Love that line. It rings true with me. You can see more like this over at Kelly Spitzer's blog, as she plays word association with Tania Hershman.

And while I'm talking of Tania, the new issue of The Short Review's out.

I noticed WomenRuleWriter picked up on the same quote as I did. It's this:

"I think that a "story" has to have a beginning, a middle, and an end. There has to be a situation, and characters, and the characters have to DO things -- things that have an effect on the situation and the other characters -- and the characters must be changed by the effects of those things. A lot of modern fiction is just vignettes, not stories -- the difference is that the characters don't take any action, or there isn't an end" - David D Levine

And I'm not sure that not having an 'end' is a bad thing. I like it when I know the characters carry on after the story's finished, and I like vignettes; being shown a situation can be every bit as affecting and big as being taken on the journey of a story. I'm not disagreeing with him totally, he has a point. I quite like the sound of his collection too...

What do you think?

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After waking up from a sweaty mid-afternoon dream involving Pauline, Mavis and napalm, I leave the flat while still half-asleep and take the tube to Hammersmith where I sit across the street from Harper Collins, getting up from the concrete wall every ten minutes or so to walk off some of the cold.

Mavis leaves the building around four o’clock, throwing a large scarf around herself like a cape, but I ignore her.

At five, a man who I think is Jason - one of the executives or at least someone high up – emerges and I run across the street and accost him before he can get to the staff car park...

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At Goldsmiths last week, Ian McEwan was reading from his work in progress, which is so much in progress that it has yet to acquire a title. (Mind you, in my case that can be any time before the proofs go out...) We all felt a little thrilled, and settled back to listen, and it didn't disappoint. During the questions he was asked if reading unpublished work was different from the more usual business of reading from newly-published novels, and he said it was.

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We got into the car and went in search of a Real Christmas Tree. It had been raining for three days solid. We didn't know what to expect. The Australian had warned me not to get my hopes up. The Boy was articulating his extreme displeasure at being in the car by screaming. The Girl was shouting over him that she wanted THE BIGGEST TREE EVER IN THE WORLD. I just wanted to feel Christmassy, that's all...

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I have been trying for a long time to get a story accepted by Smokelong Quarterly, a flash fiction magazine I admire greatly. Finally, it has come to pass! Read my story, Coat and Shoes, beautifully illustrated by Robinson Accola, and the accompanying interview. I am alongside some fabulous writers: Stefanie Freele, Barry Graham, Kuzhali Manickavel, and names that aren't familiar to me but whose work I look forward to reading. Every issue of SQ is a treat.

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I'm surprised and pleased that, after well over a month, people are still downloading the short, short story I wrote for Halloween. To be honest, I was surprised when it was being downloaded a week after. Just shows, you never can tell. (I just hope those who are listening to it like it!)

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The grandchildren are at that in-between age for pantomime, when they think it's for 'kids' , so I was resigned to 'Madagascar 2' and a meal at Nando’s for their annual Christmas outing.

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There is a funny atmosphere in the office today; the tree is wonky, the lights on it are broken and the fairy is hanging by its neck. Our attempt at cheering things up in our department failed miserably as the lights blew up and singed the few Christmas cards that we did have, and my festive plant has collapsed on my desk - I am not sure why. perhaps we are all still tired from Friday's festivities... I happen to mention this in passing in the ladies toilets only to be told that it is probably due to the fact that a guy from the sales team tried to strangle one of our managers during the Secret Santa giving. A little disappointed with his gift perhaps? - Socks, again? Or perhaps he is just tired of Christmas...



The saga continues...

I have organised a book signing two months after my novel’s release primarily for my own amusement. On a whim I called my home town Dartford’s only local bookshop and the owner, Graham, said Yes immediately. I could almost hear him shrugging over the phone.

“I’m not expecting a great deal of people,” I warned him.

“I shouldn’t hire extra security then?” he said. I like him...

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Father Christmas came today (looking suspiciously like my slightly dishevelled-looking postman) and delivered the best present that I could have wished for (and early too!).


Now I know that you're not supposed to open your pressies early, but I'd been given the heads-up that this was coming, and told to open it when it did.


My hands were shaking as I unwrapped the gold-and-silver paper that the lovely people at Macmillan had so carefully packaged the contents in, and as I pulled the paper apart...there it was.


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