How To Be A Writer Part 2: Be Obsessed

So, now that you have your sacred writing space taken care of, the next thing you need to do is write. 

This is my favorite mug... (on the other side it has 'Romance writers make novel lovers').

The washing will wait, so will the tidying, and the cleaning, and the cooking.  I put writing first.  I have to put writing first or it will disappear entirely, and the damn book will never be finished.  Then I'm left feeling irritated, frustrated, overwhelmed and cranky.  I am a much nicer person when writing comes first, trust me.

I'm not saying that anyone needs to spend four, five, ten hours a day writing whilst their beautiful children turn into tv zombies and quietly (or not so quietly) starve to death.  But I give myself some time every day to write, and then get on with the chores.  That is being a writer.  Ten minutes of writing on a hellish, out of control day, is going to still makes me feel like I'm getting somewhere.  Not opening my manuscript, but having all the laundry neatly folded, does not move me closer to my goal. 

Being engaged with your writing is also something that'll keep you moving forward. So, if I'm early to pick up the kids, I spend that ten minutes focussing on my plot, plot problems and holes, having ideas, considering character.  I jot down notes, often on the back of old receipts which I then lose and spend fruitless time searching for only to find them three months later on the floor of the car. 

Its not just using down time either - when you are busy doing things that don't really engage your brain, get into the habit of thinking about your work.  I believe it was Agatha Christie who said she got her best ideas when she was doing the washing up.

This all might sound a touch obsessive, but seriously, to push through and get an 100,000 word manuscript written needs a touch of obsession.  I have calculated that to get 100,000 publishable words, I write in excess of 300,000 words (that also has a lot to do with my writing style, and other writers don't work that way).  When you have a busy life (and who doesn't) and conflicting priorities, you need to be very focused on what you want, and how you are going to get it.

You want to be a writer, then you write.

:)

How To Be A Writer Part 1: Sacred Space

There is often talk in writerly places that  focus on inspiration and motivation, about creating a sacred space where you work. Here you can come and channel your muse, or muses, or get in the zone, or do whatever floats your boat. 

I often think these people do not have children, a family, or even a small cat.

Here is my current writing space...

If I have somewhere to sit and nobody to bother me then its sacred.

Melting, I'm melting... also underpants

FFS, about day 550 of 40+ temps.  So over it.  The garden is breaking my heart, what with the temperature and the high winds everything is burnt to a crisp. I'm watering as much as possible - but I think even if I had the sprinklers on 24/7 we'd still be losing stuff, the heat is so intense and the UV so high, that it's sunburning all the leaves.  All the cucumbers, zuchinni, my blueberry patch, lettuces and remaining strawberries are stuffed, even my lone pumpkin is badly sunburnt.  sigh.  I always hate gardening in summer.

As we've been pretty much housebound due to the heat I have been trying to use my time productively, mostly this has involved yelling at the kids, but inbetween I've been clearing out the pantry.  Illuminating experience that.  Let's just say that if there is a cinnamon stick shortage in the future then I've pretty much got the whole suburb covered. 

All this housewifely endeavor has not been with out its pitfalls, oh goodness no.  I emptied the detritus at the bottom of various draws into rubbish bags with holes in them no less than THREE times, hubs has given up putting the dustpan and brush away and now has them out on standby.  I also plunged one of the aforementioned drawers into the over full sink, causing an epic tidal wave that soaked my only pair of shorts - I took them off, as they keep falling down anyway, only to discover that...
1. My underpants were on inside out (again).
2. When I clench my buttocks it makes the tag at the back stick out, relax and it lays flat again.  (see, a silver lining - a new talent - should I add it to the Resume? Yes? No?)

Due to present cashflow issues I am considering using the expired goods for dinner tonight - draw the line at 2009 maybe? No, perhaps 2008?  Oh I kid.  But you can sieve weevils out of flour, right? right?

Anyhoo. 

