Nano musings... the role of fan fic in my writing...

The day before NaNo kicks of and, unsurprisingly, I’ve been thinking more and more about writing, particularly my own… (no honestly, not to stem the rising feeling of “What am I thinking??”).

I’ve always scribbled for my own amusement, my mother a couple of months back was cleaning out the attic and found one of the earliest things I wrote (a time slip type murder story) when I was about 10 following a visit to a ruined castle.  It’s actually not that bad for a 10 year old.

I more or less stopped writing at the age of 14, thanks to an English teacher who was very dismissive of my work and consistently marked it two grades below where it should have been (In the end I had to have all of my coursework re-marked externally to prove that she was deliberately doing this).  This left me with a huge crisis of confidence over whether I could write which unfortunately persists today (And is probably the reason why despite having written, had proof read and edited, a novel which I am still not confident enough about to send out to an agent, despite the frequent nagging of my beta readers/guinea pigs – it’s not even due to a fear of rejection, that happens to everyone, but more because I can’t get my head round the fact that it might be good enough).

Anyway, roll forward to my days of spending more time on line and discovering the joys of bulletin boards and fan websites.  I started writing again in 2002, my first attempts at fan fiction… which were nearly all in the YA/Children’s genres (my original work tends to be YA/Fantasy).  Since then, fan fiction wise, I’ve written several short stories, some proper 100 word drabbles (which are harder than I thought), and with the help of an adopted plot bunny 2 full length finished pieces and 1 not quite finished… I’ve also written a couple of crossovers between authors and genres (fun but very hard to keep your head straight).  My fan fiction was posted on line and I had a lot of help, encouragement and support from the other site users which helped my confidence… or at least with the fan fiction (the only original work I’ve posted on line was a 300 word short shot story)

Even when I fan fic it’s tended to be developing a character after they’ve left the setting that the author portrayed them in or moving say the main setting of the book and some characters to the modern day and then adding a whole new set of characters.  I am not overly keen on putting my story into the middle of the author’s own words… (Really not big on the whole phenomenon of fill in stories by other authors or a new author continuing a series after the original author died)

One thing that I don’t think I will ever do again is to fan fic the work of a living author, particularly one who is still writing about the characters... I did this in the crossover I wrote and then panicked somewhat when another site user pointed out that this particular author frequently searched for fan fics and read them…..

It’s a combination of the fear of upsetting an author whose work I enjoy and the fact that I don’t think it’s particularly fair… I wouldn’t particularly like it if someone did it with character’s I’d spent the time nurturing to life and writing about (though this doesn’t stop me from having evil plot bunnies that plant ideas they shouldn’t… such as  - How does Rex the Hamster in the Stephanie Plum novels by Janet Evanovich live so long? - I am sure Ranger has a secret Rex breeding project so he and Morelli can replace Rex each time he dies…… Or the more recent one about what happens if Zane & Ty from the Cut & Run books of Urban & Roux got seconded to NCIS….)

I am looking forward to starting NaNo tomorrow… and for the first time trying my hand at writing something not in the YA/Children’s Genre… I am not so sure that if I do finish, or even get part way through, what I write will ever see the light of day outside of my own computer.

NaNo preparations and plotting...

Having read back yesterday's rather needy and pathetically whining post I was tempted to delete it and pretend it hadn't happened... but, after thinking some more I decided, no in fact I should leave it... if nothing else, it will perhaps serve as a reminder that I have moved on the next time she phones!

OK, onwards and upwards.  Today has been one of indulgence on my part, I went for coffee and gossiping and then have spent the afternoon reading (finished A Bit of Rough by Laura Baumbach, and then someone re-tweeted a link to MLR's free read for today, which was Cheating Chance by James Buchanan... have now moved on to Roughousing (sequel to Bit of Rough) because I am a completest and my OCD tendencies kick in strongly at times like this and I will buy all books in a short series in one go, even if I've no idea if I'll like the books)

I have also been plotting for NaNo.  I think I am pretty much set on the contemporary M/M story... I have the main character's bio's outlined, I have pictures to represent them and I have relevant song lyrics and other inspirational things all ready to put up on the wall in the kitchen above my lap top tomorrow.

My plan is to write first thing in the morning before I go to work.  With the clocks going back tonight and the dogs not understanding the whole concept of an extra hour in bed I shall be up at silly o'clock for at least a week till they sort out their body clocks, I am guessing I can get at least a couple of hours in between walking them and having to get ready for work... providing I can avoid being distracted by the wonders of the interweb.

So that's it, all set, I think, I hope..... oh except one small thing... trying to work out whether to write first person from just one character's pov or whether to use third person and then I can have both points of view, and anyone else's whose passing for that matter.  I can and have written in both before, but in first person I have only ever written female characters and I wonder how difficult it will be to write a male character first person.. oh well, I've, oh 2 days left to work that one out!

The Ex strikes again..........

Well that was fun... not!  I've just been subjected to a sympathy phone call from my ex... which shouldn't really be an issue, but for some reason still after over three years, it kind of is.

Don't get me wrong, it's not a "woe, I'm still in love with her" kind of issue, hell I can pin point exactly the day I realised I didn't love her anymore (we were having an argument and I went to leave and she physically grabbed me and pulled me back across the kitchen - I don't do violence in any shape or form). It's more a realisation of exactly what the cost of the whole fiasco of a relationship was to me.

I'm not talking financial cost, though that was staggeringly high (she moved in with me she'd just had her house repossessed, when we split somehow ended up with our 5 bedroom house), and I was the one who she told all our friends, my family, hell casual acquaintances, was no good with money... and like a fool I handed over control of my wages and bank account.... yep really wise to do when you know the other person has several CCJ's, a repossessed property and a company in liquidation. I was truly that stupid and naive.

No, this is more about the personal cost, and every fucking time she phones, with this smirky gloat in her voice, you know the one with a hint of pity cos she's doing you a favour talking to you, I can't help but realise how much I've lost. 

3 years, and I am still trying to find my way back to what I was before we started a relationship 6 years before that... 9 years, that long that sometimes I really don't know if I will ever find my way back to who I was.  Hell I'm not sure I still remember.  I've only one friend that remembers me from before then - my other friends she carefully alienated and kept me away from.  I couldn't make approaches to them now if I wanted to because of the things she told them.

