Happy New Blog Year

....to all you lovely people!

(Got as many on as I could - love and light to all who escaped!)

Give yourself a new title this New Year - ah go on, you know you want to.

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: Baroness Katarina the Antediluvian of Much Leering Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

How cool is this? Nicked from Barbara -Her Noble Excellency Barbara the Coherent of Bumpstead under Carpet, ta!

So where are you all?

Oh yes, I remember.....

Now we have consumed more calories in one day than we would normally eat in a week, we have killed half a forest with enthusiastic wrapping and used more electric on flashing Santa's than the national grid can stand, we can settle down for the twixmas lull.
Is it a lull or a time of forced hibernation? Or are we just too fat and bloated to move until New years Eve, when we suddenly find the energy to dress up in strange costumes and consume more alcohol than we have all year.
Women, of course, are different. A little alarm clock goes off just after the 26th that calls to us in tones that even Sean Connery could not outdo - The Sales.
Yes, there are women out there who are already preparing for the following Christmas, snapping up bargain crackers and the greetings cards that didn't sell this year. These are the women who will have everything wrapped by May, and who will have peeled the sprouts by sometime in August.
I, umm, fall into this category, in a very loose and vague manner, you understand. I adore shopping and can't resist a bargain. Not interested in planning for next years festivities until nearly the last moment, I will be hunting out that gorgeous jacket that was fifty quid too dear last month and those delicious red heels that would have broken the bank. Unfortunately, as always, I will find that the jacket is the only one in the world that has not been reduced and the shoes are only available in sizes for a child of five.
So whilst I while away the hours, fighting over the bargains not-to-be-had, settle down in the chair, have a snooze, watch the repeats on TV and say a prayer that you sleep through 'til next year when the whole horrible process starts again.

Mince pie anyone?


(And yes, I had a lovely Christmas, thank you for asking. I was a very good girl all year and was rewarded accordingly!)

Oh, nearly forgot that other festival.

Felicitations for the season of glitz and glamour.
May your stockings be filled, your turkey well-stuffed, your nuts roasted to perfection and any other seasonal innuendo you can can think of.
Joy to the world, peace on earth and a large box of chocolates, please.

Please excuse me for a couple of days whilst I come to terms with the trees I have murdered, attend to making a meal worthy of a heart attack and comfort my weeping credit card.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good damn night.

Winter Solstice

Today light and dark are balanced. Night and day are in equal measure, but from now on daylight gets longer as we look towards spring.

In times past Yule, not only celebrated the winter solstice but was also a way to give thanks for getting half way through the cold months of winter. A sort of 'thank fuck for that, we survived this far'. The Yule log (not the chocolate one, although this is where it originates from) represents heat and light for the winter months - basic human needs that are all but forgotten in our modern, overindulgent society.

Many festivals at this time of year, celebrate light in the darkness, a time of hope, and wishes for the future.

I leave you with a candle for Yule.

Make a wish, as is tradition....

... if light turned to darkness,
stars faded one by one,
and if all t'was dark and quiet,
you would be my private sun.

What's in a name?

Plenty actually.
I'm talking about the names we invent for our characters. As I am going to spend a fair bit of time with them, getting the name right for both story, genre and character is vitally important especially if it is going to work as a whole.
I read a short story once where the main hero was called Rad Stangler. A horrible name, awful. The story wasn't much better but the name stuck with me, and much to my chagrin it still tickles me.

So how do we choose names? I have a variety of 'name' books, but I have to say that I very rarely use them. When choosing the name for my main protagonist in 'Coven of One' I can honestly say that the name 'Dorcas' came in the same instant as the story took shape in my mind (as much as it ever does at the beginning). Her name was synonymous with the 'era' that I was aiming for and seemed to sum up the sensibly booted witch that I wanted to portray. Other names leapt from the obits in local papers and it was easy to couple them up with already well known Cornish monikers. Cornwall is awash with surnames that begin with 'Tre', 'Pen' and 'Pol', and has a multitude of delightfully unusual first names. The only one I didn't manage to squeeze in was 'Loveday' (pronounced Luvdie), but whose to say it won't appear somewhere!

