encountered my first Poirot on a New Year's Eve in the eighties, whilst being baby-sat by my Grandma. It wasn't Ustinov's Evil Under the Sun that I watched that first time, but it doesn't matter. He didn't do that many of them and they are all brilliant. So when I saw that this was on TV just as my viewing schedule had opened up, I was absolutely going to watch it. There's something beautiful about saying goodbye to house guests. I love the frenzied banter and multi-conversational hubbub of a roomful of siblings, partners and kids. It's hilarious chaos. But when they've all gone, and the house is more or less back to normal, and there's a big mug of tea next to you, and you're lying under a fluffy blanket on the sofa, and Peter Ustinov is Poiroting all over your telly? Well. I can't even put into words how sweet that moment is. So I'll stop.

Photo from Netflix

Two Popes (Netflix)
Right then, back on track. This was dropped by Netflix on Christmas Eve. It's hard to have fourteen years of Catholic education under your belt without being the slightest bit intrigued by the comings and goings in the Vatican, even if you don't share a world view with the key players these days. Besides that, a couple of years ago I read Robert Harris' Conclave which was a fabulously gossipy thriller of a book set behind the closed doors as the cardinals came together to choose a new fictional pope. All intriguing and dramatic stuff. So, Two Popes. Any good? Hell yeah. Anthony Hopkins plays Benedict  XVI, and Jonathan Pryce is Joseph, the current pope. This film lays out the kind of thing that might have happened during the election and subsequent resignation of Benedict. It feels authentic even though I assume it's based on what could have happened rather than what did. The head to head scenes between the two men are dramatic, powerful, full of pathos as well as humour. Regardless of your stance on the Catholic church, it drags you in and shows you the men behind the titles. Truly riveting stuff.

Little Women (general release from 26th December)
My plan had been to do a cinema trip between Christmas and New Year to see Knives Out for a third time. It was quite the kick in the teeth when I found all my local cinemas had stopped showing it. Slightly disappointedly, I went with my backup plan, Little Women. Here's some context. I first read the novel in my thirties which I've realised is far too old for a newby reader. I just never got it. I didn't care enough about the lives of the characters like I would have done had I been at a similar age. I've watched a few screen versions since, but I was still a bit meh. This new attempt didn't give me any reason to think it would be better, except one of my favourite directors was at the helm. Greta Gerwig is brilliant and I was willing to see what she did with it to make me care. And here's the thing. I massively cared! Greta Gerwig worked some magic, I can tell you. Properly absorbing, emotional, funny, and the exact thing I would have liked to have circled in my Radio Times and watched on the sofa instead. It was everything a big budget Christmas adaptation should be, except in the cinema. For anyone else unconvinced, let me explain that the film comprises of both parts of Little Women (I did not know there was a second part) and is shown in a split-timeline narrative. This immediately raises its game considerably. Then there are the brilliant directorial choices and flourishes that litter the film.  From the family walking straight past the pious churchgoers on Christmas day, as they donate their breakfast to a family in need, to the way we see Jo March represent Loiusa May Alcott in scenes with her editor. It was a great. Finally, the lingering camera work that takes place during the printing, binding, and creating of Jo's book, contrasts massively with her blink-and-you-miss-it romantic denouement. It's simply delicious. I loved this film a lot and I really thought it would bore me. So there we have it.

Official Christmas festivities may be over, but it's all going to be OK. I've still got half a planner of stuff to catch up on, and my fridge of bits is hanging in there. Resolutions and worthy thoughts will start to dominate soon enough, but for now, if you are able, enjoy the down time. Happy New Year everybody, and remember...

...have a lovely week, folks.

Merry Christmas, Ya Filthy Animals...

Smash Hits posters informed this shot.

Just a quick one this week. I imagine there are sighs of relief all round. I know, I get it. We've all got places to be and selection packs to eat. The festive party food needs heating up because, even if it's still whole days before the shops shut for half a minute, it's much more fun to have six brie and cranberry parcels for tea instead of something more balanced and vegetable-inclusive.

But enough of my Monday night food plans. I'm here to spread cheer and goodwill. Sadly the traditional seasonal Bond photo I've unearthed seems a little... what's the word I'm looking for?...brooding. Here I am, giving my best moody leotard Christmas pose, watched on by my grandmothers who are clearly humouring my attempts at serious modelling.

