Category: Cat

A blank look means you’re in another world

I can see how it is that a writer’s life can be a lonely one.  That’s why, I guess, so many writers have an animal as a pet, someone to talk to, or just feel as though you are not alone in this quest.

I’m often sitting in front of the computer screen, or in a large lounge chair with my trusty tablet computer, writing the words, or staring into space!

Sometimes the words don’t make any sense, sometimes the thoughts leading to those words don’t make any sense.

Sometimes the most sensible person in the room is the cat.

I’m sure his thoughts are not vague or scrambled, or wrestling with the ploys of several stories on the go, getting locations right, getting characters to think and do their thing with a fair degree of continuity.

The cat’s world is one of which chair to lie on, where is that elusive mouse be it real or otherwise, and is this fool going to feed me, and please, please, don’t let it be the lasagna.  I am not that cat!

Unlike other professions, there is no 9 to 5, no overtime, no point where you can switch off and move into leisure time.  Not while you are writing that next masterpiece.  It’s a steady sometimes frustrating slog where you can’t just walk away, have a great time, and come back and pick up where you left off.

Stories have to be written from beginning to end, not a bit here and a bit there.

It’s a bit like running a marathon.  You are in a zone, the first few miles are the hardest, the middle is just getting the rhythm and breathing under control, and then you hope you get to the end because it can seem that you’ve been going forever and the end is never in sight.

But, when you reach the end, oh, isn’t the feeling one of pure joy and relief.

And, yes, perhaps you’ve just created another masterpiece!

My 800 words on writing

Writing is one of those occupations that requires a lot of hard work for, sometimes, very little output.  We, as writers, strive to produce a certain number of words per day, or, sometimes, just a few words just to keep oiling the machine and keeping it in working order.

When this creative process stops we tend to call it writer’s block, or something else entirely.  For me it is a point where I have lost the way, and the next chapter, scene, or plot development is not clear.  Time for a shower, sleep, or a walk in the park.

Other times, the creative processes are firing on all 12 cylinders and ideas, thoughts, plot lines, and words are pouring out of you like water over a waterfall at thaw time, or in a flood.

Sorry, shouldn’t be using metaphors, bad writing.

At the moment I have finished my next novel, yes, it sounds really good, and in itself, it gives me a sense of achievement.  In another sense it fills me with dread because I have to start editing, and, more importantly, make sure the first part of the book blends with the new developments that only occurred to me later.

Sometimes I go back and add notes at the appropriate place where the story needs to be corrected, or I just sit there and fix it on the spot.

But, editing is a horrible job.  Making sure of continuity, making sure the characters names didn’t change, or they suddenly go from being short, overweight and red hair to thin, tall and blonde hair.  Making sure the English is correct, grammar correct, spelling correct, and fore’s not confused with four’s.

And not start my sentences with and or but.  Sorry, again, bad habits die hard.

I have read that it’s a good idea to let that first draft sit on the shelf for a few weeks and let the dust settle around it, ruminating on it sub-consciously.  Good idea.  It’s another excuse to put off the inevitable.

So, is it time to have a holiday, take time out from the business of writing, or catch up with all that social media stuff, tweeting, facebooking, tumblring, instagramming, or whatever it is.  Oh yes, that’s right, as an indie author I have to do my own ‘pitching’ to the reading public.

Time to plan a campaign to get my title out there, and generate some interest.

Time in fact to hit the internet and see how others have done it.

42,647,345 hits on Google.  Damn, I didn’t think there were that many writers.  I’m starting to feel very, very insignificant in the greater scheme of things.

OK, that goes in the too hard basket for the moment.  Moving on.

On those days when the creative juices were on overdrive, I fill notebooks with the ideas for stories, short and long.  When out, waiting around for doctors, and others, I have my mobile phone which has a notebook type app called SomNote which I write.  I find it is very easy to lose oneself in a story when there is so much inspiration around.

These notes are then sent via email to my computer and stored in an email directory, ready for me to look at, at a later date.

That later date has arrived.

I start looking through the ‘ideas’ list, a cavalcade of story titles,

Amnesia- the story of a man who wakes up in hospital with amnesia, and then is led to believe he is someone other than who he is.  The plot needs some work, well, a lot of work.

