2014 Roundup

So, here we are, my last blog post of 2014. And what a year it’s been. At the start of the year, I was still suffering such terrible back problems I could barely sit at my computer for long enough to write a blog post. Now, I’ve managed to churn out 65,000 words (and counting) on my new work-in-progress fantasy novel, The Silvergreen Sea. Then, I was on extended sick leave from my job at Rolls-Royce. Now, I’ve quit the day job to devote myself to writing full-time. Then, I could barely get beyond a walking radius of my house, and gainful employment was a distant dream. Now, I’ve managed extended trips as far as visiting relatives on the South Coast, and day trips to London. I’ve also taken a temporary Christmas job selling books at Waterstone’s. Which is great when I get to hand-sell books by authors I enjoy, like Robin Hobb, Brandon Sanderson, or Ben Aaronovitch: and less great when I have to deal with customers who say things like ‘I’m looking for a book – I can’t remember the title, or the author, but it’s got a red cover.’ But overall, I love being able to spend lots of time surrounded by thousands of books, and it keeps me out of trouble. Mostly.

Money is a lot tighter now; only this morning I’ve had to turn down a posh Christmas dinner – something I would have said ‘yes’ to unthinkingly two years ago – because I simply can’t afford to go. But then, one year ago, I would have had to turn it down because I simply couldn’t have sat down for long enough for eat a seven-course meal. I know which situation I’d rather be in. And, let’s be honest, if I check my privilege, I know I’m still better-off financially than the majority of my fellow citizens, so I’ve really got nothing to complain about there.

It hasn’t been all good, of course. Efforts by me and my agent to find a publisher for either my first novel or the in-development second one have met with disappointment thus far. But hey, maybe 2015 will be the year that we crack it. And I’ve now got enough time available to write my books, so if the first one doesn’t make it, maybe the second one will, or the third, or even the fourth. One thing I’m certainly very, very rich in is ideas. So I’ll raise a glass of what a friend of mine refers to as ‘aggravated wine’ to the festive season and the end of another transformational year.

A vanishing pleasure?

Happy new year all, and welcome to my 2014… it’s not been a stellar year so far, but there is at least plenty of time for it to improve. And early January is always enlivened by the new shiny objects received at Christmas, including of course several books to add to the reading list. I should really try to make some more headway with said list and spend less time looking at Buzzfeed. My reading habits have been put to shame by my husband, normally quite a slow reader, who has munched through 5 books in the past couple of weeks, exhausting all available volumes of interest. So today we ventured out to Waterstone’s to get something new.
It’s funny how, over the years, Waterstone’s has gradually transformed, without actually itself changing all that much. I remember when it was an ogre of the high street, gobbling up lesser shops like Dillon’s and Ottakar’s and putting poor independent booksellers out of business. Now it’s a beleaguered symbol of old school retail, under threat from the evil empire of the Amazon, a fire kindled under its profits. I don’t actually have that much sentimental attachment to Waterstone’s, not compared with late lamented Borders and its very generous approach to allowing customers to read books in store, or Blackwell’s in Oxford which nurtured me through my academic career. But I was struck today with the sheer joy of book shopping, the pulse-quickening sensation of walking into a whole building dedicated to books, and being able to wander around tables covered in books and shelves full of books, and browse through hundreds of the things, picking them up, feeling the weight, flipping through them, admiring the covers of the special editions, the gloss and the matte, the hard back and the soft, the fiction and the non. And then the excitement of walking out with a fresh purchase, longing to get home to try it out, every book a present waiting to be opened. I love reading physical books, I love having them on my shelves, and I love shopping for them. I don’t know how much longer book shops as a species will last, but I’ll miss them when they’re gone, and I’m going to enjoy them while I can.

It’s nearly the end of another year, and time for a few reflections before I have to start panicking about hosting Christmas next week (Can I possibly cope with making bread sauce? Especially when bread never lasts for long enough in our house to actually go stale? Will 12 bottles of wine be enough? For four of us for two days? When one of us doesn’t really drink? Maybe I should go and get more?).
Well, if 2012 was a transformation, and a vintage year, 2013 can perhaps be best described as ‘mixed’. In the winter, I moved to a four day week at the day job. In the spring, I lost my beloved Nan. In the summer, I finished one book, The Heartland of the Winter, secured an agent, and started another book, Forever 27. And in the autumn, I strained my back so badly that I’ve been essentially out of action for seven weeks and counting. Out of my creative writing and my husband’s rock climbing, who’d have thought my hobby would turn out to be the more dangerous?
Overall, I’m not sure I’m going to be looking back at 2013 with great fondness, but it hasn’t been a total annus horribilis. The last couple of months have been painful and a bit surreal at times, but it’s at least been a chance to rest and reconsider, and I’m trying to take away a few lessons. Bittersweet lessons about the important things in life, about the need to be patient and enjoy things for what they are, as they come. And harder lessons about the need to make choices, to prioritise the things which are really necessary, work hard at what matters, and accept that sometimes, you have to let go. To quote the Rolling Stones: no you can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need. This can perhaps be summarised by my reaction to my injury: at first I wanted to just let it get better by itself, without actually doing anything to help it. Then I tried throwing money at the problem: massages, chiropractor, private yoga tuition. But then all these people I was paying to make me better told me that, in this instance, I have to heal myself. Exercise, posture, breathing technique, not overdoing it, all that stuff. Boring, maybe, but necessary.

