Dreaming Aloud

Back again.

I have decided to keep this blog going and relate to you all the on going work of a wannabe writer.

Having now decided to re-write my first novel (have written 3 more since) I have managed to create some brilliant characters, I think, I hope anyway.

As a brilliant agent once told me, characterisation, characterisation, characterisation. You need deep characterisation to sell a book in this over loaded market. So, I have included, lots of touchy feely emotions, not too many, just enough, I hope.

My heroes, who are Fae/vampires, have now got a face, a face of the actors I would love to play them. Thinking like this is not normal for me, I tend to keep most of my desires under wraps for fear of lambasting and ridicule. But after feeling low and crap for ages, I have decided to go for it.

Why not, what have I got to lose. I will think big and think positive and therefore, hopefully will attract positive energy, or so I read somewhere. Sounds good, doesn't it?

I have to tell you that I love this story I am writing, the characters, the plot and the sex are to die for, I say so myself, because I created them and therefore I have a right to love them. If I don't who will?

I love the way I can make them do anything I want. Bit of a control freak, you may ask. Well, perhaps, but to have them jump through the hoops I want them too, is brilliant.

I want to tell you a secret. I have done something I would never have done before I became so positive and that is that I have polished 6 chaps and sent them out to an agent. I have nothing to lose, all they can say is NO, or SEND MORE, then of course, I will have to write with turbo fingers, but I don't think that will happen, so I'm not worried, much.

If I get enough hits, i will post some of the story on here.

finger crossed.

Just more jibber-jabber.

I have been writing in the early hours of the morning, say about 5.30, like Annie, it feels wonderful and I'm so fresh that I can rattle on and produce some good stuff, especially after I have had a strong coffee. I get up at this time more due to the fact that my cats now come and wake me up for food by one of them, sitting on my head, and the other one, bashing me on my arm with his paw.

The paranormal book is steaming ahead and I'm very pleased with it, I have to say that in the 5 years I've been writing, my writing has changed thank god! Hee hee, when you look back you have to laugh - or shoot yourself. I laughed. When I sent that book out, an agent in America loved it but and there is the dreaded but, told me that I needed to develop the plot a lot more, but that the story was great and I shouldn't find any problems finding an agent or publisher - so why didn't she wait for me to do this???? Agents, god they can be strange people.

Anyhow, I have developed the plot, now that I read it I can see it was a tiny bit complicated, so I have shaved tons off it and neatened it up, I hope it will work. The problem I have come across now, is that my heroine has 2 guys after her and she wants them both!!! I'm wondering if this might make her a little slutty? What do you lot think? I think the only way round this, might be to add a bit of rom/com to it, which it wasn't before, that way she works.

For all you writers out there, especially women, don't you find it funny that we can fabricate such wonderful heroes in our books, who in real life do not exist, it makes me wonder how unsatisfied women are with the John Doe's of this world.

On another note, my mother in law is staying for 4 days. And ............. but............... well ................ and you can guess the rest! She's okay really, but she favours one of the children more and shows it, and this gets on my f...ing nerves, but I don't say anything, well I do sometimes and it's often laced with tangy lemon juice to really sting.

I haven't been able to write while she is here, cos she doesn't know about it, she would have caustic comments to make when not getting published, and when I get up early so does she. So my brain is buzzing and overheating with stuff that needs to come out. I think I will have to disappear today, upstairs in to the bedroom and write and pretend I have a monster headache and can't be disturbed.

I spoke to an old friend the other day, actually she rang me for my birthday, which most of you missed, she lives in southern Ireland. She has been there for 20yrs and asks every year for us to go over. And every year we say we will and we don't. BUT this year, I think I might go over on my own and have a jolly long weekend. Problem is she used to and maybe still does drink like a fish, and I can't anymore, I can't cope with the headaches in the morning, so I might take an intravenous drip with me to keep me hydrated. I can always shove it up my jumper - I will have to wear a big baggy jumper won't I!!!

A Few Days in the Life of Mercedes!!!!