She even used to phone my parents and my sister and tell them how worried she was that I was psychotic and a danger to myself.  She threatened to have me sectioned after one argument.... shocked the hell out of me at the time, now I know better.  All she ever wanted was for me to give up work and become her full time cook, cleaner and kennel maid... I'd say housewife, but that sort of implies a level of partnership in the relationship, but we hadn't had that for along time.

I'm glad I am not still trapped there, the last 12 months, when she'd moved in her new girlfriend, now wife, were pure hell... I don't know why I ever thought we should at least try to remain "friends", possibly because we have a lot of other friends in common, perhaps because my parents despite the divorce are still friends (though hers aren't in fact the can't even stand to be in the same country as each other... I should have taken more note of that).

I know that I am strong enough to find myself again, I can do this.  I have a new home, a new life, new friends, but 30 minutes of listening to her on the phone and it all comes back, all the things I can't do, all the things I do wrong, all the reasons why I am not worth anything to anyone.... why didn't I just put the phone down?

Change of plans...

I had plans for a blog post this evening that was related to writing - fan fiction/fillers and original work to be precise... but I should know better than to plan ahead!

It's been an "interesting" couple of days in the whole "these things only happen to me" kind of way.  Tuesday I got volunteered to make a large birthday cake, which as a result saw me making butter icing and decorating said cake (Pink Glitter Icing!!) at 5.30 am on Wednesday - cos like that's a normal time to get up and ice a cake isn't it?

Then on the way into work, somehow, I managed to cut my leg with the carving knife... it was for the cake, I don't usually carry a carving knife... I'd dropped it into the plastic bag with the cake just before I left for work and somehow, between the car park and my desk I, erm, well, stabbed myself a bit..

My natural inclination to blow up anything remotely electrical struck on the way back to the car the same night... got in the lift, punched the button for the fifth floor, the doors closed.... and all the freaking lights went out in the lift.  Before I could grope around on the control panel it started moving so I held my breath and hoped that when it stopped I would be on the right floor.  Ok, yes, I'll admit to being a little scared.

Things were going well this morning, I made it to my desk without incident... hurrah.. opened my bag, to discover my yoghurt had exploded all over everything..... emergency rescue of book, mp3 player and phone (in that order)

I had no plans for this evening save for walking rent a mob in the pouring ran and then chilling out with a book.... until my mother texted at about 3 pm to ask if I'd mind taking her to the minor injuries unit as she'd "hurt her finger".  So, I got to spend 2 hours in a hospital waiting room whilst she was prodded and x-rayed, she's got a chip fracture to her index finger on her right hand and has torn the ligaments... but she's fine, she says, only now she's sulking cos I've taken her car keys away to stop her from driving till she's fixed.

The other side of this evenings visit was amusing though.  Without thinking both of us took books out of our bags in reception, she then swiped mine with the words "What are you reading?"  (It was A Bit of Rough by Laura Baumbach)... queue me, in the middle of the waiting room, having to explain to my mother all about the M/M Genre... thank goodness neither of us embarrass easily.... the same can't be said for those sitting round us I'm afraid.

Now my mother is very open minded for a 74 year old and wants to try reading some M/M books - I thought I'd start her with Tere Michaels Faith and Fidelity Series.... any other suggestions of what to start her with welcome... I just hope when she's read some (she will, she won't just try one) she'll not try her new found knowledge of gay sex out on anyone unsuspecting!

Midweek Musical Mumble

Apparently it’s only about 8 weeks to Christmas… sheesh, where has this year gone?... and my mother has declared that she needs me to provide us with a list of small items I want for Christmas (and no apparently Amazon vouchers isn’t a sensible answer apparently… )

This means I’ve been flitting about the net looking at which bands are releasing new material in the near future, so far I’ve added to my wish list Florence and the Machine, Snow Patrol, Evanescence. 

This year has been a good one for albums that I’ve bought, amongst them Elbow, Death Cab for Cutie, Foo Fighters, REM, The Vaccines, Horrors, Guillemots, Little Comets ….. (ooh, future blog post topic towards the end of the year, I can review favourites). 

There are several of my favourite bands that I am hoping for new material from next year (Frightened Rabbit, Biffy Clyro, Killers, Detroit Social Club, Editors, Doves, Foals). Hopefully not in the same month though as I will be sticking to my self imposed edict of 1 CD purchase per month.

So, to finish, for no other reason than I was listening to this today, one of my favourite tracks from Foals last album….

Unsocial Networking and Lurking....

Last night I deactivated my face book account.  There was no drama, no panic, in fact probably no real reason to do so.  Simple truth was, as I don’t play games, as I don’t really use the status updates/friends/chat things (and as I really didn’t appreciate back in June finding out through my dad’s partner’s page that she and my dad had gotten married without telling me or my sister) I didn’t really see the point.  I wasn’t using the site, it was just sitting there, with my details on it – and given the ever changing security issues I just thought to myself… what is the point? As I couldn’t find a reasonable answer I deactivated.    So yes, unsociable networking!

I’ve been playing around on the internet for what seems like since it came into common use; as far back as 1993 I was part of a group of students who had a very basic bulletin board and live chat system that linked up about 5 universities – through which I made friends I still have today.  However, as time has gone on the net has grown and changed massively, as have my interests and outlooks…

These days I suppose more than anything I am a lurker…. in an internet sense, not in a darkened alleyways kind of thing … I am a member of various forums (in particular those in relation to books, music, dogs and knitting – grief I really am very boring), as well belonging to several Yahoo groups.  Myspace and Bebo passed me by.

I blog here, and in the past have blogged elsewhere, I read a lot of blogs other people write and am known to follow links around the net till I can’t get back to where I started.  Blogs interest me, both those which promote the blogger as part of their work, those that inform, and those which are essentially a personal record of the blogger (rather like this one is).  Someone tweeted last night whether we thought she should capitalise her subject headings on her blog... but as I replied, I subscribe to the “it’s my blog and I’ll post what I damn well please” school of thought and she should do what she wanted to, not necessarily what was expected.