I appear to have missed welcoming the Chinese Year of the Rabbit - though oddly, had a random Chinese food craving on what turned out to be Chinese new year - spooky eh? 
So welcome, year of the wabbit, I hope you don't turn into the year of Mr Wabbit - for OS readers this is a vastly witty pun on the name of our opposition leader Mr Abbott, who likes to parade around in budgie smugglers and use natural disasters and the misery of ordinary people to further his own agenda and display his vast insensitivity and self-absorption, erm anyway, skip that part, just look at the cute picture below...

新年快樂 

or Xin Nian Kuai Le

or Happy New Year

Abiding by my fine principles as usual...

I was going to post a Real Food flowchart up here today, but then I started to get dinner ready for my children. Oh and its drinkies time...

Ah yes. This is how far I have fallen. THIS is what school holidays do to an otherwise sane and capable person (ahem).  Remember the girl who buys local tomatoes and makes litres of her own tomato paste and then is smug about it for months?  This is what has become of her.  Will feel shame at any moment, bubbles are hitting system right now, but shame is certainly lurking in there somewhere.

In other news its 40+ degrees, and I've spent over an hour sitting next to a swimming pool in jeans (because they were the only bit of clothing that passed for kind of clean - I'm so far behind with the washing that it'll take until March to catch up).  Mmm, sweaty.

But please don't think I've completely let myself go, hell no... in a fit of heathfulness I have added orange juice to the bubbles.

Just so nobody feels deprived, here is the Real Food chart...

February? Already?

• Holy crap Queensland, look after each other, and don't do anything stupid, k?
• Went to see Sting at the Sydney Opera House last night, with the Sydney Symphony orchestra.  Awesome - however, I now despise Foot Tappers.  They join a short list of things I utterly hate, which is... people who make me high five them, people who point at me with two hands, and people who shout Aussie Aussie Aussie, thus making me shout Oi, Oi, Oi - oh the indignity.
• Anyway, Sting. OMG.  Don't really have the words to describe sitting in the SOH Concert hall as the audience sing Message in a Bottle accompanied by Sting on his guitar; spine tingling comes close.  Must say though, he does seem to have a rather bizarre fox fetish - hmm.
• The children have gone back to school - yes, the less said about Those Holidays the better, I have counselling tomorrow, maybe then I'll be able to attempt to write about The Horror.
• BBS... yes, I will. The fug in my head is starting to clear, and I'm finding my words again. I will be back soon.  Promise.

:)

Two weeks to go...

Crafty people - they're doing an awesome raffle over at The Red Thread to raise money for flood victims.  Link here .  You can win a sewing machine, sewing patterns, sewing kits n' everythink...  I was once a crafty person, cross stitch and tapestry being my main vices, however, since the advent of kids... well you know the story.

siiiiiigh.

Two more weeks of school holidays to go... 

• Miss 5 is chucking daily tantrums that she does not want to go to kindi, despite having spent all last year in a 'transition' year at the same school and is moving into the next door classroom.  
• I have spent all my gardening money on school shoes.  
• I have dragged out all the uniforms, and untold random white school socks that I am trying to match according to their level of greyness.  
• And I have whipped out the iron (for the second time in twelve months) to start ironing on name labels. (It was also my inaugural use of my Brand New Mosman-ish Ironing Board Cover - which, incidentally, matches my oven gloves - never let it be said I don't have this interior decorating thingy down pat)
• All of this is in the hope that it will make the next fortnight go faster
• Also my children are nagging me about Easter.

Because I am not quite exhausted enough, I am also making my next assault on the Vile colour schemes in this house which I have lived with for seven long years.  This week I am painting over The Brown in the main bedroom.  This year is the year of me, and me can no longer endure The Brown inflicting itself upon my boudoir. 

Oh and I'm changing the name of the Year of Me - is sounds a bit, yanno, self absorbed (what?), am now calling it the Year of Wellbeing.

Laters :)

Salient Points of Last Ten Days

Three words. School. Fricking. Holidays.

In summary...