Again it's been a few weeks since I last posted anything here, but I'm back.
I am stuffed with chocolate and it was my birthday last week, my kids got me breakfast in bed and lots of chocs and presents. Charlotte my 11 year old made me toast and tea, she was a little heavy on the marmite, but I had to eat it and was thirsty as hell for hours later.

The other day I went to the tip with my kids (lovely day out - ha ha ha!) and was verbally abused by some numpty old man. Just because where I had parked caused problems for me to get out in my HUGE 4x4 (as he called it) and I asked him to reverse. He told me to f.... off and if I couldn't drive a f....ing car THAT big then I shouldn't. After that, and I'm not one to hold my tongue, but on this occasion I did, shocked by the age of the man and the language. I mean, it was worse than mine! And brother can I have some down in the gutter lingo when I want to. Eventually the tip men came and moved some bollards for me to get out. What is the world coming to! I tell my kids it's rude and uncouth to swear (even though I do) and then they see this jumped up nitwit old fella verbally abusing their mother. Oh well, I went home and had a stiffy. A vodka guys, not a stiffy!!!!

My husband shocked the other day. He said, 'I'm going to clean the bathroom.' I stopped what I was doing in horror, took his temperature and couldn't believe it. Then I thought, oh he means a quick once over with the duster. But no, he cleaned it so well it was sparkling, he even cleaned the tiles and the paintwork etc. Better than I do (I hate cleaning, I do it because I have to, but I hate it) To this day I have no idea what got in to him. He's not unwell and my cleaning is fine, passable, really. I'm wondering whether he's had a bump to the head, or perhaps - well I can't imagine. Anyway, we'll see if it lasts and if it repeats itself.

Things are still tight here financially and it's a bugger. We just got our electric and gas bill through and f... me, it was 300 quid a month for the both. Wow! Can you believe that? I mean what the hell is going on in this country with prices, how is anyone supposed to live? With ten tons of jumpers on everyday just to keep warm. I know that my precious Aga is a spendaholic, but, well I say again, WOW! Don't say it, she's my baby and I wont give her up. Yes I will wear the tons of jumpers, but Doris (Aga as I've named her) stays.

Well what else, oh yes, it seems that Henry -the dog- has yet damaged me, he is so strong he's like a sodding rhinoceros when it comes to moving him sometimes. Now he's taken to sitting in the road when we go for walks. He's not keen on lead walks and lets me know by flopping down and lying down, therefore trying to move the little sod is like trying to move a rhinoceros. He will not budge and with my back in such a state it's not helping me. The other day he was in the lounge and decided to take my book, why? because he was bored and felt like it of course, I grabbed his collar and caught my finger underneath, he pulled and so did I (in different directions) and he yanked so hard he's torn the tendon in my finger. I am 44 and feel as if I'm 144, bad finger, bad back, back hips, this is all great and brother am I looking forward to getting older. NOT!

On the book front, well I am nearly half way through re-jigging my contemporary novel taking on board the agents advice, but have for the moment skipped back to my paranormal work and re-jigging that, because I read the other day that it's the NEW genre on the up and up, so I though I would do 6 chaps of re-jigging and post it off and see. Fingers crossed for me, please.

Bye for now, have to get back to writing some more.

Back Again.

Well it's been a long time since I wrote on here and not a lot has happened, well unless you can call having my ms rejected. But there is light at the end of the tunnel, one agent gave me advice, so now I am back to the drawing board and well on my way with re-writes.

The sun is out and my spirits are lighter, my mojo is back and drinking is my cuddly toy once again. Husband has been out doing some gardening and landscaping and I have been giving advice from the window. I hate gardening and have a bad back, which has got worse recently after stacking a load of logs. Stiff and creaking is what I am at the moment, this getting older is no fun at all.

My kids are at an age when they feel it is their right to tell me how I look and how I should look. I keep quiet and boil quietly inside. I think I have a pretty good idea of what suits me by now. Of course, these teenagers know it all. As I said to my 14 nearly 15 year old son, 'Do you want me to wear my trousers half way down by arse?' I did so and he was horrified. Baffled, I asked if this was not being trendy enough. His look of horror and disgust bounced from his eyes. I have to laugh, now, when they comment, I copy their dress code and this soon shuts them up.

