Earwig Sandwich (16/3/2010)

Posted in News

This week’s news was that the Poles are going to publish TAP. I have nothing much to add to that as I sit here watching cats exhibit various displays of cold territorial envy towards a) each other and b) the laptop, except that this is also from Poland. There are three cats around me. One tabby moggy who insists she has to sit on the laptop whenever it comes out, one shiny black moggy who thinks he’s a celebrity and gets the hump whenever anyone else gets any attention and then there’s the Norwegian Forest Cat, who is oblivious to all of that and sacks out wherever he damn well pleases. He’s like a mobile purr-rug. Wedgies. They’re great. I’ll post a photo one of these days. In fact, why not now:

The Ferg

There. He looks a little less regal when being dragged around by his armpits by a toddler, but only a little.

Anyway, cats isn’t what I came here to blog about today. It was this, earwig sandwich (or how to nail jelly to walls). A proper blog from back in the days when blogs were on-line diaries. Lulu Labonne is a pen-name, but the rest is real. I like it. It’s a nice change from dragons and swords and blood from time to time. Since I have nothing of any value whatsoever to say this week, I recommend you go read that instead.

OOTS rewrite #3 is underway. The flooring and plasterwork rewrite, the structural stuff having been finally sorted out, the paint-and-polish work yet to come. Blah blah blah. Nothing to see here, move along, move along. I am in love with the ending but I have no doubt my love will not be uniformly shared.

Another One Bites The Dust (31/7/09)

Posted in News

Today’s handy writing tips, one do, one don’t. DO listen to music while you write. I Have the unusual luxury of a house to myself[1] for the first time in a long time and as I write this, the music is cranked up LOUD. House-consuming, brain-swallowing chords fill the world, cascades of notes do battle with warlike flights of arpeggios and give life to the symphony of mayhem in my head waiting to be writ as space and time rip and swirl and fall apart…

Er. Or something like that. Music good. Let’s leave it at that. It doesn’t *have* to be Wagner after all. It could be… Rammstein. Anything at all. Anything as long as it’s loud and German, apparently.

Today’s DONT. DONT write with a kitten on your lap. Don’t even try. Don’t write with a kitten in the same room as you, looking up at you with its big mournful eyes, chirruping it’s heart away at the merciless cruelty of an owner who won’t let it have the lap it so clearly deserves. Don’t do this, because this will inevitably turn into a kitten-on-lap situation. Don’t write with a  kitten in the same house, because that soon becomes a kitten in the same room. And don’t think you can fob them off with food, because yeah, sure, off they go and being the little balls of accelerated space-time that they are, they’ll simply inhale whatever you’ve given them and be back before you can remember what a paragraph is. And then they’ll be back you’re right where you started except with cat-breath and the occasional cat-fart now.

Now I love my kittens to bits, but there are limits, and those limits include being having one kitten walk all over the keyboard while I’m in the middle of the last chapter of something while the other one gets a bit playful and starts batting at the USB stick in the hope that it’ll somehow grow legs and fur and a tail, jump off the desk and run squeaking in terror for the nearest sofa. Polite notice to my feline friends: Miaow rawwwaram prrrrrupmiaw! [2]

So yes, feline readers, there are limits and you’d best beware, for while a kitten is tradi – GET OFF THE FRIGGING USB STICK FOR PITY’S SAKE – traditional friend, there are certain necessities to m – OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON’T CHEW THAT – maintaining the supply of catfood.

It’s possible that the first draft of The Thief-Taker’s – GET OFF THE FUCKING MOUSE BUTTONS –  Apprentice is finished. I have to go now. Cat fart. Bad one <sounds of choking> <transmission ends>

[1] Except for kittens, as will become clear.

[2] No, this is not a new and interesting species of mouse that you have discovered. It is in fact my work. My life’s work.  Possibly the sole repository for my life’s work, given what your litter-mate appears to have done to my laptop.