Aside from this blog, the only exception I have to my status as a lurker/unsociable networker is Twitter – for some reason I seem to be able to tweet incoherently on a far too regular basis.  I guess because it’s in real time, it’s only 140 words, in which it is quite hard to piss someone else off! (No this blog and my Twitter account aren’t linked – it is possible to work back one way or another and connect them, but there is no definitive link – why? Because I have work colleagues and some friends on my Twitter feed who might feel uncomfortable with some of the things I blog about).

I used to post regularly on some sites, and joined in with meet ups arranged by one book group (why yes, I did freak my family out – you are going away for a weekend with a group of people you met on the net, are you mad?).  So why am I “only” a lurker these days?  It’s not that I no longer have opinions, thoughts or in rare cases relevant experience.  I will occasionally post, but I am not going to answer every post, comment on every thread, on every site I visit.  If the site, forum or group is a large one, or has a very obvious clique of people that it’s just not worth going up against then I won’t post - a lot of it has to do with the fact that I am a wimp.  I don’t like arguments; I don’t want shooting down in flames if I say something that is not agreed with, life is too short to upset myself this way.  There is also a fear of being misinterpreted – with group users all over the world, sometimes the way something is said is taken completely the wrong way, something said with genuine intent appears sarcastic, or something said in fun is taken the wrong way (usually for the lack of an emote).  It’s a case of been there, done that, slunk off and licked my metaphorical wounds, don’t want to rinse and repeat.

In nearly 20 years of using the net (during which time I have actively moderated several sites as an independent moderator with no interest in the subject of the site itself) I’ve made lots of friends, both virtual and eventually in some cases in real life.  I’ve only ever come across a handful of people who are not genuine, those who rather than having something to say just have axes to grind or who are just there to troll.  These are usually fairly easy to spot.  Lying on the net is no different from lying in real life – sooner or later you will mix your stories up and it will come back to bite you on the bum.  Okay so I probably leave myself wide open to being fooled, but until I’ve evidence to the contrary I am not going to jump to any conclusions about anyone or anything. 

A little tolerance and forethought goes quite a long way.  I sometimes wish you got a pop up box that said “are you sure you want to post this”.  Just taking time to think about what you are saying, to ask yourself is this post going to hurt someone? Do I need to say this?  It’s easy to be judgmental or to make accusations about someone when you aren’t in the same room – but would you walk up to someone you only knew in passing and make the same statement to their faces?  My other bug bear is that although everyone makes mistakes, yes really, everyone, very few seem to be capable of saying “I’m sorry, I was wrong.”  Wouldn’t it make the net a nicer place to lurk.

Sometimes there is minor ranting....

We had an outbreak of children in the office today - that is to say, someone dropped in on their day off bringing their kids with them, then there were the photos of the new baby born last week to one of my other colleagues.  So as we all fawned over said children I ended up with one hanging onto my arm, at which point someone turned round and said with some surprise "You're actually really good with kids!"

The conversation then went via, "it's a pity you won't have children of your own" to "oh, at least you've got the dogs."  At which point my boss told us to go back to work whilst I gritted my teeth and stewed furiously about what was said.

Firstly, yes, I am actually good with children... I actually had every intention of becoming a primary school teacher - until I messed up my A Levels that is.

So far as "it's a pity I won't have children goes" .... erm, won't?  FFS these people work in a firm that runs regular seminars on pink parenting!  Thing is, what they don't realise is that in my case it's not a case of won't but rather can't - as I discovered the hard way.  Technically I should have a 17 year old daughter, but after a miscarriage at 5 months they discovered that my immune system is so wonderfully screwed up that i would never carry a child to term as my own body won't tolerate the "invader". 

Looking back now yeah, sure I have regrets, but I couldn't have offered a stable home at 20 years old. Added to which my child was the result of a pity fuck (best friend at Uni, he wasn't coming back to complete his degree and we didn't know if we'd see each other again after the summer and well, one thing lead to another...) plus the week after I lost her I have horribly vivid memories of standing in a phone box (yep, I'm old it was pre mobiles being something everyone had) on a dark, wet February night and him telling me that he'd be getting married in the summer to a divorcee with two young kids... I figured he probably didn't need or want to know...

It took a long time to accept I'd never have kids, hell for about 8 years I couldn't go near babies - until I had no choice and ended up being a friend's birthing partner when she went into labour and her drunken husband got thrown out the hospital. 

Then there was the last comment - my dogs, sheesh, they are dogs people, not children, they aren't human, they don't grow up (well they do in their own way) and as much as I love them and technically they are part of my family, they are still, you know, dogs.

I am quite happy to live vicariously through other peoples children and can let my maternal instinct run wild with my friends kids.  It has been noted that I will "mother" anyone - it doesn't even need to be children - hell throw the right expression at me and I tend to go on autopilot (which some of my adopted net family discovered to their advantage at meet ups) ... I am also a "feeder"  if you sit still long enough in my vicinity I will try and ply you with food and drink, hell I even make up care packages.

Coundown to NanoWriMo.... planning

It will be November in just over a week (which reminds me, must buy my sister's birthday present) and the start of NaNo - 50,000 words of "novel" in a month... I signed up for this why?

Okay, so anyway, today I have been planning.  Whilst I have 2 stories on the go at present (part 2 of Guardians of Hope - YA fantasy(ish) and In Between - againYA, but contemporaryish) these have parts written so I can't use them.

I sifted through the voices in my head, asking if anyone had any strong desire to be heard during November (yep, that's as far as planning on a story gets - I write what I'm told... it works for me). Anyway they came through with three potentials to chose from.

- A contemporary M/M story for which my inspiration some of the lyrics from song Keep Yourself Warm by Frightened Rabbit. 

- A fantasy story involving a rare male Dryad who when reaching his majority and the obligation to bind with another refuses the spellcaster's daughter and is subsequently locked out of his tree and will die if he can't find a mate of his own choosing and get back into it.

- A re-telling of Little Red Riding Hood - involving an all to knowing grandmother, a lonely werewolf, an overbearing tree surgeon and a stroppy twink in a red hoody.


I have a few issues with all three so not sure - the first could prove difficult to write if my characters take me where they are indicating and could cause some triggering issues of domestic violence and eating disorders.  The second I am not sure where it's going at all, save for it's going to involve some fun world building.  As for the third I'm not sure if i can get to the word count and am struggling over setting (being in the UK I write in settings I'm familiar with if I am basing them in the real world - the UK has no wild wolves, big game is not freely roaming the countryside and hunting with dogs is illegal).