I had my mother over last week, bless her, she means well, but she does drive me crazy. She came over to tell me that I should do this and should do that. If there is one word in the English language that gets my goat, it is 'should.' This raises my hackles and I growl inwardly. Every time she comes round, she has to do this. Why can she not just have a bit of fun and accept that we're all different? Aah, I forgot, if we're not like her, we're mental.

Talking of mental, my car was in the dock last week and I had a little VW Polo to whizz around in. My normal car is a guzzler 4X4, I know, I know and i will change it soon. I was so impressed with this nippy little form of transport that I kept popping out for things. Oops forgot the milk. Oops forgot the bread. Oops forgot the children. My kids thought it was cool, but trendy teenager said it didn't suit me. 'Why not?' I questioned, disappointed, cos I thought it did. 'Well it's just not you, Mum, that's why?' Aah, I see ,that explains it then. I have no idea what that meant and he couldn't elaborate any more on it, suffice to say, that he has a certain image of his mother that is different to his mother's.

Until the next time.

After Christmas

Well, it's after Christmas and back to normal. I am stuffed and sick of the sight of Christmas pud. We had a quiet one this year, just parents and us 4. Mind you we nearly lost the Christmas dinner thanks to Henry (the retriever), who did a flying leap towards the lamb, lucky for us I am as nimble as a ninja and was able to leap faster, grabbing it out of harms way. Poor mite was salivating at the thought of what he'd nearly caught. For good attempt he got his Christmas dinner too.

The rest of the holidays went by in late mornings and chilling watching the telly or reading, eating, walking the dog and then more chilling and watching the telly and or reading.

Since kids have gone back to school I have knuckled down to clean the house, which has been neglected with all the chilling and watching telly. Now I need a rest, phew that was hard.

The most disturbing thing happening at the moment is ...I fear I am going off booze. Yes you read it right, going off booze. I have no idea why, and no for those of you about to say it, I am not frigging preggas. I keep trying to drink but manage about two mouthfuls then think yuck. Is this a medical emergency? I have thought of racing down to the local ED (casualty) but then I think it might pass. It hasn't yet, hell, the thought of no booze, is a bad thought. I mean, who is going to drink all my vodka stashed in my cupboard? No, I am not going to give it away. That is unthinkable, besides, this illness may pass and when it does, what will I drink?

Well that's your lot for this entry, need to go do a test and see if still hostile towards the drink.

Just a note.

Had some friends round today, with 2 kids, ages 8 and 10. Both terrified of Henry (the golden retriever). Poor little things, their hearts were banging like mad, he must look so huge to them. Had to lock him up and he sulked for hours later.

Hubby and I have had a burst of energy (don't know where it's come from) we have decided to paint the lounge ready for Xmas. It needs it, I have been banging on about it for over 12 months. With having a coal fire, the room gets very mucky very quickly. We are going for a very deep red, a fire earth colour called Dragon's blood, kids think it's horrible. So I guess it must be very nice in that case.

Hooray!

I have finished my novel. Hooray! Feels wonderful and scary. Now I am editing it and adding the in fills, which tie it together and hopefully will be done in a couple of weeks. Thanks to those of you who are proof reading for me. It's very much appreciated. The scary part is now to come when I send it out and wait, and wait, and wait, and then get a rejection slip. God I am so dreading that. However, I am not being negative (only a bit) trying to keep positive (not doing very well) upwards and onwards to the next stage as I keep telling myself.

Had the mother in law to stay over the weekend, which was nice, she's a lovely lady and I enjoy having her here. Nevertheless, I went round the house like a demented cleaning lady in the hopes she didn't find cobwebs or anything she shouldn't. The Hoover was smoking by the end of the whizz around the house. This week I can relax and let it all go to pot again.