• 1.2kgs to go to goal weight - God alone knows how, given I start drinking earlier every day.
• Got self first new swimmers in eight years - Storm in a D-Cup is brilliant for those of you out there who have lost 13+kgs but not One Single Centimetre off their gigantic mammaries (no, there is no justice in this world).  I tell you, when gravity gets to those babies...
• New swimmers led to foray into self-waxing of bikini line (could not face trip to salon with children, explanations would be bad enough...).  Went for landing strip, and after much weeping and swearing, ended up with plucked chicken.
• Watermelon exploded in kitchen spraying several litres of fermenting juice over every surface - as was leaving house at that exact moment threw down a couple of towels and let it fester in 30 degree heat for six hours.
• Luckily children and dog have been using lounge carpet as urinal, so stench of ammonia presently overpowering any lingering rotten fruit smell - WIN
• Found baby Brush Turkey behind drinks fridge in laundry - was, by this point, beyond surprise (took to vet, who will pass onto WIRES)
• Writing? Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, sob...
• Cried over the QLD floods, feeling exhausted by the Victorian ones
• Cried for Lori - in fact still crying for Lori, my heart breaks for you my love, life fucking sucks
• and... nope, I'm done...

RWA Flooded Communities Book Appeal

I know from the Black Saturday Bushfires that there is real satisfaction in choosing a book to send to someone who has lost everything...

We've all seen the devastation the recent Queensland floods have wrought and have wondered how we can help. We know that for many affected families, books will not be high on their priorities list for some time to come.

But...

We also know how valuable books can be in providing time out when reality gets tough.

So…

With the aid of some wonderful volunteers, we've put together a Romance Writers of Australia Flooded Communities Book Appeal.

What we need?

FICTION BOOKS! Romance books, children's books, young adult books, genre books, whatever – either new or in sparkling condition.

Please send them to:

RWA Flooded Communities Book Appeal

PO Box 1717

Noosaville Post Office

Noosaville BC

Queensland 4566

When to send them?

Now! And any time over the next few months. The books will be boxed and delivered to the appropriate libraries/schools/neighbourhood centres/community centres in batches as soon as the communities are ready to receive them. We’ll be liaising with councils, libraries and schools to ensure this is done appropriately. Feel free to pop a note inside, or if you're an author, sign it.

Questions:

If you have a question about donations, email Jess Anastasi:Jess@jessanastasi.com

If you work in a library / council / community centre / school in a flood affected area, email Rachel Bailey: rachel@rachelbailey.com.au

Happy New Year

New Year is always full on at our house, what with one birthday on the 31st and another on the 1st. (Miss 5 and Me, now Mrs 39, sigh).  But we have survived, kind of.

I take my New Years resolutions very seriously.  I am extremely goal motivated, and so when I set out to do something I generally achieve it.  The one grand exception to this has been losing weight, but this year I even managed to achieve that, with my current weight now at a trim and terrific 68.8kgs - just 1.8kgs above a healthy BMI.  Given that I had an obese BMI six months ago I am presently LOVING MYSELF SICK - although I would like to discuss the saggy Mummy bum that's attached itself behind me, not to mention the jelly belly that honestly looked better when it was a bit rounder, and the fact I STILL HAVE FAT ANKLES with someone.

Ahem.

Anyway, resolutions.

This year is the year of Me.

Its going to be about getting myself back, about prioritising things I want to do, instead of leaving them at the bottom of the list, about slowing down and living in the moment, getting space and being better at the things that are important to me (like kids, and garden, and home, and writing).

The last seven years seem to have disappeared into a fug of babies, stress, exhaustion and an endless feeling of being not quite good enough.  I know that this is pretty much par for the course when you've got rug rats about, but now that they're both at school, I think its time to get me back. In fact, its essential for the wellbeing of me and my family.

Blogging-wise, I might not be about as much as before.  Not because I don't want to be here, but I have GOT to get writing.  Boys of Summer has been dragging on for nearly 18months now, I'm over it and I need to get it done, and move onto Fat Chance.  My publisher, Samhain, recently took me off their active authors list, and that has been a big wake up call for me.  My 1000 words a day have to come first.