So whilst I stew over that I am going to turn my kitchen table round to face the wall and find some inspirational photographs, lyrics, maps etc to pin up on the wall above the lap top.

Spiralling out of control

Sometimes, it's the little things that make you step back and think....  Like sorting the laundry and discovering that for the last four days every item of clothing I've worn has been black, or trying to remember when I last ate something sensible, or the fact that aside from work I've not really been out the house for over a week, or getting overwhelmed with feeling of guilt due to other people's issues, which I didn't contribute to and as much as I'd like to help I actually can't.

Something felt off when i got up this morning, I walked the dogs in the dark under the moonlight, which is something I love doing, but today, well, I just felt completely numb. Then later when I looked at the shelf at the end of the bath I realised exactly how much shower gel I'd bought recently (I've mentioned my "addiction" to shower gel before - but basically, it's a coping strategy because I could oh so very easily go out and spend money on much more harmful things).  So, I forced myself to go read back the last week or two's worth of overnight scribblings - one of my counsellors a few years back suggested that in my insomniac moments, when my head is just too full of thoughts to sleep, I write my thoughts as a sort of mind dump.  Usually I don't read back as it can be kind of scary, but I'm kind of glad I did today as I could see that what I'd been writing had been getting darker over the last few weeks.

All this made be admit that things were perhaps spiralling out of control again, but it was fine, I could cope with this, I didn't need to do anything.... I forced myself out the house to go shopping (thank goodness for my critters - having to be here for them, to feed them, to care for them, keeps me grounded) and although I felt like I was on the verge of crying for no reason a lot of the time I held it together.  Until that is the stupid cow on the check out decided not to wait for me to finish loading as I'd asked but started to put my stuff through and fling it down to the other end.  By the time I'd paid my hands were shaking so badly I couldn't key in the pin to pay and I was in tears before I got to the car - which got even more strange looks and small children pointing at me than usual.

So yes, I think I can safely say that my depression is paying another visit, hell I might as well have had someone leaping up and down next to me telling me.  I've had it for years, on and off, and it's usually kept in check, but I probably should have recognised the signs before today and acted on them rather than pretending it wasn't happening.

Which brings me to the reason for this post.... by writing and posting this here I have said it out loud, rather than smiling and telling myself and everyone around me that everything is ok.  Baby steps, but I have to take the first one to get through it.

Lost for Words

Today has reminded me of the power of words - spoken, written and read.  The saying goes that the pen is mightier than the sword, and whilst it's not something I'm willing to test in a duel, words certainly can cut deep.

The Internet is a wonderful thing... but at the same time it's a dangerous playground.  When you release words, thoughts, emotions onto the net it's done when staring at a blank screen and not thinking to hard who is reading. 

If you could look through your computer, through the net, through the back of the computer into the eyes of the person reading at the other end... would you continue?  Would you say to someones face what you type? Someone you don't really know?  Someone you've never met in person? 

The Internet gives anyone who uses it power..... thinking before typing, before hitting send, before posting, it doesn't take a a second, yet it's so easily over looked.

Tact and I weren't really on speaking terms when I was younger and my mother had a phrase she used to repeat to me quite frequently - Engage brain before opening mouth.  I know from bitter experience that you can't take back what you've said online - and I'm sorry to say I've been on both sides - I learnt from my experiences I can only hope that after what I've witnessed today others can learn from theirs.


I think an evening off the net is called for, my books arrived from Dreamspinner today (and I've just discovered that they are all autographed) so I am going to lose myself in other peoples words that can't hurt anyone for a while.

She's Electric

It was freezing out first thing this morning, so after washing my hair I thought I'd best make an effort and dry it so that I didn't freeze whilst the car warmed up on the way to work.

So I plugged in the hair dryer
and flipped my hair over
and turned on the dryer
there was an odd smell
then a loud bang
at which point the smoke alarms went off
the lights upstairs fused
the house alarm went off
and I landed on my backside in the middle of the landing.

So, I went to work with wet hair
Once I'd found a poking object to turn off the smoke alarms
and remembered where i'd put the alarm code for safe keeping


I have now added hair dryers to the growing list of electrical items it's seriously not worth me owning because they blow up as soon as I touch them....

Fluffiness.....

Seeing as one of the things I talk (moan, rant etc...) about on this blog (and the only things I'll actually name) are the critters I share my home with I thought I might introduce them properly

These are the reason why I get up at stupid hours of the morning, why my house is always a mess, and who are guaranteed to put a smile on my face and make me feel loved without asking more than a cuddle and some food..... Collectively they are known as Rent-a-Mob (they can be borrowed to go round to other peoples houses and remind them why they don't own dogs) or The Canine Demolition Squad (which needs no explanation whatsoever)...

So ....

Ivan
The Terrible
Well no not really as he's a complete
wuss and more commonly known
as Pants

Gretchen
Devil Dog, Mistress of Chaos and Darkness
Evil Hell Spawn and Destroyer of anything
paper
(and possibly my favourite!)

       







                  

Kammi
The Original Dumb Blond Dog!

Hope
Evil Minion in Training
and far too fond of the sound
of her own voice

Now, as if that wasn't enough for anyone person, whilst the dogs live downstairs, upstairs, lurking (usually under the duvet) are the total opposites to the fluff above....

They insist they get an introduction too....

 These are Gina (left) and her son Hugo (right) who are both pre-loved sphynx cats who have tried very hard to run the entire household for the last 2 and a bit years.

(Don't) Mind The Gap

My work colleagues are by now pretty well aware that I am extremely broad minded about, well, everything.  They also know that I am just about un-shockable, but this doesn’t stop them from trying. 

(As an aside, they are not un-shockable, as I was recently reminded when I was standing with a small group I don’t spend much time with.  The only other female in the group made a catty comment about someone across the room perhaps forgetting her skirt as she appeared to be just wearing fairly thin and revealing tights – my eyes, and those of the other three with us looked over and without thinking I said “she’s not my type, but she has got good enough legs to show off”… I got some quite strangely horrified looks from the others... ah well, their problem)

Anyway, take this morning and the latest gossip that someone’s new partner is considerably younger than they are.  The conversation went like this

Me: “Yes, and?”