My hubby (now the novel is finished) is on at me to send it out. I keep telling him I can't yet, it has to be 100% ready - I think this might be me procrastinating - but I should literally die if I did send out submissions and by fluke was asked for whole thing and I wasn't in a position to follow through. I think he thinks it's going to be "loads of money" I keep telling him not to hold that dream, there is only 1 JK Rowling, and then tell him about dear Annie and how slow the whole process is - he pulls a face like he's bitten into a lemon when I explain the reality - at least this keeps him off my back.

On a lighter note, xmas is nearly here - bar humbug- I hate xmas, I hate the run up, the spending, the hassle (I think I've already said this in another post). This year my cousin will be in Australia and so it will be us 4, mother in law and my grumpy parents, all in all a jolly old time - NOT! I want to go away. Nobody else does. I said I'd be happy going on my own! They won't let me. Miserable beggars. So, I suppose I'll be cooking - again.

Have been bogged down with helping my daughter with homework these last 2 weeks, and feel that my brain is frazzled beyond repair. I hated it when I was at school and I hate it now. She gets so much it's ridiculous. My son never got anything like what she does. My heart dips each night she comes home and tells me what she's got in store for that night.

My darling Henry (the dog) has taken (for some mad reason known only to dogs) to humping my cream coloured (expensive) curtains in the morning room. Only though, when he comes back after a walk all muddy and is washed down, still damp with traces of dirt in his coat. He does it when I'm not looking, the cheeky swine. It takes me over half an hour, a bucket of warm water with detergent and a cloth to wipe the dirt off again.

As soon as I am ready to post off subs I will let you know so you can all give me shoulder to cry on.

Back Again.

Well, it's been several months since I last blogged. I know, I am rubbish at this, but truly when I sit down to do it, i find, gosh I have nothing interesting to say.

Well in the time I've been away I have been to France for a Holiday and southern England. Had wonderful time in both places. Very hot in France and very relaxing in England.

I am so determind to finish my novel "Going off the rails" by the beginning of October. I have 20k to go and will be done by infills as I call them. The story is done, now I just have to add bits that are missing to keep continuity. I love it and think it's a great story, I'm hoping an agent and publisher will too. I have my faithful readers doing their bit and have just had a wonderful offer from a male friend, kev, to read it for me so I can get a male prospective on it. (Not a boy book though, very girlie, hope he enjoys it.) Thanks to Fia and Annie who have both said they'd help out with the proof reading. Thanks girls, much appreciated.

After this will be sending it off to Lynne Patrick for some professional feed back, (fingers crossed) and from then on we'll wait and see.

For those of you interested, Henry, is huge, gorgeous and brilliant. Having said that, the little blighter has just leaped up onto the Aga and pinched my lunch. So now he's in solitary with a grumpy face cos I shouted at him and pulled said lunch out of his mouth. It's a stubborn thing with me, I won't let him eat it if he's nicked it, even if he bites my hand. He never has, just looks at me solemnly to make me feel bad. I do what i do with hubby, I don't look at the face when I know they're trying to get round me. Best bit of advice I ever got.

Charlotte my youngest started high school this September and made me feel old and sad that she's so grown up. Girls are so much harder than boys. Blimey they are so complicated.

Hubby keeps banging on as to when is book going to be finished. I will be banging him on the head with the frying pan soon. Don't they all, these none writers, think it's sooo easy to write a book and why does it take you so long. F...... O.. . is what I want to say.

We're talking about decorating the lounge for xmas, have been since last year, still I can't face it. i want to get somebody in, hubby is digging his heels in. So I'm now saying " book won't get written if I have to decorate!"

I'm being taken out for the day on the 12th October by my cousin, for a suprise, apparantly i need to be free from 8am to 6pm, and she won't tell me why or what for. I hate suprises. There was a time when I hated leaving the kids, now I hate leaving Henry. Oh yeah, the husband comes into the thoughts some of the time too!!!

Henry learnt to swim at the weekend. We took him to a beautiful lake in Goostry and finally he swam. It was a wonderful time for us.

Unfortunatly, I don't think Henry is into literature, he nicked my novel (the one I'm reading not writing) the other week and took it to his favourite place in the garden, when I went to find him I also found my novel in a million pieces. I don't think he likes chick lit.