The Will – the story of a grandson trying to stop the greedy and selfish siblings from selling out the family heritage, I’m sure I saw a British movie about this not so long ago

Mistaken Identity – The story of a man who is an illegitimate son, and has a brother who is both an evil man and his exact doppelganger.  He was never told about it, and comes face to face with his doppelganger in extraordinary circumstances.

Strangers in the night – no not the song, but a story about two disparate people who have no time for anything but work and career, who have a chance encounter.

Breaking the rules – a story about a pair of cat burglars who run into each other, on separate heists in the same building.  This has potential.

More than three hours have passed, I’ve been reading the stories, notes, plotlines, and staring at the ceiling looking for inspiration.

Chester, our cat, my friend and confidant, always likes the last word.  He wanders into the office, climbs up on the chair and sits, selecting the pile of papers for The Will.

It will be the title of my next book

My 800 words on writing

Writing is one of those occupations that requires a lot of hard work for, sometimes, very little output.  We, as writers, strive to produce a certain number of words per day, or, sometimes, just a few words just to keep oiling the machine and keeping it in working order.

When this creative process stops we tend to call it writer’s block, or something else entirely.  For me it is a point where I have lost the way, and the next chapter, scene, or plot development is not clear.  Time for a shower, sleep, or a walk in the park.

Other times, the creative processes are firing on all 12 cylinders and ideas, thoughts, plot lines, and words are pouring out of you like water over a waterfall at thaw time, or in a flood.

Sorry, shouldn’t be using metaphors, bad writing.

At the moment I have finished my next novel, yes, it sounds really good, and in itself, it gives me a sense of achievement.  In another sense it fills me with dread because I have to start editing, and, more importantly, make sure the first part of the book blends with the new developments that only occurred to me later.

Sometimes I go back and add notes at the appropriate place where the story needs to be corrected, or I just sit there and fix it on the spot.

But, editing is a horrible job.  Making sure of continuity, making sure the characters names didn’t change, or they suddenly go from being short, overweight and red hair to thin, tall and blonde hair.  Making sure the English is correct, grammar correct, spelling correct, and fore’s not confused with four’s.

And not start my sentences with and or but.  Sorry, again, bad habits die hard.

I have read that it’s a good idea to let that first draft sit on the shelf for a few weeks and let the dust settle around it, ruminating on it sub-consciously.  Good idea.  It’s another excuse to put off the inevitable.

So, is it time to have a holiday, take time out from the business of writing, or catch up with all that social media stuff, tweeting, facebooking, tumblring, instagramming, or whatever it is.  Oh yes, that’s right, as an indie author I have to do my own ‘pitching’ to the reading public.

Time to plan a campaign to get my title out there, and generate some interest.

Time in fact to hit the internet and see how others have done it.

42,647,345 hits on Google.  Damn, I didn’t think there were that many writers.  I’m starting to feel very, very insignificant in the greater scheme of things.

OK, that goes in the too hard basket for the moment.  Moving on.

On those days when the creative juices were on overdrive, I fill notebooks with the ideas for stories, short and long.  When out, waiting around for doctors, and others, I have my mobile phone which has a notebook type app called SomNote which I write.  I find it is very easy to lose oneself in a story when there is so much inspiration around.

These notes are then sent via email to my computer and stored in an email directory, ready for me to look at, at a later date.

That later date has arrived.

I start looking through the ‘ideas’ list, a cavalcade of story titles,

Amnesia- the story of a man who wakes up in hospital with amnesia, and then is led to believe he is someone other than who he is.  The plot needs some work, well, a lot of work.

The Will – the story of a grandson trying to stop the greedy and selfish siblings from selling out the family heritage, I’m sure I saw a British movie about this not so long ago

Mistaken Identity – The story of a man who is an illegitimate son, and has a brother who is both an evil man and his exact doppelganger.  He was never told about it, and comes face to face with his doppelganger in extraordinary circumstances.

Strangers in the night – no not the song, but a story about two disparate people who have no time for anything but work and career, who have a chance encounter.

Breaking the rules – a story about a pair of cat burglars who run into each other, on separate heists in the same building.  This has potential.

More than three hours have passed, I’ve been reading the stories, notes, plotlines, and staring at the ceiling looking for inspiration.

Chester, our cat, my friend and confidant, always likes the last word.  He wanders into the office, climbs up on the chair and sits, selecting the pile of papers for The Will.