Them: “It’s a bit weird, he must be about 15 years older than her.”

Me: *shrug*

Them: “don’t you think it’s a bit, well,” cue face pulling

Me: “No, not really.” 

I decided to ignore the gossip after that and actually do some work.

Now this got me thinking, about age gaps in relationships… both real and fictional (age gaps that is, not the relationship), and why I have no issues with this.

Two of the genres I read a lot of (historical and M/M) do frequently contain relationships where there is a discernable age difference – talking 10 years plus here. 

With historical fiction I tend to read the stories which stick pretty much to the fact based history (ok, yes, it gets glamorised but I am not talking about a romance that happens to be set in the middle ages if you see what I mean).  In these the main characters chosen will usually include a couple with a large age difference – usually the male older than the female (though Eleanor of Aquitaine’s marriage to Henry II is significant as she was much older than him). I also read quite a lot of historical non-fiction, mainly from 9^th to 15^th Century but with an interest in Saxon and Viking history as well – which does demonstrate that age differences in relationships was the norm for that time.

In M/M fiction the age difference of the MC’s is a fairly frequent occurrence (whether contemporary or paranormal stories), usually with the older more experienced character taking on a more dominant role in the relationship, although this does occasionally get turned around.  Ok, so whilst age is shown as an issue in the majority of these stories you are guaranteed your happy ending – be it HFN or HEA – which is not always the case in real life.

So far as personal experience goes, whilst the biggest age gap for me has only been 4 years, the age gap between my parents is significant, in that my mum is 14 years older than my dad and whilst their marriage lasted “only” 17 years to this day they remain very good friends.  Okay, these days my mother would have probably been prosecuted for abusing a position of trust, not to mention that they’d have had the tabloids camped on the doorstep, because of their relationship – she was a teacher at dad’s school and they met during a teachers strike whilst he was still a pupil.. they married when Dad was 19 and I came along before his 21st birthday. 

I have friends in relationships where there are age differences of 10 years plus, and whilst like all relationships they have their issues age rarely seems to be a factor internally, but it’s one which outsiders will highlight as soon as any difficulties do arise.

I also have friends in other types of relationships (not counting same sex ones here – more the polyamorous, married yet open, D/s type) which I think that my work colleagues would probably struggle to get their heads round, but hey, so long as everyone is happy inside the relationships what’s the problem?

In reality I believe that relationships, and falling in love with someone, are pretty fluid things. Whilst the initial attraction may be based on looks and/or personality, other aspects, such as the age, and in some circumstances the gender, of the other person are just part and parcel of the whole person and something that you should just accept. Then again, I also believe that age is only a number and that life experience, your personality and outlook can make you mentally much older or younger than the number of years you’ve actually lived.

Post holiday rantings........

First day back at work after a week off is always a killer.

There were 269 e-mails in my in box... which when I'd sorted through them only about 50 were remotely relevant to things I had to actually do.

Within minutes of arriving my team leader had presented me with a list of things to do and booked a meeting to discuss a particularly difficult client I am having to deal with - joy.  Apparently I am dealing with everyone brilliantly but can I just be extra brilliant just for this one moaning fricking pain in the arse high and mighty, precious, whining person who thinks she's some sort of superior being... I might as well just have "minion" tattooed across my forehead.

Oh, and there's three new files allocated to me, only two of which are urgent....you know, once I'm up to date with a weeks work of stuff that's been abandoned on my desk

So, I dealt with post, e-mails, phone calls, booked and had meetings, did some of the main type of work I do, whilst drinking far too much coffee and Pepsi max as I did it.

and then i came home....

...and discovered that trying to hold the oven open with my leg whilst lifting a heavy pan of pasta bake out the oven with a flimsy tea-towel was probably not a particularly sensible idea... the oven is fine, the pasta bake was very nice, my fingers and leg are a gnats, erm, burnt... but ok, I was sensible and when I'd finished hopping around the kitchen swearing went and put myself under the cold water.

So now I am buzzing from too much caffeine after a week of not very much at all and wondering if I am going to get any sleep tonight.

So remind me, I took a week's holiday why?

Mood music

It is Sunday, and I am distracting myself from the fact that I have to go back to work tomorrow and the possibility that my desk is going to look like an explosion in a paper factory, not to mention the 400 odd e-mails I will probably have to wade through.

So instead of worriting myself silly over it I have spent much of the day lost on the Discworld as I read the latest book - Snuff..... I have been a huge Discworld fan since I was handed the first two books back in about 1985 - yes I started "nerdhood" at an early age!

Aside from that I've been burning a CD of music to write to during NaNo, and in doing so I got to think a lot about the songs that inspire me.  It also reminded me why Biffy Clyro are one of my favourite bands - not just for the completely mad as a box of frogs lyrics they use either...

So, here you have one of my favorite tracks (not my all time favourite, that goes to Christopher's River which paints a very vivid picture for me that I may write about one day)...

Deadlines and procrastination.......

I am feeling all virtuous right now.  I've actually done my first assignment and forwarded it to my tutor for comment/permission to submit for marking....

So, said assignment, should have been done about 2 weeks ago as the deadline to send for marking is 1st November, and we are meant to allow our tutor's 28 days to come back to us, but hey, it's done.  Once I got my head in gear it wasn't too bad, though I'd probably have been able to do it in 3 hours not the 5 I took if I hadn't spent time faffing about on the interweb browsing stuff that I didn't need to look at, but I appear to have the attention span of a gnat when it comes to actually doing assignments. Not to mention the fact that I have an amazing ability to distract myself from what I'm meant to be doing in a sort of .... oh look, pretty... kind of way.

There are only 7 assignments to do, and 11 months to do them in, but each year I've found myself spending the last 4 weeks before the course deadline trying to do a huge amount of them that I left far too long.  I start out with good intentions, but I am really crap at keeping to non existent deadlines - saying they've all to be done by the end of July does not inspire me to rush out and get the damn things done asap.  I've promised myself I'll try harder this year.......

One of the reasons I want to get another assignment done quickly is I intend to take the whole of November off course work to do NaNoWriMo for the first time.  Unlike my assignments, this has a proper deadline, 1 month, 50,000 words... it actually works out at about 1700 words a day, which really when you look at it like that isn't too bad.