I'd best stop rabbiting on and get to doing some real writing.
Hopefully this won't be the last entry for months. I will try and keep at it.

Cook Till You Drop!

I have been baking all day today, with my ten year old daughter who absolutely adores Doris the Aga. We have made chocolate eclairs and a carrot cake. Since we got the Aga we bake and bake and bake. I will be the worlds biggest women if we carry on like this.

I love my Aga and can't believe it took me so long to get one. Just to add that I've just popped into the simmering oven to cook at a gentle heat, some leak and potato soup for tomorrow lunch time. Domestic Goddess I am!!! Nigella move over.

Oh God not again!

I woke up the other day to the wonderful aroma of dog poo, again. Yes, darling Henry has done it again. Was I pissed off at 6am? Just a tad. So, after hosing and cleaning I was knackered and ready to jump back into bed, but was too scared to leave him again in case he pooped once again.

Normally, I like to wake up to the smell of fresh coffee, obviously Henry appears to have a different idea at the moment. I love him dearly, but you can have too much of a good thing. However, while sat in the vets, at £60 a time, this is what it costs for the jabs and special food to clam his bottom, I realise it was probably my fault. I gave him a tiny bit of chees and I know that some dogs are Lactose intolerant, it would appear that, yes, Henry might well be. I hope so, and nothing more scary.

Vodka, Vodka where are you?

You will all know that I am partial to a little or rather a large VAT. (for those of you not in the know that is a vodka and tonic.) Well on many occasions I have gone to pour out my favourite tipple and stood with amazement looking at the nearly if not empty bottle. And my question has been, 'Who has been drinking my VODKA!' Now, as there isn't another voddy drinker in the house, it can only be one other person ... Henry. See from the picture above the tale tale signs of a drunken dog.

What would men do without women ... everything!

The title says it all!!
On Thursday, I decide to go out with the kids (husband at work) to do a bit of shopping and lunching. Then on my way home, I stop off at a chemist to pick up a prescription when I get a manic phone call. Grabbing my phone out of my bag in a hurry, (the shop is small and very very quiet, so my phone sounds like a really bad case of tinnitus) I hear my husband in a state of panic. Apparently he's come home early to find that Henry has eaten the cat flap and has his head stuck in the hole. Not only this, but he's got the runs (dog not husband) and it stinks. conversation goes like this.
"Oh God Mercedes, the dog's eaten the cat flap!" I don't know what he thinks I can do. "Bloody Hell, there's a horrid smell in here too, Oh God! he's pooed everywhere, it stinks, Oh God! He's rolled in it."
I say, "Get him outside and leave him, can you clean it up?" Silence, this is where he has selective hearing.
So, I get home and the poor dog has a mucky backside and is so happy to see me that he tries to jump up, so now I am covered in it. But this doesn't faze me, what does is that the man of the house is hidden away in the lounge, with all the windows open and has not gone near the poo. so I have to clean it up and wash Henry down with the help of the kids, then rush him to the vets. Luckily, we put the cat flap together and don't think he's swallowed anything. I suspect he had the runs and in a panic not to soil the utility where he's locked up when we go out he tried to get out of the cat flap. Bless him.

I thought men were supposed to be all strong and manly. John Wayne types. Ha! more like Kenneth Williams if you ask me.

What would men do without women ... everything!

Don't you think my Henry looks like Dumbo!

What A Pisser.

Je-ZUS H Christ! I am so sick of this rain but more than that, I am sick of these bloody weather people getting it wrong for my part of the world.

For the last 2 days I have gone out in the pouring rain to walk the dog. Hat on. Wellies on. Waterproof on. (not very waterproofy, got soaked.) And five minutes after I arrive home the rain stops. Yes it stops for at least 5 hours if not most of the day. I could have waited until then to go out for walkies, but the clever weather people said it would rain all day with no breaks. Grrrrrr. And to top it all my sodding hair looks like a nightmare! I HATE THE RAIN!

Funnily enough, Henry appears to have the same problems with his hair. He goes all curly and around the ears he looks as if he's been crimped. I think he's coming out in sympathy. bless him. Despite being a Golden he looks like a blacken after the muddy walks.

