Sunday, June 25, 2006

Conf 207: Murder by Musical

No. of words: 47,008

Off the map all week with work work. An utter marathon, worst was 6.30am - 8pm nonstop on Friday. Then a quick shower and off to party for all the helpers of the charity cricket match we photographed. Immediately started guzzling wine, & got quite drunk. The vicar sat next to me at dinner & we had long chats about photography, levitation and Tibet. He's quite an old hippy at heart & I enjoyed his company. I think I might have gone too far though, the way it's so easy to do with vicars when you're drunk out of your brains, quoting the Father Ted episode where the bishop is converted to a hippie and falling about laughing. I haven't actually seen it either. We learned that one of those glossy estate agent type free mags is doing a feature and using 6 or 7 of our pics. Wonder if any of them will be mine?

Anyway the work very unhealthy, fingers worn to shreds, tempers frayed and periodic bouts of feeling very sorry for self. Only break was collecting daughter from author friend who is in the midst of serial author-moments of launches and lunches, signings and interviews and all the razamatazz. Amazed to see on her hall wall a print of painting by my new artist friend I met at that party last week. One of her favourite painters! So a pleasing interlude with a little bit of synchronicity reminding me that it CAN happen and DOES happen and it can all be worth it in the end. And off I stomped back to my countdown of the 100 top musicals, FINE when lovely Busby Berkley, Judy Garland etc, but having to sit through CATs and the opinions of Toyah Willcox and Tara Palmer T. enough to want to chuck it all in and live in a tent. THEN on Saturday morning couldn't believe it was actually all over and I could lounge in bed and read my book and have cups of tea and biccies and long lazy day until out in evening to dinner with good old friends: thump thump on the door, postman with MORE tapes, four of them, and, just to top them off, my credit card bill with the nasty dentist fee added. UGH! and Ugh and Ugh. I could have thrown hissy and not done them, but actually they were more comedy character analyses, and 2 by Dave Gorman . He is very, very wonderful. Hugely intelligent and funny and... phwor, yes, I confess. So there you go yet more work keeping me down, but discovering the Gorman and learning about comedy characters. However all done now and they're paying me fifty quid extra for being such a good little worker.

Now this coming week is clear apart from finishing the novel. I still would really love to get this draft done by the middle of July. 30,000 words to go. 10,000 words a week it's not really on, is it. Except I could do it. My best ever was 5,000 in a day. And this is a rewrite. If I could get into that marathon-mentality. Equally fancy retiring. Taking a complete holiday from it all and polishing taps and pruning tomato plants and cooking different recipes and pottering and talking to fish and being a normal person. But then, who doesn't? And who can?

Bye bye, thanks for visiting, come again soon.

1 comment:

skintwriter said...

Normal? Stop swearing now and get those 30,000 words done ;)