So today’s task (please don’t mention my obvious straying from the novel writing task at hand) was to attempt to create some sort of digital mood board. A few false starts and several YouTube demonstrations later and here it is. I’ve stuck with the ’90s for novel-theme relevance and general joyous nostalgia (though I know fine well that my one reader – hello Katherine – will be up in arms that Neneh Cherry and her dollar sign earrings do not feature). I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again… we only did miserable indie in the north. Imagine the Dr Marten’s boots covered in tippex flowers and CND signs and you’ve pretty much encapsulated my look circa 1992. 
Inspiration
30 JanSketched some characters
14 Nov
For some reason I’ve become rather taken with the How to Write a Book in 30 Days concept. I’m not sure why as it’s not like I haven’t already done a million writing courses/workshops… never mind the thousands of words I have written and discarded over the years. And, let’s face it, 30 days ain’t going to happen unless I let the midgets fend for themselves for a month. Still, doing anything is better than doing nothing, so I’m going to press on and see what happens. I’m hoping that if I use it as a basic framework to make myself think about the novel in more than just a whimsical ‘this is what I’ll do one day’ way, I’ll somehow build it into my (tiny) working week enough for it to finish itself. I’m going to aim for sooner but at the very least I think I should be able to finish a full first draft by next summer. So, 30 weeks – realism, people, realism – from today is Wednesday 12th June 2013. Sounds reasonable enough to me.
Back to today’s task it is then: Character Sketches.
These are something I always find harder than I think I should. My characters are so real in my head. I can see them and hear them and know exactly what they’d do in any given situation. But ask me something random and specific – their date of birth, for example – and I’m stumped. That’s the point of the exercise though, right? Time to stick a pin in a calendar and find the most fitting birthday for my favourite wayward child of the ’90s. I’m hearing Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins and a bit of Bjork in the background; there is a lot of eyeliner; no one has a mobile phone and the internet consists of 623 pages. I can feel a grunge mood-board coming on.
No, no, no. That would be avoidance. A few more key characters to sketch out before nursery pick up. Back to it.
Took my bloody time
8 Nov
Sorry. I do hope you weren’t holding your breath?
So…where were we? Celebrating Dr C’s exam success? Flailing around like a zombie moaning about sleepless infants? Adding endless tasks to the To Do List That Never Dies? Sounds about right.
Well, no more. The To Do List is for the chopping block. The infant (hurtling towards two as we speak) is occasionally kind enough to sleep. And it’s all about job hunts and interviews not exams for the Dr.
As for me. Well, I’ve had quite enough of my own procrastination. And last night, as I lay awake listening to Baby C’s feeble cough, the entire – and until now annoyingly elusive – framework of the novel I’ve been trying to finish since I was 25 popped into my head in near finished form. And instead of falling asleep again, I wrote it down. Now of course there’s the small matter of the 80,000 words required to pad out said framework but I’m pretty sure the Novel Plot Fairies don’t pay you a 3am visit unless they’re pretty sure that The Time Is Now.
And when else would it be?
Celebrated…
11 Apr
And celebrated some more.
There has been champagne. There have been high fives. There have been toddlers running up and down the kitchen in their pants shouting FRCR till their voices are hoarse.
Exam hell over for Dr C. More free time (hopefully) on the horizon for me.
And this summer (for the first time since 2008) there won’t be a gigantic radiology tome taking up vital bikini space in our holiday luggage.
Started a new to do list
14 Mar
Wails of abandonment firmly pushed to the back of my mind, this is my first agenda-free AND child-free morning in 13 months. Well, I say morning…
Once the delivering and collecting and pausing for breath bit is done, it’s more like two and a half hours.
So rather than spend it paralysed with indecision and trying to relax, reorganise, fill in forms, hear myself think, start an exercise regime, pitch for more freelance work and send Mothers’ Day cards (NB: Must Send Mothers’ Day Cards) all at the same time, I’m writing a list. I’d ‘have a meeting’ if I had anyone to have a meeting with but I figure list making is still up there with the avoidance method greats?
On it so far in various guises: dry-cleaning, doorbells, watch batteries, couriers, electricians, grandparents, baby showers, MMR, kids’ clothes, buying, selling, fixing, running, date confirming, pictures, pinboards, work, writing, windows… I could go on but… you know the drill.
Fell back in love with South Molton Street
25 Feb
It would have been wrong for me to spend the night in London and not fit in a bit of shopping, right?
The TIME magazine party I covered earlier this month was held in Mayfair – a mere hop, skip and flash of a credit card from South Molton Street. For as long as I’ve known London (and thanks to work, I’ve known it geekily well at times), South Molton Street has been a fine place to misspend a few hours coveting goods…but MY GOD has it got good now. It’s basically a roll call of my favourite (expensive) brands: Sandro, Maje, Comptoir des Cotonniers, Poste, The Kooples…hell, there’s even a Petit Bateau (not that the kids were getting a look in with only half an hour to spare before work called).
Half an hour would have once been enough time for me to, erm, I don’t know, make a decision about a pair of tights or something. But I am a mother now. I am made of sterner – and much more opportunistic – stuff. So I took a breath (there wasn’t time for a deep one), speed scanned the racks, narrowed down the contenders, rejected everything that exceeded the price pain barrier (umm, that would be most of it then) and walked out of The Kooples with a couple of minutes to spare and a pleasing new season broderie anglaise top secreted between my laptop and VIP crib sheet for the party. Result.
A pleasing purchase, a spot of brain engagement, the chance to catch up with old work colleagues and my first child-free night since C was born at a friend’s house in Peckham… it hardly felt like work. Until I had to write it up two days later in between toddler/baby demands and on less than four hours sleep that was.
Took a shot of Me Right Now
2 Feb
When your schedule is dictated by the whims of a insomniac 11-month-old and her nearly three-nager sister you take your chances where you can. Which is how I found myself sat in a supermarket car park beside a sleeping C checking my emails and browsing a few blogs. She woke up just as I was reading The Gallery on Sticky Fingers hence this snap of Me Right Now squashed in the front of a Citroen Pluriel squinting into winter sunlight in a non-too-flattering manner.
