Books I loved reading.

Friday, 27 May 2011

Writing without sarcasm

I'm not used to writing without the slightest trace of humour. Sarcasm, hyperbole, cynicism, irony, it's all there usually. In my new novel, however there's no chance of humour, unless it's of the gallows kind. I might be able to work some in later but at the moment it's all bleak. I wonder if people will read it long enough to get to any lighter moments later on without leaping off the nearest cliff or jumping under any passing truck. I like writing humorously. Other people might not find my stuff funny but I do. My wife thinks I'm completely strange and has suggested that I seek professional help. I told her that's what I should have done after I married her. It didn't go down well. Can't think why.
  I'll keep going, though. It's interesting if only as an exercise. Though I'd probably best get rid of the cut-throat razor that I keep in my desk to sharpen pencils. It might be catching.

Sunday, 22 May 2011

I think I'm losing it.

It's amazing what writers (or is that just me) can find to do while I'm trying to write; or conversely trying not to.
    I don't know how many times I've seen this sign  before and it's always made me smile. I had an idea for a story but it won't work, or maybe it will but it wouldn't be very long. So I just settled for painting this picture.
   Then I finally found my muse - what exactly is a muse? I'm actually writing in the middle of the night, annoying nobody and not even drinking when my beloved "just pops in" to check that I'm not dead, but in reality ensuring that I'm not having an electronic relationship with a thirty stone truck driver calling himself Cindy. 
    Then this morning I read two stories. The first announcing the death of the paper book in favour of its electronic replacement. Fine with me. The second from an equally reliable source bemoaning the dearth of good ebooks owing to the fact that readers of the world want to caress actual paper with their feverish fingers in some kind of deviant thrill that has little or nothing to do with reading. Perhaps if books were made from fishnet stocking I could understand.
   Regardless, whether the future is electronic or stockings, sorry paper I'm going to continue writing. I'm up to page fifty three of my new novel. It's going well.
   Oh, I've just received an email from Cindy.

Saturday, 21 May 2011

Got my novels on Amazon

I've managed to get my novels on Amazon for Kindle.
  I even downloaded a sample of the first onto my own Kindle. How's that for self serving gratification? I began leaving my Kindly lying around, switched on, my book prominently, well morosely, displayed for people to "accidently" see and ask about.
 Unfortunately the whole plan might be a little faulty since I won't let my Kindle out of my sight. I wonder if going on the bus and loudly proclaiming the wonderous beauty of something I'd just discovered, might earn me a few sales. Though, knowing London it would probably result in being beaten to a pulp by muggers and have them laugh at my pitiful attempt at writing before standing on it and returning the mangled remains with a gentle smile of sympathy.
  But that's all right. Sympathy I can take as long as someone buys my book. Can muggers read? Maybe I should begin work on a pidgin English version. My boss might like it.

Friday, 20 May 2011

Tenth book - going strong(ish)

This writing to a plan isn't as easy as I thought. For the past couple of decades I've just been chucking words onto the page and having a good time. I'm still having a good time but I'm actually having to think. I'm not particularly fond of thinking. I'm called on to do it at work occasionally and it's not a pleasant experience. How people do it all the time I'll never know. Even my boss isn't too keen on my thinking either. Says it upsets the natural balance. I know what I think of him. In fact I think the same word every time I see him.
  So I'm going to continue in the same way. When I think of all the times I've re-edited my last works of amatuerish junk, I know I can't go back to it. Maybe I'll make my boss some kind of anti-hero in my new novel. Have to make sure he never reads it, though. Although that shouldn't be much of a problem. I'm not sure he can read anything that doesn't include at least one football result. Or whose doing what, to whom, and where  -with pictures.

Saturday, 14 May 2011

My tenth new book

I finally began my new book today. This is my tenth and I'm determined that I'm going to get it published. So this time I'm not going to write it like I did all the rest. This time, I'm going to have a plan. I'll name all the characters. I'll know (more or less) what's going to happen in every chapter and I'll know how it's going to end.
  And this time, I won't begin paragraphs with conjunctions. I'll write it all slowly; not just throw it down and re-edit it fifty five thousand times afterwards. This is going to be the book that sells. And even if it doesn't, at least it will be my best book - so far.

And as for that writing a book without the letter E - what a joke that turned out to be. Whoever does stuff like that is a far better man than me. I tried and I blew it. I got up to nearly five hundred words and felt like gouging my eyes out with a spoon just so that I wouldn't have to see it again.