I have a 2 hour window each morning from about 5.30 am - 7.30 am where usually, post dog walk, I drink coffee and read before I have to get ready for work... instead during November I am going to use this to write, together with any other time I can wrangle - which will also reduce the number of books I am going through in a week!  I can't write whilst at work  - well i can, and have done in the past, but I feel guilty about it and at present we are very busy, not to mention the fact that if I do write a contemporary M/M piece the work filters on the e-mail will probably catch it quite swiftly as I try to smuggle it out to my home PC.

There are 2 weeks left to November, and I have some further bits to research.  Then I just have to hope that my characters want to speak to me as I write straight from their dictation, I can't do this planning out the story as it never turns out the way I want it to!

Right, enough, I need to take Ivan out for a long walk whilst it's still light, to relieve him of the frustrations of living with an in season Hope - which has left him with a serious case of fifth leg syndrome and me having to administer cold water and KY Jelly at regular intervals throughout the day!

Fridays positive thought..........

 

As I was kicking up leaves on the park this morning whilst walking the mob I was thinking about how lucky I was in where I lived.

2 miles from the centre of England's 6th largest city, yet only 3 miles in the other direction and I am in the Derbyshire Peak District. 

 

With scenes like this on my doorstep it makes me wonder sometimes why I waited so long to come back to the city I grew up in.

Photo below is Chatsworth House in the background

Unexpected post visitor thoughts....

As my last visitor left at 5 pm this evening my house feels very quiet and empty this evening, I say feels, because with rent-a-mob and the naked cats quiet and empty is a comparative thing.

I've loved having visitors, there has been lots of fun, laughter, talking, reading, knitting and generally good times.  Now they've gone, I'm feeling part down about it, but part relieved... which is also making me feel a little, well, guilty, kind of.  It seems wrong, having had such a good time to be pleased to have my house back to myself, it's also making me think a lot about my home life and current situation.  Maybe I am just antisocial at heart.

I'd thought a while back that I might be getting to the stage of trying to increase my social life, perhaps open my mind a bit to the possibility of finding someone to share my life with, but if I am being totally honest with myself (which is so something I am not good at), given the way I am feeling now the answer is a firm "no way" to the whole sharing my life on a personal level with someone. I am just not "there" yet - which isn't helped by the fact that it's my ex's 1st wedding anniversary this week, showing just how fast she manged to move on. 

What's worrying me more is that I am starting to feel that I might not ever be "there" at all.  I don't want to spend the rest of my life alone, but I am not so sure I can put myself in a position where I can let someone in that close.

Ok, enough with these thoughts, they are sounding too much like I am whining.  Shall go read, knit or generally try find something to take my mind off this subject.

It's just the little things....

Well, some of my visitors have gone home again now, the last one goes tomorrow, but as she is also a bookworm we are spending a lot of time reading and talking books, which we've kind of done all weekend. 

All three of them had a major nagging session at me on Monday about keeping up with my own writing, and specifically writing the continuation of the novel length piece I wrote, they've read, it's been basically edited and now I am far too chicken to submit it anywhere because on a personal level I don't feel that it's good enough (though in my heart of hearts given the current state of some YA/Children's books it probably is, but I am a chicken).

One of the things were were talking about was what bugs us about books we are reading, which for me boils down to two gripes, one minor one and one, totally personal, major one. 

The minor ones.... why can't authors keep their characters biography's straight?  Ok, so, the author of one of the series of children's books I read/collect is notorious for this - her characters age strangely, change family histories, sometimes even names... but these stories were written between about 1925 and 1960 when let's face it children's books were churned out by major publishing houses with not too much editing and proof reading.  These days, with agents and professional editors, not to mention beta readers, surely it should be something that's picked up on.

Two that have stood out recently for me was an MC explaining he cooked well because he was the youngest of four children and spent a lot of time with his mother, a few pages later the MC's are talking about whether their parents were alive, and the same MC explains that he was an only child arriving late in his parents life. 

The other one was two different spellings of the MC's name within a paragraph, yep on the same page, which is just poor editing really

So the major gripe, and personal one for me... because of my hobby I have spent the last 15 or so years learning a lot about dog breeds, canine and lupine behaviour, body language and anatomy as well as lupine pack structure (I don't subscribe to domestic dogs living in packs .. and I live in a multi-dog household).  This means I have huge issues with paranormal stories involving any form of wolf shifters, dog shifters or werewolves generally.  If the basics are wrong, particularly regarding body language and pack dynamics, which are easily researched, I'm afraid I end up getting so wound up by the book that I don't enjoy it (I'll still read it, cos hey, it's a book and this is what I do). 

The other part to this gripe is authors that spend an inordinate amount of time describing a dog in detail, only to then name it as a breed that it either doesn't match their physical description or doesn't exist in the time/country they have set their work in...

See, just the little things, but they can really ruin a good story.

The price of paper and ink...

My visitors and I are having a lazy Sunday afternoon, which means that half daughter and I are reading in the kitchen with the mob, whilst her mum has headed for a lie down upstairs (this maybe in part because from about 5 am this morning we were curled up on the sofas in our duvets watching the grand prix), so I thought I'd quickly blog about something we'd been discussing....

The price of "paper" books.  Books are a great love of both of ours - in fact we met via a book forum on the Internet some, erm, 8 ish years ago.  We both collect, worship, fail to dust books, though she now has a kindle she swears by (and sometimes at).  Anyway, as she prodded through my bookshelves this morning she noticed the shiny fairly new collection of books since she'd last visited and raised an eyebrow at me and asked how much had they set me back... mainly because she knows that for the last 18 months I've been on a book and CD diet only allowing myself to purchase one of each a month.

I was honest and told her, to which she gasped a bit, but not too much.  We both collect children's books, particularly GO genre, which can cost a fair bit as they are mainly out of print, however, these were new paperbacks, M/M genre and published mainly within the last 3 years books, cost on average approximately £10 each, which is, lets face it, is steep for a paper back.

However, these aren't books you can pick up in the supermarket, or even in most mainstream book shops... Amazon (UK) seems to put a premium on these books, in some cases for new books the dollar and sterling amounts are the same - making the UK equivalent about 1/3rd more expensive.  I've just ordered 4 recently published books directly from the US publisher, which even with postage will work out cheaper than buying on Amazon who won't actually have the paperbacks available to purchase for another 6 - 8 weeks.

