Ooh, look, one week of NaBloPoMo down, successfully. Excellent.

I rock.

Anyway. Housekeeping:

My blogroll has died and turned to compost and I shall have to create a whole new one from scratch and the very thought makes me want to slam the lap-top shut and hide in the bedroom with all seven Harry Potters a large mug of rum-adulterated cocoa. For a week.

When I asked what I should burble about next, Sol lavishly buttered me from head to foot, but firstly, and firmly, she said: ‘I’d like to read some fiction.’ [Good Lord. Fiction is hard, Barbie - Ed.]. And when I’d finished screaming in terror and running around in small circles [pathetic] I realised I do have an idea that might work bloggily. Might. I’m not sanguine. But I have a story brewing that is loosely episodic, and utterly lacking in story-arc, and I wanted to write brief episodes as they occured to me and see if any kind of proper plot actually developed or if the whole thing turned into a soap-opera, flailing relentlessly along with no resolution ever at all [or, indeed, as is considerably more probable, vanished into the Great Black Hole of Writer's Block]. Well. It’ll keep me busy, anyway. [Or not].

(It’s at times like this that the full-time job (with sodding commute of over-an-hour-each-way soddingness) loses its sparkling appeal. Funnily enough, the employers are not keen on the minions taking four-hour lunch-breaks dedicated to the finer points of internet literature and ranting).

Speaking of ranting, only SG V commented on the last post (Hi, SG! Hug!). Is that because no one read it or because those that did read it then backed away muttering ‘oo-er…’?

Oh, and spam! I am being spammed most egregiously. I am both amused and irritated by all this clever spam that reads very nearly like a slightly illiterate human being, and then you spot the web address is ‘live-sex-chat’ or ‘designer-handbags’. And one – the cheek of it! – actually said: ‘Good post, but you need to work on your spelling and punctuation, it lets you down’. To me! Of all people! Me! The Über-Speller! Punctuator of Accuracy! How’s that for failing its Turing test?

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6 Responses to Onwards

  1. Solnushka says:

    Not buttering, simply fan girl. Oooh! Oooh! Prospect of fiction from Reed! *Rubs hands together*

    I am considering arguing with you last post. In part, rather than in total, mind. This, however, will take a bit of time. Expect it next year.

  2. Robyn says:

    Umm. I did read the last post and did not back away. Rather, my somewhat dazed brain thought “well, no way I can add to that, I think you’ve covered most of it far better than I…” and wandered off to make scones for cricket.

    But I am happy to read whatever you are inspired to offer us. Fiction included.

  3. Ann Baylis says:

    What Robyn said, minus scones.

    (Scones! Yum! I forget it’s Springtime Down There.)

    Fiction is hotly awaited!

  4. Something a bit like what Robyn said here as well. I need an uninterrupted “sit and stare at the screen with my pondering hat on” session before I can respond to the post. I thought it was most insightful and interesting, and didn’t want to fire off a barely-considered response.

  5. Lilian says:

    I read your last post, and found it interesting, but I don’t think I have the brain-power to write an intelligent comment about it.

  6. Ben says:

    Being belittled by a spambot seems partiularly harsh, though thinking about it I guess that is what thet penis-enlargment mail is all about.


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