Anyone still there?

Wouldn't be surprised of you'd all given up and wandered off elsewhere by now. Anyway if anyone is still out there - I'm Back. Frazzled , dazed and requiring an 'I must never do anything like that again' sticker on my forehead, but back nonetheless.

I'll spare you the details (I've saved them for hubby dearest and my coffee morning friends who keep promising me I'm not boring them, honest). But basically I've been working too much and playing too little. Culmination was two weeks underground (well in a TV studio gallery with no natural light which amounts to the same thing in my limited experience) for hours on end with about ten zillion quiz questions flying past me as I shouted: "Correct!" "Wrong" "Erm, give me a minute on that one".

'Tis all done and dusted now though and I'm back to normal (Ha!).

In amongst the madness I have passed a major milestone in my writing career - on Tuesday I submitted the synopsis and first three chapters of my novel to an agent - Eeek. I now have to do what I am most rubbish at - be patient. I know that even a flat rejection could take months. So I really must stop jumping up every time the phone rings and checking my emails every two minutes.

I'm filling the time in going over my manuscript with a beady eye, tweaking and twaddling - and thank goodness I did because yesterday I discovered that my character's brother who is two years younger than her at the beginning of the story transmogrified into her elder brother by the end. How did that happen? It's not meant to be sci-fi. Have now righted that particular wrong (opted for the younger brother option as that was what I originally intended.) Just hope I've not missed any other major inconsitencies along the way.

Next job is to wade through my womag resubbing opportunites and get them sent out again, write my first SAF story in about three months and have a look through Sally's excellent comps calender to see what's coming up. Oh and then there's the tricky issue of Novel #2 - I really must start scribbling down some ideas.

Adolescent muse

Some days my writing is like a truculent teenager. I have to coax it out of its fetid den with promises of biscuits and cake.

Today was like that. I avoided looking it directly in the eye, just let it amble at its own pace across the page. I edited tentatively around it, made sure it was fed and watered, brushed the crumbs off its jumper, and resisted the urge to smooth down its hair. Kept my critical lip buttoned up.

And it worked. 2,000 words crept onto the page. Then it said "Can I go now?" and I let it slink back to its room taking the last of the chocolate hobnobs with it. Hope its in a better mood next time I knock on its door.