Its also going to be the Year of Landscaping the Garden and Painting the House.

Actually, I'm excited.  I think 2011 is going to be a good year.

Merry Crimbo

Was I a bit bah humbug the other day?  My apologies. Its been a christmas lead up like no other.

But things, as of this afternoon, have found their equilibrium and christmas cheer has burst forth in the Nicholas household - we even put on carols at St Mary's for an entire five minutes - then we were made to switch to Wallace and Grommit.

We've spent the evening making icecream (had slight measuring brain-fail and managed to squeeze out a gigantic 2 cups worth for  7 people, sigh) and visiting neighbours and admiring christmas lights and eating mince pies (yes, I can eat again, not complaining about the 2kgs in 4 day weight loss, but would prefer in future to do it with slightly more dignity).  The kids were so excited that (in our own Christmas miracle) they both passed out the minute we put them in bed - yes, yes, we'll be up at dawn (5.14 if you were wondering).

Well, its 55mins to Christmas, and I must away to bed.  Season's cheer to everyone who reads here.  Take care, be safe and have an awesome day.

Twas the Week Before Christmas...

My mother just rang, having a stress about christmas.  Fair enough, you may think, its a stressful time for anyone, but here is a short list of what has been going on in addition to your usual christmas kerfuffle.

• My youngest sister has been trying to get on a plane, from Heathrow (news just in: she departed 25mins ago - so now 24hrs of worrying about plane crashes and it'll be fine)
• My brother in law, who has been recovering beautifully from his spine operation, came out of hospital yesterday (in record time - YAY).  
• My nephew who has been suffering from chronic ear infections has been ferried about to specialists and a grommit operation is looming on the horizon
• The vet ballsed up my sister's dog's cruciate ligament operation and thought that this week would be a good week to fix it all up ("you'll only have to pay for the anaesthetic") - because what someone with an incapacitated husband and sick toddler needs is a dog that can't even get itself outside to go to the bathroom
• I got food poisoning - and not just your normal 24hour type food poisoning; its been so bad that I haven't been able to function since Sunday, and in a great improvement managed to eat two tablespoons of boiled rice yesterday.  Apparently my gut has shed its lining, about which I have no idea, but I do know its really fricking painful.

It can only improve from here, right?

Cocktail Hour, Caitlyn Nicholas Style

What? Serving cocktails in the measuring scoop that came free with an extra large bag of dog food IS classy. The champagne chasers are necessary, trust me.

Today has involved christmas shopping (DONE, yesssss), 35 degree heat, violent thunderstorms, bickering with my husband (all good now, have been shown error of my ways at length, in detail, repeatedly, LOVE YOOO), feral children, Miss 4 crapping in the pool (again) and then a fight with the dog to get the floaty out before he dived in and ate it (and managed to do that without sacrificing pool scoop this time, WIN).

Was considering doing a bit of a photo blog post about my day As-It-Happens sometime these holidays, am glad today was not that day.

Cocktail recipe: Applesinthe
45ml Absinthe
30ml apple juice
splash lemon juice, splash sugar syrup
Mint leaves 

Not my year for garlic

Lately have been feeling Very Pleased (ie, jealous as hell) when I read about Other Bloggers harvesting their bumper crop of garlic.  I love home grown garlic and this year put in three huge patches, but, as with so many other things in this garden, it has not worked out as planned, and here is the sum total of my garlic harvest for 2010...

sigh.  

After planting over 100 onion seedlings (most of which I bought) I've also ended up with about half a dozen golf-ball sized onions - I did lose a lot to the wretched escapologists chickens - but even so, its just not been my year for alliums this year.

But in cheerier news, followed Greenfumb's example and picked the largest and most alluring of my tomatoes and they're now ripening on the kitchen windowsill.

Did I mention to anyone before that I'm slightly allergic to raw tomatoes?  Um yes (now do you see why I feel so strongly about The Universe Hating ME???). But I still love growing them, and eating them when they've had the crap cooked out of them.  So, YUMS.