And so another year will shortly begin. What does 2014 hold in store? A publishing deal is too much to expect, but not too much to hope for. Completion of my second novel, Forever 27, should be within my power. And also, perhaps, some refocusing, a bit more yoga and a bit less time slumped over a hot computer.

I’ll leave you with some half-baked homilies, fresh from the same oven I used to bake the loaf of success in a previous blog post. If you have to do something, do it with a smile. If you don’t have to do something, don’t feel bad about not doing it. All things in moderation, including moderation. Enjoy the good things, and remember, you don’t need to leave room for dessert, because you have a separate stomach for that.
Anyway, a merry Christmas to all, and a happy and productive 2014.

As another year draws to an end…

This is my end of year blog post. I’m writing it ahead of schedule for 3 reasons:
1) In case the world ends tomorrow. YOU NEVER KNOW.
2) If the world doesn’t end, so I can relax over the Christmas break and not worry about keeping my blog up-to-date.
3) I’ll be away from my main computer for the next two weeks and I don’t altogether trust the rickety old laptop my husband inadvertently melted by leaving it in the sun.
So, what’s happened to me in 2012? The answer is, quite a lot actually. I moved house. I turned 30, and took the opportunity to reflect on where I am now (Derby) compared to where I thought I might be (not Derby). I got married. I finally finished the novel I started four years ago, ‘The Heartland of the Winter’. And I got some very encouraging feedback on the book, not all of it from my mother. In other words, it’s been a pretty big year. In fact, it’s been a transformation. From scrounging lodger to home-owner, from 20-something to 30-something, from Miss to Mrs, from aspiring author with a half-finished novel to aspiring author with a completed novel, some new-found confidence, and a blog. And now that 2012 is nearly over, how do I feel? Tired. But happy.
I’m looking forward to having a break, getting in some physical and mental recuperation before heading into the new year. What does 2013 have in store? Nobody knows. And I’m not going to worry about it. Right now, I have more important things to think about, like sorting out mulled wine for a party tomorrow.
I’ll be back with further blogging action in the new year. In the meantime, Merry Christmas everyone!

Weihnachtsmärkte in Köln – like Christmas in England, but with more umlauts

My mother and I tend to buy joint experiences as mutual Christmas presents, as we don’t see each other as often as we would like, and we figure it’s more fun to have some shared memories than something to unwrap. This tradition started with a massage in Luton (don’t ask) and has now escalated to a long weekend in Cologne. For the past couple of years, I’ve been thinking that there seem to be so many German Christmas markets in England that there can’t be any left in Germany. This does not however seem to be true – Cologne at any rate has no fewer than six, and we visited every one. And had a glühwein at each of them, except the one that seemed a bit bargain-basement. Highlights of the weekend include: heavy snowfall making the whole place look almost impossibly festive; a bunch of people dressed as pirates for no obvious reason (‘Are they English pirates?’ my stepdad wanted to know), buying a beautiful hand-made notebook bound in red leather (the more decorative the notebook, the better the writing); and a drink with the jaw-crunching name of feuerzangenbowle. It’s a kind of über-glühwein involving rum, sugar, and fire. It’s both delicious and dangerous – especially in a crowded bar.

It wasn’t all drinking though – we also ate plenty of food. I sampled the Cologne speciality ‘Himmel und Äd’ – ie, blutwurst with fried onions, mashed potatoes and apple sauce. The name means ‘heaven and hell’ although I’m not sure which bit is supposed to be the heaven and which the hell. Never mind, I enjoyed it – on a freezing cold day you can’t beat a plate of good German stodge. And of course, we spent lots of money at the markets on the usual stuff: lebkuchen, stollen, Christmas decorations, various gifts… We also wandered into the Dom to try to absorb some culture, but every time we went in they were inconsiderately having a church service and wouldn’t let us go beyond the end of the nave.

In a happy coincidence, no sooner had I tweeted ‘Cologne Weinachtsmarkt in the snow is the most Christmassy thing ever. Fact.’ than I noticed that a friend I hadn’t seen in many years had set his Facebook status to ‘Snowy Köln! Once again I have totally inappropriate footwear….’ It was too good a chance to pass up. Never mind that we could have seen each other at any time over the last five years but hadn’t managed to get round to it, thanks to the miracle of social networking we had found out that we were both in Cologne on the same weekend, so we had to do coffee. Anyway, it was great to catch up and see what different paths we had taken – me a job in industry and writing fantasy when I can, him a Master’s in Comparative Linguistics followed by a D.Phil in Ancient Greek. I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite such a miserable monoglot than when hearing him talk about noun cases in a dozen different tongues. It made me think I should really get around to learning another language – the sticking point as ever is finding the time. Can I really perfect my English prose and learn vocab in French or German or Spanish as well?

At least now I have agreed with my boss that I can try out compressed hours – ie, working 5 days in 4, giving me Fridays off. I’m hoping it’ll allow me to write more – the only problems will be coping with the longer hours Monday to Thursday, and making sure I use my day off wisely. But I’m not going to worry about that until the New Year – in the mean time, having got in the festive mood, I’m taking a break from writing for a bit. So, Fröhliche Weihnachten all!