Come join us.
Bye LiveJournal. We tried, for quite some time. But you never really felt like home.
Actually, the main reason we're moving on is we want to start taking this blogging thing a little more seriously, and it's easier on Blogger (or perhaps Wordpress? Hmm) to differentiate between which is what and who is whom. We want the blog to start to be about bringing our fine, buried talent to the wider world. It needs to say: This is the blog of the highly talented and successful author Aliya Whiteley and that strange hanger-on fellow. I also would like it to be about the process of us trying to finish our co-written novel/series and looking for a publisher.
So the problem? How do we sum up what we are, what we do and where we're going in the title of a blog? For some incomprehensible reason, I've the sneaky suspicion that pootleandrat doesn't quite cut the Dijon.
Friends, Romans, countrymen and readers, your thoughts and SEO-friendly suggestions please.
It's such a relief when someone really gets your book. Thanks to Alis Hawkins (MNW author) for posting this brilliant review on her blog:
She dug it. I feel slightly less weird. Or possibly she's just as weird as I am.
Thanks to It's A Crime for a nice review of Light Reading here:
Lena and Pru - the Thelma and Louise of Britain...
The Guardian has a great list of movie deaths today:
My favourite is Quint in Jaws.
I'm just sitting here, thinking, 'wonder how the book's doing? wonder how it's doing now? wonder if someone's buying it right now? wonder if people like it? wonder if anyone out there likes it?' as you do, just after publication, and it got me thinking about the superstitions involved in these delicate days before we know for sure if I've written a stonker or a shocker.
1. Amazon Ranking. The reason why the internet comes with a 'refresh' button. I get to check who's bought my book as opposed to everyone else's book in the universe. And I get to think about Jordan, and why she gets to be number one on amazon, and whether I should get breast implants and an IQ reduction. And how stupid the public are, judging by the comments on amazon. 'Katie proves she can write, too!' says one deluded fool. Yes, she can write to her ghost writer and tell her to write some more stuff. Or did she phone her instead? It would be nice to think she'd at least know the woman responsible for her literary career if she passed her in the street, eh what?
2. Reviews. Where are the reviews? Have any turned up yet? Any I don't know about slipped under the radar? The reason Google was invented. I realise I'm asking quite a lot by expecting people to hurry up reading it already and post their deep thoughts about it somewhere, but I can't help myself. Time has slowed for me. I'm like Mr Lazy - I'm running on a four hour day and the toast takes three hours to pop. As the fly-man in the web said, Help me.
3. The weather. It's a bright sunshiney day. People will be in the garden, or out for a walk. They're not going to be buying my book. It's a rainy, horrible day. People feel sad. People don't buy books when they feel sad. Yes, this is stupid behaviour. If I was right, the only time people would buy books would be at 10.15am on April 22nd, just after the rainy patch, before it gets too hot.
I'm off to stare at my tea leaves some more. They're in a packet on the sideboard.
When the mass insanity struck life went on as normal. It wasn’t a gibbering, pants on your head, type of thing. It was subtly different in everyone, and some people got it worse than others, but generally it was just a feeling that things were not the way we thought they were. So if you looked at your husband and his head had turned into an aubergine, you knew that it was the insanity – coined ‘the dribbles’ by the newspapers – and you could ignore it until it went away again.
This week I forgot about the veggie box, and I bought veggies from the supermarket the day before the box arrived. I know, I know, I'm putting this ridiculous lapse down to stress.
So, I have duplicated some of my veggies. This means I have the opportunity to do a direct veggie quality comparison. I shall make a number of dishes, then blindfold Hubby, and make him taste them both. I'll let you know the results (other than a peed off Hubby).
Potatoes (new and old)
A red pepper
Anybody know what I can do with my jerusalem artichokes? I'm not a big fan. Somebody persuade me otherwise.
...about this whole Willesden Herald thing.
If this is a competition designed to highlight previously undiscovered talent, and they don't find any, doesn't that mean that everybody talented has been discovered?
Shouldn't they be celebrating? 'Hurray! Everybody talented is discovered!' Surely they shouldn't be saying, 'God, you untalented people out there, try harder to be talented. There just not enough quantifiable talent in this writing business. Everyone should be able to produce a work of genius at the drop of Zadie Smith's hat.'
Anyhoo, they reversed their decision, and then unreversed it, and all flapped about trying to appease all the masses of complainants at once while making the shortlisted not-good-enoughs feel that they were still special snowflakes, even if they were unworthy of money. I don't know why the Willesden Herald gets to despise the Arts Council. Seems to me they've become a kind of Arts Council.
Ooh, I'm prickly today. Must be to do with finishing the first draft of my new book. I always get a little tetchy with that one.