Now I don't mind paying for a good book - The most I've ever spent on a single book (fiction - I've spent a lot more for certain non fiction books) is £35... but can prices of over £10 per book really be justified? Or is this just a way for Amazon to try and persuade us to buy a Kindle then fill it with the same books in e-format at a fraction of the price?

I remain in two minds about e-books but I am getting to the stage of resenting the cost of a non mainstream paperback ..... but I can't imagine not having books around the house, for me, books are one of the things that helps make my house a home.

An unplanned bits and pieces type post....

I didn't plan on posting today as I have been at a seminar all day (including 4 hours of driving - urgh, motorways, on a Friday evening at rush hour, with added rain and high winds - deep and abiding joy!).   

I am also waiting (very impatiently) for some visitors to arrive... however, at the last text they weren't even past the border and into England so it may be a while!  Said visitors, who are staying till Wednesday, are one of my best friends and her daughter, who is known as my half daughter - which probably sounds kind of odd.  In short, half daughter (hd), is an honorific given because, due to the fact she has severe autism and Aspergers Syndrome, she will not go to stay at anyones house outside her immediate family (read own home and maternal grandparents), except for some reason my house.  We also have similar tastes in music (which her mother moans about) and books (though she's only been really reading for pleasure for the last 2 years or so). I'm also the only person outside of the family that is honoured and trusted enough to get a hug. 

I've known them since hd was 10, and as a family they've been through some really shite times, but things are so much better for all of them now.  Hd is a truly remarkable young woman, extremely intelligent and very amusing, but she finds it very difficult to interact with people and on some levels she isn't anything like 17.  She and her mum (and the dog) are coming down for a break leaving the males in the family to look after the toddler :o).  Apparently my house is relaxing - oh so not sure the majority of people who visit here would agree with that - hell at one stage I was threatening to give out badges stating "I survived Rent-a-Mob".

So, I am looking forward to much rest and relaxation, some good gossip, some communal reading, knitting of socks, writing and from them possibly some nagging about submissions and the progress of the 2nd book. (Hd and mum both read for me  - and mum is my initial editor, sounding board and ego booster for insecure moments).


PS - after a comment on good-reads yesterday regarding not reading M/M books in public because of the cover art, I took "Bonds of Love" with me to the seminar today and sat in the foyer reading it quite openly... no one commented, in fact I didn't even notice anyone look twice at it....

The Sex to Storyline Ratio...

I appear to be continuing with my budding friendship with the man who does the early shift on the post office parcel collection point... he seemed quite pleased to see me yesterday morning when I went to pick up my books.  Though it was more likely that it was due to the fact that because I wanted my books I was nice, polite and cheerful ... unlike the grumpy sod who was in front of me in the queue who had just shouted at him.

Anyway, since then I have worked, gone to quiz night (we won the best team name prize, but not the actual quiz) and today I went to work again, but finished at lunch time..... and between those things I appear to have read all three of the books I picked up.  I did sleep, but apparently 5 hours is enough sleep ... or at least as much as I am getting anyway.

All this goes to highlight one of the problems I have discovered since I fell into reading M/M books about 6 months or so ago... they really are far too easy to read and don't really challenge me at all.  The other big problem is that they are bloody expensive - particularly when you read fast and buy paperbacks!

The books themselves were the Common Powers trilogy (Soul Bonds, Rush in the Dark, Edward, Unconditionally).... I tend not to review books, but suffice to say I liked them, particularly the idea behind the powers themselves but felt that this was just a hook to get you into the series, it didn't really develop anything outside of the relationship between the MCs. To be honest, had I not been a major complete series freak (and believe me, having favourite authors in other genres whose works run to 18 (ish) (crime), 30 and going (fantasy) and even 64 plus fill ins by other authors (Children's/GO) then 3 is nothing!) had I just bought the first, I wouldn't have bothered with the others, which would have been a shame as I felt they progressively improved in terms of story line as they went along.

They also left me with another thought to toss around in my mind.  I am hoping for NaNo to write a M/M contemporary story, and whereas usually I don't plan ahead what I will write - rather I just sit and type what appears between brain and fingers (which can mean I surprise myself - certainly did when I read back a chapter of something and discovered I'd killed one of my characters!).  However, having only got 30 days and 50,000 words to try and get out (not to mention that the rest of my life won't stop whilst I try and do this) I've been planning and researching - which of course also involves reading the genre.  Now the question that these three books threw at me is - what is the correct ratio of sex/storyline?  I know that this is something that is very reader dependant - I found the 1st book in this set to be far too much sex and not enough story, the 2nd had morphed to lots of phone sex and little contact and a slightly improved storyline, the 3rd had the most involved of the story lines and the least sex (the dog helped my enjoyment level - though dogs in books, and werewolves can be a major issue for me if the writer knows nothing about basic anatomy, breed description or behaviour)

Now I'm not bothered if the sex side of things a full on graphic description or a fades to grey kind of moment, the thing is the scene has to fit, it's not just there because say, after 30 pages there must be sex because that's the type of book it is.

I shall have to ponder this one for a bit longer I think.  It will keep me occupied whilst I drive tomorrow.

Panic Over

Well today has been better.... much better, in fact, I have one thing on the list to do before I go on holiday... I felt that good about it, I booked tomorrow afternoon off as well :o)

Tonight I am off to a big charity quiz event (shock horror, a hint of a social life!!) ... but first I have to sort the mob out, which would be why I am sitting at the PC, desperately waiting for the Jessewave interview with Ty & Zane to load ... sorry dogs, we'll run down the park in a second....

At least I can get the housework done tomorrow afternoon now... and not sit read the, erm, 3 new books I picked up from the post office today (Soul Bonds series by Lynn Lorenz), honest.....

... And Breathe

This post is bought to you by the random wafflings from the over stressed....

Next week I have the week off, this is a good thing yes?  Actually, right now, not so sure.  I had a week off back in July mainly because I'd have had to take 2 days off for family stuff and then there was the 2 assignments I'd left till the last sodding minute yet again, so needs must. As it happened, I actually kind of enjoyed it.... well, most of it, eventually, when I'd finally wound down.  So in a fit of "oh Gods I am back at work" when I returned I phoned a friend and discovered when half term was for her and my half daughter and booked another week off so they could come and visit.