It will be the title of my next book

My 800 words on writing

Writing is one of those occupations that requires a lot of hard work for, sometimes, very little output.  We, as writers, strive to produce a certain number of words per day, or, sometimes, just a few words just to keep oiling the machine and keeping it in working order.

When this creative process stops we tend to call it writer’s block, or something else entirely.  For me it is a point where I have lost the way, and the next chapter, scene, or plot development is not clear.  Time for a shower, sleep, or a walk in the park.

Other times, the creative processes are firing on all 12 cylinders and ideas, thoughts, plot lines, and words are pouring out of you like water over a waterfall at thaw time, or in a flood.

Sorry, shouldn’t be using metaphors, bad writing.

At the moment I have finished my next novel, yes, it sounds really good, and in itself, it gives me a sense of achievement.  In another sense it fills me with dread because I have to start editing, and, more importantly, make sure the first part of the book blends with the new developments that only occurred to me later.

Sometimes I go back and add notes at the appropriate place where the story needs to be corrected, or I just sit there and fix it on the spot.

But, editing is a horrible job.  Making sure of continuity, making sure the characters names didn’t change, or they suddenly go from being short, overweight and red hair to thin, tall and blonde hair.  Making sure the English is correct, grammar correct, spelling correct, and fore’s not confused with four’s.

And not start my sentences with and or but.  Sorry, again, bad habits die hard.

I have read that it’s a good idea to let that first draft sit on the shelf for a few weeks and let the dust settle around it, ruminating on it sub-consciously.  Good idea.  It’s another excuse to put off the inevitable.

So, is it time to have a holiday, take time out from the business of writing, or catch up with all that social media stuff, tweeting, facebooking, tumblring, instagramming, or whatever it is.  Oh yes, that’s right, as an indie author I have to do my own ‘pitching’ to the reading public.

Time to plan a campaign to get my title out there, and generate some interest.

Time in fact to hit the internet and see how others have done it.

42,647,345 hits on Google.  Damn, I didn’t think there were that many writers.  I’m starting to feel very, very insignificant in the greater scheme of things.

OK, that goes in the too hard basket for the moment.  Moving on.

On those days when the creative juices were on overdrive, I fill notebooks with the ideas for stories, short and long.  When out, waiting around for doctors, and others, I have my mobile phone which has a notebook type app called SomNote which I write.  I find it is very easy to lose oneself in a story when there is so much inspiration around.

These notes are then sent via email to my computer and stored in an email directory, ready for me to look at, at a later date.

That later date has arrived.

I start looking through the ‘ideas’ list, a cavalcade of story titles,

Amnesia- the story of a man who wakes up in hospital with amnesia, and then is led to believe he is someone other than who he is.  The plot needs some work, well, a lot of work.

The Will – the story of a grandson trying to stop the greedy and selfish siblings from selling out the family heritage, I’m sure I saw a British movie about this not so long ago

Mistaken Identity – The story of a man who is an illegitimate son, and has a brother who is both an evil man and his exact doppelganger.  He was never told about it, and comes face to face with his doppelganger in extraordinary circumstances.

Strangers in the night – no not the song, but a story about two disparate people who have no time for anything but work and career, who have a chance encounter.

Breaking the rules – a story about a pair of cat burglars who run into each other, on separate heists in the same building.  This has potential.

More than three hours have passed, I’ve been reading the stories, notes, plotlines, and staring at the ceiling looking for inspiration.

Chester, our cat, my friend and confidant, always likes the last word.  He wanders into the office, climbs up on the chair and sits, selecting the pile of papers for The Will.

It will be the title of my next book

Trying to pick up the pieces

I can see how it is that a writer’s life is one that, at times, has to be shut off from the outside world.

It’s a bit hard to keep a stream of thoughts going when in one ear is some banal detective show, and in the other, a conversation that you have to keep up with.  I know how hard it is because I’ve tried doing three things at once, and failed miserably in all three.

So, out I slink to the writing room and start by re-reading the previous chapters, to get back into the plot.  I should remember where I am, and get straight to it, but the devil is in the detail.

Going back, quite often I revise, and a plotline is tweaked, and a whole new window is opened.  God, I wish I didn’t do that!

Then I get to the blank page, ready to go, and…

The phone rings.