Upwards and Onwards.

You know sometimes I wonder, 'why do I fucking bother!' Without going into grimy details, of which will bore the hell out of you all, I wonder why we put ourselves up for a slapping time and time again.

Jealousy is a nasty affliction.

When you're trying to do something that's important to you, something that you really care about and it's different from the masses, you'd expect support from your nearest. wouldn't you? Ha and double fucking Ha! once upon a time iIdid too. Not so now. Why I hear you ask? Well, it kind of goes like this.

I write, granted I'm not published, but some day I hope to be. It's not as easy as every tosser out there thinks. But I don't want to give up. I love it. I want to succeed. I want it very badly. BUT, and here is the crux. Those around me think I should give up because it's not happened, and won't, because it hasn't, so why carry on. To me, those are the thoughts of a coward. One who is afraid of persevering when all around drop out. It's a hard business and one where you need support. Not put downs. I can do 'put downs' very well by myself, I don't others to as well.

I'm not very happy as you can tell by me scribbling. In fact I'm very sad.

Recently I was told by a friend whom I haven't seen for a long time, and who has just read my blog that she thinks I'm funny (each to their own) and that she finds me very entertaining (again, that's here say) but nevertheless, it made me smile and warmed my soul. For a nanosecond. Because in my flush of praise I show this to a certain person and they mock. Yes they do. They mock and be-little it. How can that be? What does she mean, entertaining? Are you a magician or something? I had no verbal daggers to throw, because quite frankly, the mocking and disparaging way it was said went very deep.

And this is why I say 'I don't know why I fucking bother.' Sometimes you have to bask in the praise others give you on your own, if you don't want to get shot down in flames by those whom you think are by your side.

This is a lesson I keep on learning. But obviously have some mental retentive disorder, because I stupidly keep DOING IT! Again and again and again.

One day though, I hope to God that I will be the one laughing with derision while I sidle off to my launch party. One day maybe......

I sound Like a Fish Wife!

I have had a scary day today. Henry decided to escape. We have one part of the garden that is not fenced in. It's only a little part and he knows not to go there, and on the most part he is pretty brilliant. But today whilst I was collecting his poop, he decides to go through the little gap. Of course, as soon as I realise I scream like a fish wife STOP and miraculously he does. I then scream in a very panicky voice, (because at the end of this road is a fairly busy road) STAY. Then I run round to the front of the house in my dressing gown (it's early morning) with my coat over the top, my hair a jumbly mess and no makeup and call him to come. And he does! Amazing! I was so proud he got spoilt all day long with loads of little treats. I think perhaps he realised I was makeupless and would cause a real commotion if anyone saw so he came back. What a gent.

Nothing else to report, except took the tree down today because fed up with it, and I'm such a Scrooge I couldn't bear it up another day. All those sodding needles everywhere! I have to say I was not impressed with hubby who sat on the sofa reading the papers whilst I struggled to pull the prickly bastard out of its pot then drag its dead carcass out of the door while it left all its sharp pointy bits on my carpet. (This is the tree not the hubby - though i would have liked to do that to him too.)

Thank God It's over!

Well it's been and gone. And all I can say is, 'What happened?' There it was, Christmas coming along like an uncontrolled train and suddenly, it was over! I was so knackered from shopping, Xmas decorating, more shopping, keeping jolly, more shopping, struggling with the crowds, more shopping and on it goes. That by the time Christmas Day came, I was off with the fairies or maybe it could have been the satanic demons. Call me grump because I was Mrs Grump. I was so fed up with wrapping and cooking and smiling that I didn't have time to drink my beloved Vodka! Well, I mean, lets be realistic, Xmas without a jolly large VAT is not bloody Christmas.

Well we all enjoyed ourselves - including me - after the VAT. I can safely say that I am no longer Mrs Grump, but Mrs Knackered and Mrs Can't Wait For The Kids To Be Back At School cos they are driving me MAD! In a nice way of course.