:)

Close Encounters of the Oprah kind

So, have been a bit miffed that I missed out on a ticket to Oprah but today fate, fortune or whatever, smiled down on me and quite by accident I got to see her and say hi.

We were down at the Opera House, at the last of the baby proms for the year.  The place was utter chaos, as all the Oprah audience were queuing for tickets, and a huge stage and tv camera's were being set up on the forecourt.  Oprah herself was walking over the harbour bridge and the place was seething with helicopters.  Even a skywriter had written the letters O H R A in the sky (and then clearly given up in embarrassment at his spelling mistake - or was it initials... Oprah Has Royal Authority??)

We carolled away with Saskia from Playschool and members of the Sydney Symphony Orchestra at the proms, and then went for our usual wander in the botanic gardens.  Then as we headed back to lunch at Circular Quay I saw a bit of a fuss near where they'd set up the huge stage.  So I hurried over, phone in hand and as I got to the barrier, who should be standing there but...

Yes, yes, not her best angle :)  Sorry Oprah.  She was chatting to the lady next to me about how she'd been up on the harbour bridge that morning.

Then she held out her hand to me, and I shook it, and squeaked, "Hi, its great to meet you, welcome to Australia."  Look, I was having a fan girl moment okay, I could barely get the words out, it was almost as bad as when I met Jackie French.

She smiled vaguely at me and then moved along to the next person - yes, am sure she'll be writing about meeting me on her blog this evening - and then I ducked out the way so the other ladies behind me could get a chance to say hi, and that was that.

Circular Quay has gone Oprah mad.  Oprah flags everywhere, and you could even get the t-shirt...

I did not get the t-shirt, but was amused by the fat hairy old guy wearing a t-shirt that said "Oprah Loves Me."

So, I've said Hi to the Queen of Daytime TV.  Rather chuffed actually.

Check out these beauties

Quick brother-in-law update:  The surgery went really well, though took a lot longer than expected, apparently his back was a mess of scar tissue from the earlier accident.  He was kind-of with-it by yesterday night and all is looking good. Phew.

Summer has arrived here on the Upper Upper Upper North Shore (locals will know that this is a humorous reference to the fact that real estate agents like to extend the poshness of the North Shore to suburbs that are blatantly not even remotely near the North Shore, in an effort to increase house prices - thus far this strategy has not appeared to work).  Temps are hitting 30+ every day and the humidity is hovering at around 50 - 60%, making the mould in the bathroom grow as you watch it.  Its also making the vegies grow as you watch them.

Amish Paste tomatoes.  This one is about the size of my fist.  Have a dilemma though, do I pick now and ripen inside, or leave to ripen on the vine and risk birds, chooks, caterpillers, snails, slugs etc etc...

Pumpkin - Queensland Blue I think - I dunno, this was a self-seeder so it could be anything.

And those there are my cucumbers growing everywhere apart from up the trellis I carefully set up.  Am a bit chuffed about these ones as they are grown from seed I saved last year.

Have a good weekend everyone :)

Hugs, finger crossing, vibes, thoughts, prayers... I'll take 'em all.

Today my brother-in-law is having a major operation. It'll take a surgeon 4 hours to fuse two of the vertebrae in his spine and hopefully this will relieve some of the horrific pain that he is enduring right now.

This is not a pleasant story.  Many years ago my bil badly injured his back in a car accident.  He's had serious problems ever since. Lately these serious problems have doubled and tripled in their intensity.  It has become a regular occurrence that he'd have injections into his spine to relieve the excruciating pain.

Then about ten days ago, his back spasmed and my sister knew immediately that this was like nothing before.  The pain went from excruciating to uncontrollable and my bil was taken to hospital where he has remained on a cocktail of drugs.  Last Thursday these drugs were failing to control the pain, and... well, its been really distressing.

So, after tomorrow we hope that after rehab, the pain will be over and he can get on with a normal life.  Oh, I hope it all goes okay.