We can tell it's Christmas because both Grandmothers are in the same room of the same house. There's also the corner of a Christmas tree visible, top right. Beyond that, there's not much going on. Just feelings and angst. It's all a bit Brother Beyond.

I hope whatever shape your Christmas Day takes, that it's marvellous. Whether it's filled with people, stress, solitude, or the same as any other day because Christmas isn't your thing. 

For anyone not feeling quite so tiptop, and might want to connect with others, the #joinin hashtag on Twitter gets people chatting. It's great, especially when Christmas Day isn't feeling as good as it might, or is less social that you'd prefer. 

And once again, look out for the #duvetknowitschristmas* hashtag. People upload a photo of their makeshift sleeping arrangements as they return to the homes of their childhood and find their old bedroom has been turned into a craft room. No one will be screaming into their Twitter echo chamber about politics when people are busy sharing photos of their parents' study, with a double airbed and tablecloth bedcover wedged in at an awkward angle under a writing desk. It's as cockle-warming as all get out. Trust me. (And raises money for Shelter too. Win.)

All that's left to say is have a great Wednesday. May all your leotard poses be as intense and committed as mine.

Have a lovely week, folks.

*This article explains more, if you can't be faffed going on Twitter.

What's the Opposite of an Early Adopter?...

Me and Shiv have so much in common.

Oooh it's hard to admit you're wrong, innit. I usually find I am right about everything so it's rarely an issue for me. (LOLZ). But here we are. I've come to realise I've had a big change of heart about something, and it's odd. I'm having to rethink everything from scratch. Both disconcerting and liberating all at once. A brave new world is there for the taking. I'm going in.

Reader, I'm talking about e-readers. Yes, that's the life and death issue that I've been grappling with. To Kindle or not to Kindle? That is the question. You see I've been against them for as long as they've been around, and now... well not so much.

Someone is staring at
you in Personal Growth.

We can't lose bookshops because
then one of the best lines from
this film won't work anymore.

We all know the arguments from back in the day; paper books feel better, curling up with a good book doesn't work when holding a screen, high street bookshops will suffer. I still feel all those sentiments, especially the last one. The loss of Borders is right up there with all my bereavements (sorry Grandma*) and so I never buy books from supermarkets or online bookshops. When a book is published that I want to read, I drive into town, and go to Waterstones, or an indie bookshop if they're stocking it. That's been my rule for ages. I also want the author to be paid their royalties so I don't buy new releases second hand. 

Except now I see things differently. Due to my exceptional hypocrisy - I don't buy books on the biggest online book store, but I sell my own books on there - I know a bit about royalties. Authors tend to get paid more for ebook sales than paper ones. They are much cheaper to buy but there are way less costs. So an ebook sale works out well for the writer. Then there's the bit about reading pleasure. Not sure when, but over the last decade or so, I've found myself reading significantly less than I used to. It might be because I decided I'll only buy books after a half hour drive into the nearest city. Or it might be because the time I used to spend reading fiction, is now taken up with Twitter. Probably that to be honest. I've never been so politically informed than I am right now, but I've never read so little fiction at any point in my life.

Fans of my monthly newsletter (subscribe in the subscribe box above!) will see I list three things I've read every month. These are rarely three books. Usually there's a long read article, or a tweet thread. Something bite-sized like that. Yet ten years ago, when I was teaching full time, I would see off a novel a week. Again, that was BT. (Before Twitter.) 

I know what books I mean,
even if the title and author
details are sketchy in my notes.

So here we are. It's Christmas time. My sister got my name in the family Not-Secret-Santa-Draw and asked me what I wanted. I decided to take the leap, and in the binary opposite of an early adopter, finally asked to be Kindled up.

I'm actually excited. I've made a list of books I would not have got around to buying if I didn't have a Kindle. That way no bricks and mortar bookshop will lose the sale. And I'm determined that I will keep up the effort. I have to read more than I currently do. If I don't read I can't write. That's just science. 2020 is going to be the year I get back to losing myself in books. I still plan to buy paper versions of things I am really excited to read, but alongside that I'll have the stuff I've taken a chance on. The stuff that will fill train journeys and sleepless nights. That's the plan anyway. Subscribe to the newsletter (get the weekly blog thrown in too) and you'll be able to check whether I stick to my word. 

Have a lovely week, folks.

*OBVS I am joking.