Henry of course, behaved like a gentleman. Oh My God, I was so worried that he would embarrass me in front of my guests by being a puppy (like he is) but he was just the best. On his best behaviour. Must have read my mind. I was so proud. What a babe.

Polly and Fred (my cats) must have know Santa was on his way too, because madam was chatting to me all bloody night. meow, meow, meow ....... They sleep in my bedroom since Henry arrived, and eat in there too, Polly is too scared to eat anywhere near Henry, so being the softy that I am, she's now fed upstairs.

Freezing My Tits Off!

God it's so bloody cold that I'm freezing my tits off taking Henry (my dog) out to the loo. Why oh why can't any place do? Why do we have to wonder around the garden so many times only to come back to the first place to do our business!!!

Took Henry out for a walk today. Just to fill you all in, Henry is the laziest dog on the planet. When I got a retriever I was told they need loads of exercise, well this little man doesn't want any. A walk up the street is painful, for me, because after about 100yards he wants to go home. And he's a heavy bugger, so dragging is out of the question.

However, today I took him to the woods and he loved it. Had him on one of those retractable leads and he was over the moon. It was such a joy, then the little bastard decided to pitch his strength against mine and gave a mammoth tug as he sped away and I lost him. He ran round and round this muddy patch with the entrance just 20yards from us, open onto a busy road, I too was running round and round the muddy patch. (Not as gracefully as he, the green wellies and muddy coat not as glam as a gorgeous cream furry duvet.) Before I fell on my face I stopped panicking and launched myself onto him.

I missed by a mile.

But I managed to grab his lead and pull him in.

Then I went home, humiliated.

Bloody dogs, what's wrong with cats I ask myself, they never make me throw myself onto the ground like a mad woman.

Synopsis

Synopsis as promised.

Presentation:
For an MS of around 80-100,000 words, an author would be expected to restrict their proposal, or outline, to around two to 2.5 pages of single spaced typing.

1. Introduce the setting and the title. One sentence should cover where and when the story takes place (it doesn't necessarily have to be your first sentence, which needs to be as exciting and intriguing as you can make it, in order to draw the reader in).
2. Introduce your main characters by name, age, career, character etc. You should also, briefly, introduce and essential minor characters. A couple of paragraphs on each of these elements is sufficient.
3. Add a further paragraph detailing family, background etc., if these have bearing on the plot as a whole.
4. Try to establish the basics of the plot as economically, buy as clearly, as possible.
5. What is special about your novel? You should try to demonstrate to the editor what makes your story more appealing than all the hundreds of others she may have received that week.
6. Conflict: What and why is the problem which is keeping your hero and heroine apart?
7. Include short outlines of some important scenes. By important, I mean those scenes which change the direction of the plot and mark a step forward in the hero's and heroine's relationship.
8. The ebb and flow of the action: The coming together of the hero and heroine, then moving apart throughout the plot. The whys and wherefores.
9. The catalyst: As you near the end of the manuscript what is that makes your hero and heroine decide that they belong together?
10. The climax: Allow your reader a good. Romantic 'wallow' in the happiness of these two people they have come to care about.
11. The tie up: Make sure that all the loose ends are tidied away and that the reader is satisfied and can't wait to read your next novel.

Okay guys, I hope this information is helpful.

In The Wee Small Hours.

This is Polly. She looks cute and she is. However, she's a devil when it comes to catching mice. Since getting Henry, we lock the cats in at night. She of course, comes in when she likes and usually brings with her a mouse of some description. Since they can't be locked in downstairs anymore they are allowed upstairs. In our bedroom. And the mice come with her. Last night I was up at 3am chasing a sodding field mouse around the bedroom, under the bed and behind the curtains. Bloody cat just sits there and watches. What sort of cat is that, I ask you. Then I tip toe downstairs so as not to wake the dog to chuck the bugger out. I have got so fed up of this that I now chuck it out of the window. I know that sounds cruel, but believe me, when you're woken up in the middle of the night to the sounds of little scurrying feet, and cat in attack mode noises, it's the best I can do.

We've had pigeons in the kitchen pre-dog, lets hope we don't have one of those in the bedroom.