Being Precious

So I rock up to my local garden centre on Sunday morning.  One of the employees is standing by the entrance and upon spotting me shouts, "Well hello there, precious."
Precious?
What the...
I gave him a quizzical glare look, removed my sunglasses from my head, put them on pointedly, and stalked off to inspect capsicums. Wondering briefly if I do come over as precious to complete strangers.
But he wasn't finished there.
No, when he came to relieve me of my money, he spotted the bottle of pyrethrum I'd picked up - I use it on the patio to get rid of the sandflies mostly - and he said 'Ah, chemical woman.'  As if I'd just confirmed all his assumptions about being precious.
Chemical woman?
I said, 'Okaaaaaay," in a tone that was supposed to suggest that I'd rather we didn't speak further.
But he just grinned and said, 'bye chemical girl.' And handed me back my card.

Its not been the only difficulty I've had communicating with the human race this week.
No.
Yesterday I had an appointment at a beauty salon for a person to go at my nether regions with hot wax and a pair of tweezers.  Yes, and pay them for the privilege.
Alas, in a moment of utter brainlessness I picked the Wrong Time to make this appointment.
Upon arriving at the salon I told the receptionist that I had to cancel that part of my appointment due to it being The Wrong Time.
"Wha?" she said.
"The Wrong Time," I said, slightly louder.
"Wha?" she squinted at me.
"I've got my PERIOD," I snap.  Just as every hairdryer in the place was switched off.

sigh.

More wildlife

2.75 hours into school holidays and Bloody Hell.  56 days to go.  Help meeeee.

In other news, on Monday I ate a turkey sandwich for lunch THEN walked outside and there was a brush turkey sitting on the roof.

Coincidence? I think not.

Clearly it was here to avenge its fallen comrades, OR sexually harass my chickens.  Either way, next door's dog scared it off, and it hasn't returned. Phew.  (Yes, you might be wondering where Sebs the Attack Spaniel was... after some half-hearted barking from under the outside table he disappeared inside to leave me to fend for myself.)

sigh.

Farewell Fat Clothes

Am not happy. Despite dieting my shrinking behind off, I did not lose weight this week.  It could be because I'm adjusting to the new weightwatchers regime, or it could be because I've got a scorching case of fluid retention or it could just be because sometimes dieting sucks.  Who knows.

So, am blogging about the fat clothes I got rid of on the weekend in an attempt to cheer self up and keep motivated and stop eating fantales.

There was a good pile of stuff that's around size 14 to 16 that I simply cannot wear anymore - it falls off. And my god it was a good feeling to clear it out of the drawers and cupboards. Its a symbol of what I've achieved, and I'm also not giving myself a place to go back to.  No siree.  If I put weight back on, I'll just have to suffer in my size 12 jeans until I lose it again.

Well, its a strategy. :)

The clothes have gone to Vinnies.

I cannot tell you the number of times people who have lost weight, who have tried to give me their old fat clothes.  Seriously. It happened again just a couple of months ago.  Why anyone who had lost weight would look around for their nearest overweight friend and go 'oh you look like you're a 16, here have my old stuff,' is beyond me.  Its devastating and humiliating.  And honestly, whilst I firmly believe in people's good intentions, to do that to someone is a sign that you are not a friend.  Yes, yes, I know they're often nice clothes and yes, the person is most likely right, they'd probably fit.  I understand their logic.  But the reality of this situation is cruel and hurtful.

This setback - of working incredibly hard on weightloss and getting nowhere - is really the first serious challenge I've faced. I'm surprised by how desperately I want to eat and how I've gone right back to the usual justifications and self-talk that I thought were dead and buried about six months ago.

sigh.

Wish me forbearance.

Gigantic Underpants Fail

I did it again.  Ran into Target and grabbed the first bulk pack of undies I saw in the right size. Am rueing the decision as I ended up with these...

Even more enormous than the horrific purply-grey ones I ended up with last time.  Do not think I will be able to bring self to wear them, though if I do and we are on a yacht and we lose the sails in a freak accident, I will be able to save the day and hoist a pair up.  Never let it be said that I am not versatile.

:)