I adore the process of finding names for my writing. I carry lists of possibilities around with me, making note of any that I take a fancy to. Funny really, when choosing the names of the feckers we only managed to find two that we both liked!

I sort of hate Christmas.....

...and then I sort of don't.

The fireplace got dressed, again.

Minx the Merciless

The invasion was timed to perfection. By 9.30 am we had managed to secure the last parking space in the whole of Truro.

Today was Christmas Shopping Day - a day that involves a fight to the death and may the best shopper win!

With weapons ( a large and trusty handbag) we ventured into the thronging crowds, sussing out the opposition and putting our first plan into action - something to eat. The troops cannot go to war on an empty stomach after all, but we did not plan to be hampered weight-wise by a bacon sandwich that had been soaked in fat for at least a week.

The credit card fought valiantly to diminish the List of Christmas and we were nearly there until it came to the time of the great split.
Bereft of battle command, I was jostled, shoved and pushed from one jingle-bloody-belling shop to another, but I saved the day by unintentionally jumping a queue (how sneaky) and managed to complete my mission and have time for a drink before the troops re-assembled. We did it! We have won, shopping horror is done and thank the Goddess that this great battle only happens once a year.

Tonight I am off to my Works Christmas Bash which for some reason involves dressing up as a character from the Bond movies. Oh joy - but at least I get to dull the pain of my battle bruises with few martini's!

Update
Went to party as Sweatlana Furcoatski from Russia....with love! After an appalling meal we watched 'Casino Royale' in a private cinema. Not being a huge fan of James Bond, I thought that the film was refreshingly different from its gadget filled predecessors. Daniel Craig (Layer Cake) was rough and ready as Bondy, but I have to say that too many martinis and a comfy leather sofa led to a small and convenient nap halfway through!

Adding up

I love computers. They give me instant answers to my obscure questions and allow me to travel all around the globe at the click of a mouse. I can talk to people for free, send rude messages in chat, oh and they allow me to write!
Lately I have become very unfriendly with the computer at work. It would be fair to say that I am beginning to loathe it. In my last post, I was used to bashing out regular reports and the odd letter, happily returning home at the end of the day to discover more words on my laptop at home.
This new computer that comes with the job, is the devil incarnate. It works on the principle of numbers you see, a concept that is both alien and unatural. Gone are the days of 'hands on' work with real, live, small people, replaced with a constant need to count heads and tot up monies owing.

"Just put the little numbers in the little boxes" a helpful colleague said this morning.

"I would the put little numbers in the little boxes if I could decide which fuckers to use" I muttered as she walked off.

I've been at it for three weeks now. Is that time enough to decide that I don't like this 'hands off' job, or should I be thinking about my nice fat pay packet at the end of the month - I don't have any problem with those numbers! So maybe I should just stop mourning the exhausting hours working with children and start enjoying my new found extra hours for writing - even if it does mean wanting to drive nails through my skull when the numbers don't add up.

50 word challenge

Verilion , A Wanderer in Paris , has posted a challenge to write a story in less than 50 words - ah go on - you know you want to!

Skintwriter competition

It was a pleasure to be involved in this competition. The standard was fantastic and I nearly bit off some of me gorgeous nails trying to make a descision

As posted on the Skintmeister himself, here are the six finalists in alphabetical order.....


Angus - Kenneth Shand

Escape from suffering - Peter Caunt

Full of grace - Polyphiloprogenitive

Snow - John T Ahearn

The Execution of Jimmy Crow - DBA Lehane

Therefore I am - Theonlygolux


Once again thank you all for some clever, innovative, compelling and entertaining reads and don't forget to cast your reader vote.

