Books I loved reading.

Friday, 17 April 2015

A question and a conclusion.

For some reason known only to the gods my wife assured me that a super king size bed with the approximate dimensions of Greater London was the only one for us. In fact it's so big, or the room so small, that we have to sidle around it in order to get on board, and should the notion occur to either of us we'd need to take sandwiches for the epic journey across to each other's side. Even my supposedly fab iphone can't get all of it in shot so there's at least another fifty I can't photograph.

    So, as to the question and the conclusion. Why, oh why is it necessary to cover it with 8800000000 pillows weighing approximately half a ton every single morning, just so they can be taken off again every single evening? My friend reckons it's just a "woman thing," but when I ask her what a woman thing is she just looks pityingly at me and sighs with sad melancholy. Constant  misunderstandings aside, even if I wasn't working hard enough as it is, by the time we've put them back on the floor, all in the correct order, and "Don't you dare throw them!!" I'm so exhausted I can barely find the energy to climb up it's cliff-like sides. If we ever have a fire we'll both be incinerated.

   Apparently I'll never understand because I'm only a man.

   I'm often tempted to "forget" to close the door so the cats can romp about for a while, then they'll all have to be thrown out. Oh happy day.
  

Monday, 13 April 2015

Finally got past "that" point.

I just achieved 201 pages on my new novel, Progeny of Kongomato (working title). That specific number is always important to me because it means that I've left the area of novella and entered into book territory. Not that I ever intended it to be a novel but until that point I always fear that I may run out of ideas or things to do.

     It happened to me a couple of months ago in another novel I began. Without disclosing the plot, which I think is original, I realised that I would have to follow my anti-hero through several lifetimes of adventures for the book to work, but I can't do that again as I just did it in Book of Pain, my last novel. Thus it's gone into my "Other Stuff" folder for the day when I write my four related novella series - whenever that will be. 

    Here's a little snippet from Kongomato 3 where my hero's love interest is introduced for the first time in this book.

   

‘John. Where the hell have you been?’ A flurry of kisses enveloped him, much to the amusement and confusion of several other staff and one clearly envious man being pushed past on a trolley; the absence of a leg clearly forgotten as he stared in awe at the man lucky enough to be on the receiving end of such attention from this beautiful woman.
    ‘You know where I’ve been,’ he panted as those full lips attempted to kiss every portion of his face simultaneously.
    ‘I know where your body has been,’ she pouted in mock severity, ‘but where has your head been. I thought you were going to lie like a zombie forever. Now, are you well, or at least better?’ Those gorgeous blue eyes scanned his face again for any indication that he might be slipping back into coma, or even that he was not entirely recovered.
    ‘I’m fine, I promise.’ Finally, unwillingly, he shook her free. He didn’t want her to stop pawing him but there were things he had to find out. The first was…
    ‘Then for God’s sake get me the hell out of here!’
    His surprise must have been apparent for with a smile towards an elderly man accompanied by two armed and frowning soldiers she guided him towards the enticing smell of coffee and altered the timbre of her voice to an impersonal and business-like tone of curt efficiency. After pointing him in the direction of a table in a large and well populated but strangely muted cafeteria she returned quickly with two steaming cups.
    ‘What the hell is going on?’ She demanded in a quiet but imperative tone. All he could see over the top of her mug were those haunting eyes staring at only one person.
     ‘Do you want to narrow the parameters of the question a little.’ He used a gently mocking voice but in truth he had no idea what to say other than the obvious. London had been invaded by supposedly mythical flying lizards capable of changing sex at will and killing their prey simply by looking at them. Hundreds, no thousands of people had already died and many others had fled the city and now the surrounding countries were on the verge of...

  

Friday, 10 April 2015

Twice around the block.

I don't have writer's block in the traditional sense, but I've come to a juddering halt in my latest novel, the third and final edition of my Kongomato series. Not because I can't write; I can happily pump out gibberish until the cows come home. It's because my mind wants to take the novel in a totally different direction from the way I'd originally planned. Nothing wrong there; most of my novels have ended in a way I'd never even considered when first putting finger to keyboard. However, I'd become enthused with the concept of first saving the entire world, or destroying the entire world. Then I settled for trashing England but just as quickly realised that nobody would notice if this lump of rainy rock was obliterated.

    What to do? 

    Nothing wrong with re-writing the whole thing provided I'm happy with the outcome. The only thing is that it will take months to write it, see how it looks and then decide before going back to plan F and writing the second half of the book all over again in the direction I first envisaged it.

    "Stop whining," I hear you say, "writing's hard and if you want to" blah blah ...

    I do have a solution-ette, and because I have the wit of a demented budgie, I can leave it for a while and continue writing because despite decreeing that I would never do it again, I'm simultaneously writing three novels - again. My rationale was that as all three are in different genres, and different voices, there would be no conflict.

   Who was I trying to kid.

   Right, I've made up my mind. Back burner for the others and I'm going to destroy the entire, or maybe just ... No I've really got it now, I'm going to turn the whole thing around and blow...

   Stuff this. I'm going to the pub.

    ps. Despite my putting it away on the highest shelf in the entire house, the youngest of our  cats tried to barf all over my new tablet last night. Happily it missed, but now my genuine 74 Fender Strat has a big stain on the case.

   For anyone who doesn't know guitars, think Ferrari 458.

Tuesday, 7 April 2015

Finally got a tablet.

I know I should be used to this since I've been building computers since 1982  (the Oric was my first love, I believe) but about fifteen minutes after buying my last android tablet it was hopelessly obsolete.

    I bought a generic model from a TV shopping channel - I'll never make that mistake again, especially as it spectacularly croaked  a few weeks ago.

    My new one has a quad core CPU. No biggy there you might say, but my last one barely had a CPU at all. More like a CP EUUWW.

    Now I can get back to some serious writing when I'm supposed to be working, if I can just stop playing 3d Solitaire.

   And if I can just resist sitting on it, dropping tea all over it, leaving it on the roof of the car when I drive off or allowing the cat to use it as a toilet, it should last me at least a month before becoming a dinosaur like the last one.


    And while I'm on the subject of rubbish computers; why won't Chrome work for me? I tried to install it through four browsers (including the one I wrote myself) and finally managed to get it down properly. So why won't it work? I've looked at a million internet forums and the people are equally divided between: "It's absolutely the bestest browser ever written ", and "Why won't the *"£%^*)"$ thing work?"

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