Another week full of me running around whining about how busy I am. When you break it down though, I’ve been mainly flouncing about and going for dinner.
The Invisible Library by Genevieve Cogman (which CANNOT be the given name of a steampunk author. Surely?), which is a fantasy/adventure romp featuring a librarian, who works for the titular institution, gathering rare books across dimensions at much personal peril. I got this for Christmas, and whipped through and enjoyed it. Interestingly, this was self published first, then picked up by a traditional publisher when it became a success. To be honest it did feel a little underedited – some points were belaboured a little too long, some set pieces needed reading twice, etc. But don’t listen to me, I’m just bitter. This is pretty much the exact plot of a novel I spent FOUR BLOODY YEARS writing before abandoning after realising all my characters were lumpen charicatures and I didn’t have a clue how it might end.
Mr Holmes, which I missed the first time round and saw on dvd at the weekend, surrounded by sleeping parents. This is the story of a Holmes in his 90’s, retired and keeping bees in curmudgeonly isolation, save his housekeeper and her son. Harrowing and beautiful and so clever, I absolutely loved this. A tear jerker though, especially if you’re already feeling a bit fragile because of the Great Celebrity Loss Week of early 2016.
Luther. So late to the party on this one and only two episodes in, but I am GRIPPED. There is just so much incident, isn’t there? I’m used to spending an entire series building up to the kind of drama this show cracks off before the opening credits. Also, I know it’s a cliche, but Idris Elba <3 <3 <3
A really popular blog post. Thanks guys! That was my most viewed thing, ever. To all the people who commented and said it had helped them in some way – I love you and this is the entire reason I write anything at all. To the guy who commented saying he’d looked through my old profile pictures and could confirm that I was, indeed, pretty hot when I was fat – I think you might have missed my point a bit, mate.
Another five query letters. Keep on keeping on. Two rejections so far. Quietly hopeful!
My New Novel, which is going to be about maybe shipwrecks and history, is still in gestation phase. To help it along, I’ve signed up for a scratch night in March so I can get some of the ideas and characters up on their feet. Exciting! I’m meant to be on hiatus from poetry, and this is so far my third gig of March. …oops.
Hung out in Amsterdam a bit. We went to the Modern Art Museum (is anyone re-releasing Picasso’s fabrics anytime soon? Because, if not, why not?) and my favourite restaurant in the world (this one) and favourite bar in the world (this one).
It is also four years since we met, and less than a month until we marry. Doesn’t time move bloody fast?
Had a variety of domestic disasters. But I am running late and really want to play Sherlock Holmes: Consulting Detective and drink Prosecco, so you’ll have to wait until another time to hear about me being patronised by the dishwasher installation man about my lack of Tennon saws and sunken cupcakes.
Slightly Sucked At Operation Healthy Living. Since last writing I have had five rest days from the 30 day shred. I think this is probably too many rest days.
Wasn’t kidding about the prosecco…