Disappointed to say the least

Having finished Hoodies 2 and Book of Pain, and waiting for my wonderful beta readers to give me their impressions of what I've written so far of Kongomato 2, I cracked open the vault where languished my old floppy discs. Did we ever really use those? It's hard to believe. Anyway, I retrieved, finally, the first half of Old Geezers 2 that I had written on Word Perfect 5.1 which I still believe to be the best word processing package ever written -  right until Coral bought and buggered it up.

    I just cannot believe how intrinsically awful it is. Not the plot, I still like that. What's awful is my writing style, or lack thereof. So many "That's", no contractions and passive verbs slouching limply all over the MS. Not that I think I'm the best writer in the world now but I have definitely improved. So, and I don't think I'm the only one, if you want to see how much you, as writers have improved your technique, see if you can find something you wrote about five years ago. Prepare to cringe. I did.

Yahhey!

Three Hoodies Save The World 3 is finished. Or at least the second draft is. Being all confident and cheeky, I was almost at the end when I realised that the last seventy pages were complete trash.

   But I've done it now and I'm more or less happy. Or at least less unhappy. As with all my other books, there's still a long way to go but before that, I'm going to finish (draft 1) of Kongomato 2.

   But not today. Tonight I'm going to watch back to back NCIS until I'm sick of it and tomorrow get back to writing.

  I finally finished my beach. I fancied a change from martinis so I thought I'd have a can or two of beer.

Time to start thinking of holidays

It's that time again. I'll think about a holiday but as usual I won't go, just like every year. 
However, I've designed the perfect place. I don't know where it is; or even whether it's even on earth. All I need is a parasol, somewhere to store an infinite number of icy martinis and I'm set.

   On second thoughts the rocks may have to go. After an infinite number of martinis, there's an infinitely larger chance of me falling over and breaking my neck. But since it's my world I could always make them out of rubber, I suppose.

   Any suggestions as to what I've missed out?

   Can't think of any. Sea, sun, sand and booze, what could possibly be missing?

A little bit from my new book.

Here's an excerpt from Three Hoodies Save The World 3 which will soon be ready.

I'm not going to keep the cover; it was just something to focus my mind.

  ‘Mr Smithers will see you in a moment.’ The receptionist droned without lifting her eyes from her magazine. That was the final straw. David closed his eyes pretending that he was at home, or just about anywhere other than here. But only for a moment. Thinking that David was about to join in, Sad-case took a deep breath and closed his eyes ready to make the Guinness world title of mega far...only to be wrenched bodily with almost enough force to swallow his teeth.

  ‘We’re getting out of here.’ David hissed quietly, grabbing the nearby arm of Sarah who had stopped smiling upon seeing his face. ‘I’m not waiting around for them to come for us. If they want to rip all my teeth out or give me some kind of Mega injection up the jacksy then they can come looking. Coming?’ Sad-case and Sarah, now sane once more nodded. ‘Walk all casual-like over to the woman, then when I give the nod leg it through the door over there. Right?’ Sad-case nodded, trying not to think what might happen if the door were to be locked.

  ‘So, Adrian,’ David said in a too-casual voice that wouldn’t have fooled a retarded hamster, ‘I was telling the Headmaster,’ He minced over to the door giving Sad-case the nod, and discretely nudging Sarah before him ‘I said, look, if you’re going to give us homework then at least make it challenging. I mean, I read all about quantum physics on the back of a corn flake packet. I mean, let’s have...Sad. Go!’

  Sad-case flew to the door, grasping the handle with enough to force to make three of his joints crack. David followed an instant after Sarah who was using those incredible trainers to good effect again. Such was his momentum that his knee hit Sad-case right in the bum causing him to howl in agony and fall forwards onto the door before he'd even had the chance to try it.

  ‘Move it!’ He squealed, seeing their only chance slipping away, and giving Sad-case a dig in the stomach to make his point.