Damn.  Damn.  Damn.

Phone answered, back to the blank page, no, it’s gone, got yo go back, blast, another revision, and back to the blank page.

Half an hour shot to pieces.

The phone rings again.

Blast scam callers.  I nearly rip the cord out of the wall.

All through this the cat just watches, and, is that a knowing smile?

It can’t be, I’ve just learned that cats can’t smile, or make any sort of face.

I’m sure his thoughts are not a vague or scrambled, or wrestling with the ploys of several stories on the go, getting locations right, getting characters to think and do their thing with a fair degree of continuity.

The cat’s world is one of which chair to lie on, where is that elusive mouse be it real or otherwise, and is this fool going to feed me, and please, please, don’t let it be the lasagna.  I am not that cat!

Unlike other professions, it’s a steady, sometimes frustrating, slog where you can’t just walk away, have a great time, and come back and pick up where you left off.  Stories have to be written from beginning to end, not a bit here and a bit there.

It’s a bit like running a marathon.  You are in a zone, the first few miles are the hardest, the middle is just getting the rhythm and breathing under control, and then you hope you get to the end because it can seem that you’ve been going forever and the end is never in sight.

But, when you reach the end, oh, isn’t the feeling one of pure joy and relief.

Sorry, not there yet.

And no comment is required from the cat gallery, thankyou!

 

It’s good, it’s bad, and at times it can be very, very ugly

It was as if Microsoft Word was sent down from that place in the universe where a group of torturers sit around a table to find new ways of making our lives just that little bit more difficult.

I mean, most of the time it works really well and behaves itself.

But…

Then there are the times, usually when you are stressed about a deadline, or you are nearly at the end of what you believe to be the most brilliant writing you have ever put on paper.

Then…

Disaster strikes.

It could be the power goes off, even for just a few seconds, but it’s enough to kill the computer.  It could be that you have reached the end and closed Word down, thinking that it had autosaved, all the while ignoring that little pop up that says, ‘do you want to save your work’?

It’s been a long day, night, or session.  You’re tired and your mind is elsewhere, as it always is at the end.

You always assume that autosave is on.  It was the last time, it has been since the day you installed it however long ago that was.

So…

When the power comes back on, you start the computer, go into Word, and it brings back all the windows you had open when the power failed, and the one with the brilliant piece you just wrote, it’s just a blank sheet.

Or up to where it last autosaved, which is nowhere near the end.

Or it didn’t save at all.

You forget the software updated recently and that always brings changes.  Usually unwanted changes.

By which time you have that sinking feeling that all is lost, deadline missed, brilliant work lost, it’s the end of the world.

You promise yourself you’re going to get Scrivener, or something else, where this doesn’t happen.

Or if you’re like me, you put the cat on the keyboard and tell him to sort the mess out.

It’s good, it’s bad, and at times it can be very, very ugly

It was as if Microsoft Word was sent down from that place in the universe where a group of torturers sit around a table to find new ways of making our lives just that little bit more difficult.

I mean, most of the time it works really well and behaves itself.

But…

Then there are the times, usually when you are stressed about a deadline, or you are nearly at the end of what you believe to be the most brilliant writing you have ever put on paper.

Then…

Disaster strikes.

It could be the power goes off, even for just a few seconds, but it’s enough to kill the computer.  It could be that you have reached the end and closed Word down, thinking that it had autosaved, all the while ignoring that little pop up that says, ‘do you want to save your work’?

It’s been a long day, night, or session.  You’re tired and your mind is elsewhere, as it always is at the end.

You always assume that autosave is on.  It was the last time, it has been since the day you installed it however long ago that was.

So…

When the power comes back on, you start the computer, go into Word, and it brings back all the windows you had open when the power failed, and the one with the brilliant piece you just wrote, it’s just a blank sheet.

Or up to where it last autosaved, which is nowhere near the end.

Or it didn’t save at all.

You forget the software updated recently and that always brings changes.  Usually unwanted changes.

By which time you have that sinking feeling that all is lost, deadline missed, brilliant work lost, it’s the end of the world.

You promise yourself you’re going to get Scrivener, or something else, where this doesn’t happen.

Or if you’re like me, you put the cat on the keyboard and tell him to sort the mess out.