Dorcas does Dulwich (and Crystal Palace, of course)

Many, many thanks to The Bookseller Crow on the Hill for giving me such a warm welcome and in such cool surroundings! And although she will probably hit me - thanks must be given to Debi, whose devotion to this event has been unstinting.
What a fantastic night. Spent more time yapping with all the lovely people who popped in, than I did taking photo's, but here are a few....





Debi Alper and 'whodunnit queen' Victoria Blake. How cool are these gals? Very.

Zoe Fairbairns, her lovely partner and the fantastic Debi. So good to talk!



Skint (that's me publisher) bending Martin Millar's ear. I had a 'bend' as well - what a great bloke. Read half of 'The Good Fairies of New York' on the train home.
Sarah May came along and added to the mix as well (The Rise and Fall of the Queen of Suburbia).

Then there was gorgeous Cailleach (above), who flew all the way from Ireland - what a cookie! Her friend Karen was a star as well!

There were representatives from local writing groups, reading groups and a a lovely guy called Marc who came along because he had seen the advert on Britblog!


Hope someone else got some more photos of all the lovely people who turned out on a bitterly cold December night. Those who didn't make it were remembered, and those who did had a drink and bought the odd book!

Oh, and me and the purple one.

Still reeling - off for some much needed sleep.

Bags are packed.....

.... and I'm off in the morning!
Have a great time at the Pundy Awards, wish I could be with you but, well, you know. The purple one calls!

The London launch of

'Coven of One'

*

The second national Blogmoot

*

Guest appearances

*

Books to buy

*

What more do you want?

*

Oh yes, where to be....

*

Bookseller Crow on the Hill

50 Westow Street

Crystal Palace

London

SE19 3AF

*

Saturday 9th December 2006

6.30 - 9.oopm

***

Sex talk

There is a more than interesting post over on Shameless Words on the merits of a well written sex scene.

When the plot calls should we go all out and write a sweat laden, no holds barred, full frontal or is it better to allude to intimacy, drawing a veil of the sordid details?

According the the 'The Bad Sex Awards in Fiction' over at the Guardian Umlimited there are a number of writers who get it wrong (not for the faint hearted btw), but what makes good sex in fiction?
Interestingly there were more women than men commenting on Shameless's post, does this have relevance? I would express a preference that if it is going to be done, then it should be done as realistically as possible and should be in line with the plot. The trouble is I think that it is one area where writers can fall down badly. Those poor writers up for an award must be cringing in their un-sexy boots! The point is, do you have to be good at it, to write about it?

I call for a vote

In a last ditch effort to win the attentions of our Great Blog Leader, and push myself finally into the ranks of an F-list blogger, I call for you to vote on.....

Pundy of the Pundyhouse - a man of our times.....

Pun DeGaulle
Winston Pundy
Pundychov

Oh and nearly forgot - the man himself - Papa Pundy!

pee ess - don't forget to have a look at our great leader below in some more of the other leaderships he has selflessly undertaken over the years.

pee pee ess - in case this doesn't quite go in my favour I want you know that a certain American poet is responsible for these glorious (scandalous?) pictures of GL Pundy. Thank you.

Our Great Leader

It has come to my attention that our great and revered leader has been hiding himself under a bushel! Not only has he bravely taken on leadership of the Blogosphere but has, amazingly, been part of our national heritage for many years.

Let us not forget the triumphs of King Pundygeorge V.

Or Pundoleon di Pundyparte, that small, French rascal, and his first taste as Emperor.

And of course, the abdication of Queen Pundy has paved the way for our glorious new empire right here in the Blogosphere. Who would have thought?


(I know - blown all me chances haven't I?)

My leige

In a thinly disguised bid to curry favour, and so win a prize of great merit, I have taken it upon myself to issue the first picture of your new lord and master.

Behold - The Emperor Pundias I

Winter is here, come sit awhile.....

When you are old and grey and full of sleep
And nodding by the fire, take down this book
And slowly read and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep

- WB Yeats , 1893 (a few years younger than me fireplace)