  Luckily the door was open, and very well oiled due to the way Sad-case flew backwards, his back hitting the wall with a grunt of expelled breath. In a second they were through, the startled cries of the receptionist lost as they were greeted by a corridor, a long very corridor with only one door and that was at the end, about half a mile away.

  David didn’t care. He sprinted past, Sad-case’s and Sarah’s footfalls barely a second behind him. Whatever lay behind that door was either going to kill them or save them. He didn’t consider any other scenario, which was probably a good job.

Book of Pain is finally finished.

Well, the first draft, anyway.

   I've had this book in my head for fifteen years and now it's finally done. The ending is entirely different from that which I'd planned. But just in case I feel it's wrong, I began saving it under another file name about seventy pages from the end, so I can always fall back to version 16a if I have to. There's a lot of work to do before I'll even consider releasing it and although I'm happy, I also feel a little depressed that it's finished. 

   Now I'll go and finish Kongomato 2 and then Three Hoodies 3 before I go back and start editing B/O/Pain.

   Can't wait. Except that there's only one thing, and it's always the same.

   Why do my shift keys always fall apart half way through a book? It's not as if I'm heavier on them than any other key. Looks Like I'll be buying yet another keyboard. It's not so bad, though, it's only the third this year.

   I managed thirty five pages today and now my neck is so stiff I can barely move it. My wife is not impressed, either, I can't turn to her as we speak. I reckon her elbow will be doing overtime into my rib cage for the next few days.

My wife thinks I don't listen to her.

Or at least I think that's what she said.

   No, I really do listen, except that the other night we were watching television when:

   'Are you listening to me?'

   'Of course, my linnet, my dove.' I turned to her while extracting her elbow from between my fourth and fifth rib.

   'Well what did I say, then?'

   And that was the problem. I've spent the last four months trying to form a cohesive end to my new novel The book Of Pain. It hasn't exactly consumed my every waking moment but after changing it from the fourth time, I was finally coming up with something that just might work. Unfortunately my beloved was also telling me, whilst watching a soap, and playing a computer game and regaling me with every detail of her day, in that beguiling but irritatingly fluent way women are able to do 1000000000000000000 things at the same time, while I usually content myself with trying to remember my name and where I live - but not at the same time.

    'So can I?'

   This was it. Should I admit it and feel the wrath of "She who must be obeyed?" or tell her that I could feel a coronary coming on and to be gentle with me. Then I began to feel my own justified anger. I had, after all, just worked for sixteen hours without a break. I turned, on the verge of reminding her of this with a self righteous sqwark when I remembered that she had, and habitually did work far more hours than I do.

   'Yes, my darling. Of course. Go for it.'

   She seemed satisfied, and now I'm wondering what addition I'm going to find to the family tomorrow - or conversely what subtraction. She's a dab hand with a carving knife.

Just done something I've never done before

What? I hear you ask. Finally paid your taxes? Got round to doing all the jobs your wife has been moaning about for years?

   No.

   I've finally written a sex scene. Or more precisely, I've written a scene which includes some sex. I've been avoiding for over twenty years and in eleven books I've never done it. 

   In my Hoodies series there isn't any. There's no place for it in a Y/A novel.

   In my Old Geezers novels, they're too old for anything but memories -  and accidentally destroying worlds.

   There isn't any sex in Kongomato but now I've broken my duck, as it were, I think there might be some in Kongomato 2.

   I'll admit it. I've been too embarrassed. Where is the line between part of the plot and gratuitous sex? So I've just avoided it.

   If or hopefully when people read The Book Of Pain they will see that at least once there has to be sex if only for my hero's sanity, or if not that because it's a necessary part of the plot. Hopefully my ever patient beta readers will give me their opinion and suggestions.

   I still didn't enjoy it and I doubt I ever will. My books will never contain much more than implied or inferred sex. Perhaps that's why I'll never be a best seller.

   Don't care. I can't write about something that makes me feel awkward. 

   The real thing - well that's fine. It's just the written kind.  I have no moral objection to it, but It just doesn't feel right, and I didn't enjoy it.