Just when you think you’ve found the right word processor

It was as if Microsoft Word was sent down from that place in the universe where a group of torturers sit around a table to find new ways of making our lives just that little bit more difficult.

I mean, most of the time it works really well and behaves itself.

But…

Then there are the times, usually when you are stressed about a deadline, or you are nearly at the end of what you believe to be the most brilliant writing you have ever put on paper.

Then…

Disaster strikes.

It could be the power goes off, even for just a few seconds, but it’s enough to kill the computer.  It could be that you have reached the end and closed Word down, thinking that it had autosaved, all the while ignoring that little pop up that says, ‘do you want to save your work’?

It’s been a long day, night, or session.  You’re tired and your mind is elsewhere, as it always is at the end.

You always assume that autosave is on.  It was the last time, it has been since the day you installed it however long ago that was.

So…

When the power comes back on, you start the computer, go into Word, and it brings back all the windows you had open when the power failed, and the one with the brilliant piece you just wrote, it’s just a blank sheet.

Or up to where it last autosaved, which is nowhere near the end.

Or it didn’t save at all.

You forget the software updated recently and that always brings changes.  Usually unwanted changes.

By which time you have that sinking feeling that all is lost, deadline missed, brilliant work lost, it’s the end of the world.

You promise yourself you’re going to get Scrivener, or something else, where this doesn’t happen.

Or if you’re like me, you put the cat on the keyboard and tell him to sort the mess out.

Just when you think you’ve found the right word processor

It was as if Microsoft Word was sent down from that place in the universe where a group of torturers sit around a table to find new ways of making our lives just that little bit more difficult.

I mean, most of the time it works really well and behaves itself.

But…

Then there are the times, usually when you are stressed about a deadline, or you are nearly at the end of what you believe to be the most brilliant writing you have ever put on paper.

Then…

Disaster strikes.

It could be the power goes off, even for just a few seconds, but it’s enough to kill the computer.  It could be that you have reached the end and closed Word down, thinking that it had autosaved, all the while ignoring that little pop up that says, ‘do you want to save your work’?

It’s been a long day, night, or session.  You’re tired and your mind is elsewhere, as it always is at the end.

You always assume that autosave is on.  It was the last time, it has been since the day you installed it however long ago that was.

So…

When the power comes back on, you start the computer, go into Word, and it brings back all the windows you had open when the power failed, and the one with the brilliant piece you just wrote, it’s just a blank sheet.

Or up to where it last autosaved, which is nowhere near the end.

Or it didn’t save at all.

You forget the software updated recently and that always brings changes.  Usually unwanted changes.

By which time you have that sinking feeling that all is lost, deadline missed, brilliant work lost, it’s the end of the world.

You promise yourself you’re going to get Scrivener, or something else, where this doesn’t happen.

Or if you’re like me, you put the cat on the keyboard and tell him to sort the mess out.

A blank look means you’re in another world

I can see how it is that a writer’s life can be a lonely one.  That’s why, I guess, so many writers have an animal as a pet, someone to talk to, or just feel as though you are not alone in this quest.

I’m often sitting in front of the computer screen, or in a large lounge chair with my trusty tablet computer, writing the words, or staring into space!

Sometimes the words don’t make any sense, sometimes the thoughts leading to those words don’t make any sense.

Sometimes the most sensible person in the room is the cat.

I’m sure his thoughts are not vague or scrambled, or wrestling with the ploys of several stories on the go, getting locations right, getting characters to think and do their thing with a fair degree of continuity.

The cat’s world is one of which chair to lie on, where is that elusive mouse be it real or otherwise, and is this fool going to feed me, and please, please, don’t let it be the lasagna.  I am not that cat!

Unlike other professions, there is no 9 to 5, no overtime, no point where you can switch off and move into leisure time.  Not while you are writing that next masterpiece.  It’s a steady sometimes frustrating slog where you can’t just walk away, have a great time, and come back and pick up where you left off.

Stories have to be written from beginning to end, not a bit here and a bit there.

It’s a bit like running a marathon.  You are in a zone, the first few miles are the hardest, the middle is just getting the rhythm and breathing under control, and then you hope you get to the end because it can seem that you’ve been going forever and the end is never in sight.

But, when you reach the end, oh, isn’t the feeling one of pure joy and relief.

And, yes, perhaps you’ve just created another masterpiece!