What Cat does when the sun is shining and the birds are singing:

Ah, I’m in lust with that bit of shiny right now.

You know what I wish you could still get?

I remember passing hours immersed in the stories and poems, turning the pages with the chime. I had favourites - Gobbolino the witch’s cat, the marrog from mars, shorty the satellite, that story about the boy who painted things that came to life…

What childhood things do you wish were still available?

Black pepper Danish feta, black mission olives, spaghetti, swiss chard….mmmm I have the makings of a yummy supper.

Not much writing done today. Instead I took the sprogs out for milkshake and chips, and bought them new shoes. *is now bankrupt*

Bee came around last night and dropped off some more Scrubs for us. Yay, I have stuff to watch tonight.

Unisa is pissing me off because their site is made of fail and nothing ever loads. I want to study further (yeah, I know I say this every year and then never have the money for it, but I am planning this one in advance - good idea, right?) and I’m kinda stumped as to what direction to take. Since I’m not studying for a career, but purely for my own pleasure I have way more options open to me, and yeah, I’m kinda spoiled for choice. I need to focus a bit. Of course it would SO help if I could actually find the Unisa Calender pdf on their site.

I know many writers work at their craft 7 days a week for fear of losing the rhythm.

Personally, I just can’t do that  because if I don’t give myself a break like a normal person then I start resenting having to write. Not a good mental state for me.

This weekend was spent running around doing grocery shopping, visiting family, and working in the garden. I also got my dvd from the dance and it depressed me greatly. Ugh, I really should just stop eating.

I’m ready for July to be over. Come on, August - I want to go fly kites already!

On mtd, I can happily say I’ve reached a 1/5th milestone.

20,038 / 100,000 (20.0%)

Sweet, right?

I’ve finally, almost 80 pages in, got Jeren and Eremaste into what’s left of MallenIve.

And now we have ghosts. *rubs hands*

I should go do some rewrites on hob now, yes. Hmm. Look at me procrastinating. *spies comic near her desk* Oh look! Season Of Mists! How long has it been since I read that? Catwaxery here I come!!!

Oh bugger. Hob, hob, I haven’t forsaken you, I swear.

Granted, I’m steering clear of the culinary evil that it pobs, but the wee sprogs and The Slave are happy for me to make it. They think it’s a treat. Sick sick people.

Normally Tuesdays and Thursdays are my days to get the house in order and catch up on writing while the sprogs are at their g’anny. Everyone’s sick today though, so they are home and making me laugh so much my cheeks hurt.

Noa is pretending Tanith is an alien monster (not a stretch of the imagination, to be sure, but I digress) and shooting her with a lego harpoon. The dialogue, between tiny tot giggling, is pretty much hysterical.

Noa “No! The alien monster is coming! I must shoot it!”

Tanith *giggles, roars and screeches, then gets shot with said lego arrow. Giggles some more*

Noa “It’s gone to LONDONS!!! I need to go on an aeroplane!!”

Tanith *rawr*

Noa “TOKEEYO IS DESTROYED! NOW IT’S DESTROYING THE CAPE TOWN!!!”

Tanith *eats winnie the pooh learning card*

Me “Uh, try not to eat that.” *has stroke of genuis and makes tiny jam sandwich men with currant eyes* “Here, eat these instead.”

Both children *WTF*

***

and I have another 1441 words on MTD, bringing the wordcount to: 15 130/ 100 000

Sweet.

Last night I dreamed about MTD, which is basically my subconscious giving me the go-ahead to write it.

Would you write a book if you knew that it would never get published?

I was thinking about this, and for me the answer is yes. God knows, I might get a tad more mercenary in my old age, but right now what drives me to write is the fact that these are the stories I want to read.

Feel free to mock me though.

Alternatively, tell me what it is that drives you to keep writing.

Three weeks of refilling the well, and I’m writing again.

I’ve learnt not to beat myself up over these fallow periods. My brain needs them, and I write better after I’ve had the chance to recharge.

So there’s progress on MTD which really needs some kind of working working title. MTD is just too clunky. Current stats 6946/100 00, and halfway through chapter three.

Favourite bit today:

And now the rub. “Rommer wants us out the city.”

“Of course.” He snorts, then loosens the belt strapping him to his seat. “In his position, I’d have done the same.”

“How comforting.”

Stev claps me on the shoulder. “Come now, Merrick. I’m a practical man. Far more so than Rommer, anyway. If it had been me, I wouldn’t have sent my co-conspirators out on a wild goat chase. I’d have poisoned you.”

“You’re a wonderful friend,” I mutter drily.

“We haven’t been friends since University. Now, something to drink?”

“Anything stronger than tea. And I’ll pour it myself, thanks.”

Andrew Wheeler’s take on Terry Goodkind’s new book deals.

One of the things the post got me thinking about was the idea that by writing mainstream novels instead of genre, you’re somehow a better class of writer.

Is it a holdover from the days of ’50s pulp?  Or is it just the rather odd concept that the majority of genre writers are mediocre hacks churning out formulaic by-the-numbers kak in order to meet deadlines?

I like to write stories about people and things that interest me. Strange things, strange people. Guess if that makes me a genre hack then I’ll happily wear the mantle. It just saddens me that we compartmentalise fiction so readily, and that often translates to people not reading a book because “all that fantasy crap about dragons and elves” or “westerns in space - I don’t get it - give me a book about normal people.”

Which makes very little sense to me because I don’t think any story is totally driven by Joe Ordinary. We read and write about people bigger than ourselves - whether it’s romance, SF, literary,  thrillers, chicklit, or mainstream.

So - what’s your opinion?

Possibly. I certainly hope so.

Sarah Lotz’s Pompidou Posse is out now from PenguinSA. I haven’t read it, but it certainly looks interesting. (Except for the diary bits, because I tend to not like epistolary novels*)

“It’s the late eighties and British teenagers Vicki and Sage go on the
run in Paris after burning down their art-school pottery shed. Penniless,
homeless, and worst of all, out of cigarettes, it isn’t long before
they find themselves living on the streets….”

*And just to be contradictory, I love Adrian Mole. So there.