That was ages ago, or at least it felt like it at the time, and now my week off is next week, and I am yet again getting to the stage of stupidly overloaded panic brain caused mainly by too much work and far too little sleep.

So, huge mistake, I wrote a list today of what I needed to do before I finish for my holiday (which is Thursday at 4 pm not Friday as joy of joys I shall be spending Friday in a seminar on professional ethics and standards in Milton Keynes of all places).  I then looked at the list, then at my hands and, fuck, I was shaking.  That hasn't happened for a couple of years.  It was a close call between crying or hysteria, but professional control won out and I managed to get a grip of myself. 

The list is a bit shorter now and I think I shall get through the rest of the week without wigging out completely and cancelling the holiday.  I did have to get all my work checked off when I developed a severe case of sarcasm and potty typing, causing me to re-write one e-mail 8 times before it was fit to send without causing offence.

So I have 2 days of work, a shit load of housework and crap to do at home, a long drive, a seminar and then I can relax, for a week, in good company..... So I shall repeat to myself regularly until then, it will all be fine, just hold on and breathe.......

It's all just fantasy to me.....

One of the assistants at my “Plot Bunny Breeding and Rearing Centre” (aka one of my readers, who selflessly permits me to bounce ideas off her and who gets to read my scribblings for small bribes of chocolate/alcohol), raised an eyebrow and muttered at me today “you don’t subscribe to the write only what you experience yourself school of writing do you?”

Well, er, no, definitely not, in fact, can you imagine anything more boring? I can’t. 

My usual writing involves elements of fantasy, though I can write contemporary, but even then chances are (hum, ok, actually, not definitely, say about an 80% chance) that it’s not going to be anything I’ve any personal experience of… this is what research is for surely? (and research can lead you to do some very strange things… *ahem* drinking a bottle of beer and then spending 20 minutes sucking on a vibrator covered with a strawberry flavoured condom before going to bed because I wanted to describe the taste in a character's mouth the morning after for example)

Ok, so you can’t research some of the things that my head comes up with as, let’s face it, they don’t really exist (I’m talking marauding big cats, colonies of elves protecting the Peak District and intermarriage of races causing strange and magical powers here…. If anyone has evidence of these things, please send it this way!).  Yes, there are usually some myths and legends (preferably local ones) wound in, and I’ll happily mix in some fairy tales and a smattering of historical knowledge, but much of it does come from my head and for me that’s part of the fun of the writing.

Then I pointed out that there is a correlation between what I write and what I read, which lead to some boggle-eyed amazement… whilst I read anything that is put in front of me, if it’s a work of fiction then despite its designated genre it is pretty much guaranteed that in one way or another, to me, it’s going to be fantasy…

Just looking at some of my more frequently read books……I am never going to be part of a sweeping historical drama, nor will I go to school in a 1940’s boarding school, I won’t be a sword wielding hero (heroines are very few and far between in epic fantasy – there are some authors who write them brilliantly but still not enough!), I won’t be a private investigator or detective, pretty sure I won’t be a murderer or other major criminal.  I will never be involved with werewolves, vampires or any other paranormal creature you can think of, I won’t be in an M/M romance, and most probably not in a M/F one for that matter …

If my life were a book there’d be a few interesting moments, but the rest of it might as well be blank pages of boredom!  No, my imagination is a much more fun place to play.

So now, I shall go feed the plot bunny responsible for the new set of voices that arrived in my head the other night, which are telling me the story of a far too knowledgeable grandmother, an abandoned, lonely and insecure werewolf, a dominant and brash tree surgeon, some uncaring parents and a young twink with an attitude problem, a chip on his shoulder that is big enough sink the Titanic and a favourite red hoodie…….

This song title reminds me of writing.... the truth is mundane, something beautiful is infinitely preferable.

Hair Dye and the Helpful Cat

Last night, post blog post, prior to pizza, I got a text from friends advising that they were sitting in the garden of the pub enjoying the warm evening, and would I care to join them... so off I went, and for once didn't have to drive.
So I had a couple of drinks.... something I don't do often as I am usually the driver.  So after being plied with vodka and Pepsi Max for a couple of hours I was returned home, where I entertained the dogs for a bit, before putting them to bed.

Off I went upstairs to get ready for my own bed, when I noticed that my hair was showing rather too much grey, and perhaps it was time to dye it, like, right then. 

I checked the instructions and realised I had 30 mins developing time - which usually I would have put to good use by doing a bit of tidying - but no it's nearly midnight, I'm a little pissed and so I turn on the pc and find something to watch for half an hour whilst I develop.

Then i go liberally apply hair dye to my hair.. my long, down to the middle of my back hair.  Now, the new foaming hair dye stuff is great, it doesn't drip, it does however get flicked all around the bathroom... not that I noticed at the time.  Add to this that Mr Hugo, is sitting on the windowsill watching me intently and occasionally trying to sniff the dye bottles. (Mr Hugo is one of the cats, you get that right?Yyou don't think I just keep some random bloke upstairs perching on window sills and the like?)

Safely balancing my hair on head and trying not to move it I wandered back to the pc ... at which point Mr Hugo decides to be "helpful".  So with a flying leap he's on the computer desk yowling for attention.  I put him onto my lap as it's hard to watch the screen through a cat, but no he's not satisfied with that, so climbs up onto my shoulder and starts rubbing round my hair, my covered in developing dye hair.....

So for 30 minutes it becomes a battle of me v Hugo as he desperately tries to stay on my shoulders. I am subjected to flying leaps from the bed, the book case, the floor.... he's a persistent little bugger.

I eventually got the dye washed out and headed to bed... only to be woken at 4 am by Hugo nibbling the ends of my hair....

Now the thing is, my cats don't have hair, well fur, of their own, they are naked cats.... in his case he's a lovely black/white (which without the fur is blue/white) colour....only this morning, Hugo is in fact, black/white and deep red in places......bathing a cat with a slight hangover (no, not the cat, me) was not the top of my list of things I ever wanted to try.

He's now sulking, slightly less dyed and pissed off.... I am dyed, scratched and I still haven't got all the stray bits of dye off the bathroom... I mean, how the hell did I get dye on the ceiling??