Just came back from watching my daughter at ballet.
I am definitely not a lover of dance in any form. I, myself, possess about as much poise and grace as a lobotomised dodo and have as much idea about the secrets of the physical performing arts as I have of astro physics.
So I find it unbelievable when I watch my daughter, whose DNA stems from my gene pool, prancing and pirouetting like leaping gazelle to the collective gasps of appreciation of the other parents. She stands head and shoulders above the rest of the class and it never fails to move me when I see her petite form move with such a natural elegance and elan.
She makes my day, she really does.
Monday didn't turn out too bad after all.

Reg :-)

Monday.
What a weekend. Action, action, action. We laughed, we cried, we witnessed life in all it's rainbow glory and then Monday comes along and wrecks it all.
Why did God make Monday? It's such a downer day.

The weekend went thus, I worked nights on Friday, (overtime). Saturday was a day to kick back, open a beer and watch all three rugby games on tv. Wales won resoundingly and the 'Whiskey for every try" rule changed gear seriously in the second half as the Welsh ran Italy into the ground.
After the rugby we watched Match of the Day and then we ended the night with a "The Best 20 Rugby Games Of All Time" dvd which just about killed the whiskey bottle.
Yesterday, a nice stroll in the fresh air to clear my head, a hearty nosh up, fifteen minutes with the scooter, (it started by the way, only to die again) and then a relaxed evening in front of the goggle box with the woman.

Then Monday came along.
Bah.
Roll on Tuesday.
Reg :-/

This albatross is starting to smell foul.
Tuesday morning I received a most welcome telephone call from the scooter garage.
The relay had arrived. Taaaa-Raaaah !
I couldn't believe my luck and really I should have known better than to have been so optimistic as to think that was the end of it.

I paid for the aforementioned item and drove home with visions of me, dressed in my biker leathers and a screaming skull helmet, menacing the neighbours at 25 MPH.
With a practised hand I whipped off the plastic casing and proceeded to fit the relay into its connection.
It didn't take long (aprox .3 of a second) for me to realise that I was cutting bread with a candle on this one and that the spacing on the points of the relay were simply too far apart for it to sit right.
It was the wrong relay.
In fact, after taking a picture of the scooter with my mobile and then showing it to the people at the workshop with its documents, we found out that they'd ordered the right part for the wrong scooter... ahem. How on earth they managed to order for the wrong scooter I will never know as I gave them the documents the first time they ordered.

So, dear reader, now you've witnessed a classic example of the famous Rule of Jones, (If it can go wrong, it already has), and you'll now know what I'm up against in life.
Bah.

Reg :-(

Monday, and I've the whole day off.
So today I'm going to go through the manuscript like a dose of industrial strengh syrup of figs, and to hell with the toilet paper bill...

This scooter is starting to resemble a dead Albatross.
I charged the battery, put it back in and tried the ignition. Nothing happened so I had a look to see if there was anything obvious.
My mate, (Thorsten) popped round and also had a look.
We found a relay that was warm/hottish to the touch and made a strange humming noise. We decided that it was definitely a problem and would have to be replaced before we could carry on with the diagnosis... and that's when the fun and games started.

The next day I drove to a scooter workshop.
Me : "Have you this sort of relay in stock?"
Scooter expert : "No, I'll have to order one from the manufacturers."
Me : "Ok, how much will it cost and how long before it comes?"
Smug Scooter B@$+@#& : "About 35 €, plus postage. It'll be here in about 6 to 8 weeks."
Me : "Oh."

So now I have to wait 6-8 weeks for the relay (the 35 € relay, plus postage and packing) to come before I can carry on looking for the fault.
Bah.

Ah well, if it's only the relay then I'll have a 2 year old scooter for 35 Euro, (plus P&P).
On the other hand this could just be the prelude to a long drawn out test of patience and nerves.
I hope it's not the later of the two.

Reg :-(

The bloke who proof read my manuscript is bloody good.
I finally got some time to myself to go through what he'd written and, my word, has he got an eye for the literary landscape.
An added phrase here, a metaphor there and the whole ghastly caterpillar paragraph morphs wonderously into a butterfly of English prose.

Well, ok, he's not that good but it is an eye opener when you see how one word can change the whole rhythm of a line. Damn I wish I hadn't left school at sixteen... (that old chestnut again, eh?)


As for my progress on the manuscript itself? Shamefully I'm only at page 250...
I know, I know.
I hate myself.

But I promise to improve.

Thank you George.
Reg :-)

I wrote earlier about the lady with an agent who is furiously toiling day and night to find a deal for her trilogy.
Well, I've had an idea. Actually, Richard from Struggling Authors had the idea, but it's my Blog so I'll claim it as mine and to hell with the copyright!

I'm going to ask teresa, (her name) if she could give me some pointers on my synopsis.
The thing with a synopsis is that there are no definitve guidelines to say how it should be written and presented. Some Agents want a brief, one page jobby, some require a chapter by chapter account of all the action and others just need a three page summary that glosses over the main points.
So basically it's all down to what information one has about what the agent/publishing house you're going to send your tome to requires.

What do you think? Stay with the synopsis tactic I'm using now, (i.e. spicing it up a bit) or waiting to see if the Lady with the agent can come up with some interesting, world beating pointers?
I'll ask her and see what she say's, it can't harm, can it?
If you're interested her Blog is at:

http://tgeering.blogspot.com/

Why isn't anything easy? The literary path is such a jungle and the people you think are the Tarzans nearly always end up being the Witchdoctor headhunters... whatever that's supposed to mean.

Tara, enjoy Teresa's blog.
Reg. :-)

I've aquired a scooter.
It has 1250 kms on the clock, and it is off the road at the moment, but it was given to me for nothing and I am most definitely not one to look a gift horse in the face.
It was very dirty and the petrol tank had water in it but, like I said, it was given to me and now it's all cleaned up it looks really good, (for a scooter).

Anyway, I just thought I'd drop that into the conversation to see what you thought.

Recently I read of a lady who has an agent but can't find a publisher. The lady in question has written three books about the same person, (making it a trilogy) and her agent is now furiously writing to one publishing house after another to try to find a deal.
I am so jealous.
I wish I had an agent who did all that for me. Ah well, Nil Desperandum as they say in Angola.

I think I'll go have another look at my new baby to cheer me up. It's amazing what a gift-scooter can do for the morale...

Reg :-)

It's strange, but I'm never satisfied with what I write.
Is this a flaw in my character?
I'm not sure to be honest, though I'd like to think not. I mean I'm as insecure as the next man but I'm not that unsure of myself that I won't shower in the Gym, so I can't be that bad, can I?

Last night I read what I'd written for Gulag, part 2 of my planned trilogy, (hope springs eternal...).
The thing is, I couldn't stop 'improving' it and now I've decided to change it all. I erased the entire text and will start anew when the time comes to do so. Now, of course, I'm thinking to myself that it was a bit rash to completely erase everything, however it's done now and it's not worth crying over deleted text...

Damn, I wish I hadn't done thast now.

Whatever, let's concentrate on getting the first book published, eh?
Reg :-/