Today's supercalifragilisticexpiallidocious (and really who gives a damn about the spelling of this glorious word) and utterly splendid news is that I've actually achieved a real-live hole in one!! Yes, people - on the golf course and with all the rules of the great game in play. Quadruple hurrahs and bunting all round. I couldn't believe it! I thought the shot looked pretty good, and Marian & I watched it as it landed on the green, headed towards the hole and ... um ... just vanished!!! There was a second of silent shock and then we both started shrieking like banshees! (I'm always the consummate professional, as you know...). Not only that but I managed to get my best ever score, and so did Marian - after she achieved not one, but two pars! Ye gods and little fishes, Tiger Woods better watch out now as we have him in our sights for sure. I am still grinning like a banana - one the right way round. Gosh. All I need now to make my day complete is a publishing deal for The Gifting (ho ho!) and my work here is done, Carruthers ...


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Here I am, trying to sound a teensy-weensy bit cleverer than wot I normally do, with my review of Kate Grenville's superb The Idea of Perfection.

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Took a while to get into Hallsfoot's Battle this morning - but suddenly in the last half hour before I had to leave I was there. In that skin-tingly zone where the writing is okay and even almost flowing. Ye gods indeed. Lordy, but it's so good when that happens. Ideas were zipping their way from the head to the fingertips and I knew how to end the scene and start the conflict. Ruddy hurrah! It's thrown up a whole load of other ideas and themes for the rest of the book too, but hell that's the way I like it. It's best to have too much in the head than too little. Here's hoping I can remember at least some of it, eh. Anyway, I'm at 29,000 words now and might even reach 30,000 over the weekend. That's about a quarter of a fantasy novel then. Heck. Somebody phone for an ambulance - I need a lie-down ...


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The neighbour seemed better last night, thank goodness – his daughter decided to stay over and the situation seemed to be much calmer. Phew. Will pop round after work tonight to see how things are, but I suspect that Daughter has it all in hand. She’s great.

Oh and I thought last night’s first episode of “Mutual Friends” was pretty fabulous, apart from Keeley Hawes, who must surely have cornered the market in cold women by now … But I loved the menfolk and am, I suspect, already hooked. Being me, I particularly loved the child-hating man, who couldn’t remember the names of his friend’s children. Bliss! And actually so very true – I do always have to think about that ...


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My mention of steak knives in my last post obviously touched a nerve (I realise that's a slightly nervous-making metaphor, but never mind) so, in conversation with a few of my fellows, I've been rounding up the most annoying things we get asked, with suggested answers. Alternative answers gratefully received, and any other questions too. (And you'll find I'm experimenting with dropping the funny-word-verification-thingy. If I get bored with deleting spam comments, I'll have to put it back)

Top Five questions that drive aspiring writers mad:

Q: Hoping to be the next JKR, eh? A: Well, I wouldn't mind her money, but I hope I write better than she does.

Q: Isn't it only celebrities who get published these days? A: No. Look at the debut novel prizelists: not a celebrity in sight.

Q: What makes you think you'll ever be successful?

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Got to work today and found out our office computers weren’t working. So not much else I could do whilst IT got it sorted apart from some much-needed tidying and rationalisation (now there’s a working day word if I ever heard one) of my desk and in-tray. My, I feel totally cleansed now. Like a new woman. Which should surprise Lord H tonight if it were true, I must say.

However, all things were restored by mid-morning, so I have chased everyone under the sun about the frighteningly close first round of Freshers’ events. And some (oh thank you, thank you!) blessed people are even beginning to reply, hurrah. With information too. Good Lord ...


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I must first of all say I ended up watching the Spielberg film, Artificial Intelligence, last night. What a load of drivel! Though the zappier parts with Jude Law in it in the middle were quite fun. On the whole, it was a rather typical Spielberg overschmalz and it would have been much better if the wretched little boy and his irritating super-teddy could have been killed at the beginning. Now that would have been interesting for sure, but in the meantime somebody pass me the vomit bucket, groan ...


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Autumn does seem to have arrived, doesn't it? And it's not just the weather and the plum jam-and-crumpets; across the aspiring writer world, the first thing that's asked once the sand's been shaken out of the beach towels, and the piles of posts combed for those dishearteningly fat SAEs, is, 'Are you doing NaNoWriMo this year?

NaNoWriMo, for the unintiated, is National Novel Writing Month. The idea is that those who sign up spend November writing, furiously, towards the standard goal of a 50,000 word novel. The website makes no bones about the focus of the whole thing: "the ONLY thing that matters in NaNoWriMo is output. It's all about quantity, not quality." The website also has busy, supportive forums, places to track and/or post your wordcount, and post some or all of your novel. In NaNoWriMo's home, the US, there's even schools-based Young Writers programme. On November 3rd a great many aspiring writers decide it's not for them, but at midnight on November 30th, a great many other, baggy-eyed, hysterical, triumphant NaNo-ers bow their heads to the smoking keyboard, listen to the shrieks going up from the forums, and wait to receive a downloadable certificate of achievement.

And, as Autumn follows Summer, if there's a slow news day on the literary pages, a journalist will ring up a big-name agent or publisher or author or six, and say, 'Can you write a good novel in a month?'

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In spite of the rain and the wind (typical August weather indeed), Lord H and I opted for a day's birdwatching in ... um ... Beachy Head today. Goodness me, yes, it was windy, very windy. And there weren't that many people about, at least in the morning - surprise, surprise ... Only mad dogs and Englishman go to Beachy Head in near blizzard conditions, you know.

But, my goodness, it was wonderfully dramatic - which made up for it all ...


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I have performed my Daughterly Duty today as Lord H and I have spent the day at Mother's. To prepare for this momentous occasion, I took two calming pills and one Vitamin B De-Stress pill with breakfast. Good to have a healthy diet, you know. Much to our astonishment, the journey there was almost entirely clear of traffic and even the A12 (Gawd bless it) had moving cars on it. Well, miracles can still occur then - but it does make me wonder where the hell everyone actually was. Have they gone abroad or are they staying in to watch the Olympics? It's a mystery. Anyway, as a result we arrived earlier than usual, and poor Mother was still donning her Difficult Daughter armour in order to get through her day. We might have been even earlier, but when we were parking outside the house, Lord H and I had a five minute discussion as to whether we could get away with peeking in at the window and then leaving a note saying "sorry but you were out" before making good our escape. Ah, dream on, eh ...


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