*sings* Shiny, shiny new book for you! Who wants a new book? Is it you? Oh please do! *stops singing*
OK so I’m no Gary farking Barlow, it took me TEN MINUTES to compose that jolly ditty and I’m farking PROUD, yeah? Joy does strange things to your mind and, absolutely totally for a moment there I thought I was capable of producing song. Well, turns out I am shit at that, but what I am good at it is blogging and stuff, and to prove it, I’ve published a little ebook which you might purchase for your good selves, called…
That’s it, that’s my blog post book, all the good stuff from motherventing compiled and compacted into uber-shminky digital form, without any guff or nonsense to distract you from the quality spaff.
And all for the princely sum of £1.02!
That is LITERALLY the best £1.02 you will EVER spend. I guarantee you. And if it’s not, just let me know, and I’ll refund* you. (*I won’t. I’ll hex you instead)
S’all I have to say for now. If you have ever read any of my blog posts and thought they were all right/awesome/like the bible only better, then please do reach into your capacious bank accounts and download my book to carry with you forever. It might give me the impetus to write mooooooore.
If you don’t have an Kindle or other electronic reading device, you can download a reading app for your computer or whatever, and that is free. And THEN you can buy my book. Aha.
Instructions, for the bewildered and overwhelmed:
- buy book
- read book
- laugh, cry, vomit, whatevs
- leave a five star review
- read book again
- send me biscuits
That’s pretty much it. Easy, mais non?
£1.02. You know it makes sense.
I loves y’all. Thank you.
*exits, mounted on a unicorn*
I had an interesting conversation with that Amanda Jennings The Author at the weekend. It was the first time I’d met her, and apart from making me spaff a record THREE TIMES (henceforth known as the Triple Uber-Spaff) within the hour, we talked about this, that, and t’other for a bit, and about how we’re going to write an AWARD-WINNING sitcom and we will also STAR in it, and about how clever we are and stuff, and, erm, we also chatted about stuff and stuff, and stuff. Yeah, so I may have had some gin. Innit.
But one thing I did say to her was about my default setting: that I assume everyone’s a cunt until I’m proved otherwise. That people, in general, are TOTAL CUNTS, until someone restores my faith in humans being non-cunts. Which, really, doesn’t happen too often.
Amanda Jennings The Author was surprised. She did her surprised face. ‘Really?’ she said, in a surprised voice, being all surprised. Her default setting, y’see, was the opposite. Which, in turn, surprised me. Is this normal? Am I in a minority of bad-tempered curmudgeons? Is everybody, in fact, part of some big, smiley, fluffy love-in with the rest of the human race, dancing on rainbows and drinking fizzy pop and tickling kittens? Can’t be true. Can it? Kittens are for stamping on, surely? Yet now I’ve been mulling over this a while, I have ACTUAL FEARS that I am going to end up old and alone, living in a stinky hovel, throwing rocks at children and eating roadkill – all because I think everyone is a cunt.
I mean, OBVIOUSLY I know that not everyone is a cunt. In fact I have met some truly non-cuntish people recently who make me feel all warm and tolerant of mankind, rather than vengeful and stabby. However, as I explained to Amanda Jennings The Author, when you’ve been let down by the last people on earth you would ever think to let you down, it kind of lowers your expectations somewhat. Sometimes it’s easier to assume that you’re surrounded by cunts. Then you ain’t so disappointed. Innit.
So I need to change my thinking, yeah? I need to rein in some of this spiky-minded kitten-stamping hatefulness and start hugging trees and, erm, smiling and everything, yeah? Cos not everyone’s a cunt. Right?
What’s your default setting? And have I actually written ‘cunt’ far too much in this blog post?
OK, OK it had to be done. Y’all know how I’ve licked Kevin Spacey? Well, there’s plenty of other people I’d happily take my tongue to. Oh yes. And not your regular muscled hunks either, no no. This Lick List is dedicated to the oddities we somehow INEXPLICABLY fancy, and the whole world thinks we’re mentalistic, but we don’t care, cos given half the chance, and no restraining orders (sorry Kev) we would TOTALLY and SLEAZILY lick them. ON THE FACE.
This be my Lick List. Who’s on yours? (remember: must be a bit odd. Regular smuttage-fodder not allowed)
- Tom Jones
- Brian Blessed
- Alan Rickman (that VOICE *spaff*)
- Gary Oldman
- Morgan Freeman
- Cliff Richard
- Alan Cumming
- Richard E. Grant
- Rowan Atkinson
- Kevin Costner (what is it about Kevins?)
- the weather man on my local news (I don’t know his name, Geoff summat, or Dave)
- David Mitchell (the comedian)
- David Mitchell (the author)
- Tim Dowling
- Jon Ronson
- Russell Brand (I know, I know, but I just would, OK? Just to see what he tasted like)
- the Pope
- Barack Obama
- Prof Brian Cox
- Steve Buscemi
- Danny de Vito
Oh gawd, I could go on. Please bear in mind when compiling such a list, it is a LICK list, not a shag list, or a roger gently list, or a spanking list. That’s an ENTIRELY different matter and MANY more blog posts.
So. C’mon. Who are you going to lick?
I’ve just noticed mine seem to be mostly be old men. Old, bearded men. Yikes.
Hello *desultory wave* My name is motherventing and I have writer’s block.
This is my block. *points* THIS. This blog is a block.
While I write this blog – which I LOVE doing, by the way – I don’t write anything else. Which is bad. Which is very NAUGHTY. Apparently I am a writer. I have a book available on Amazon. I would like, really truly, to write another book. I have ideas. TWO ideas. For two separate books. And my gut instinct is telling me they’re winners. So why I aren’t I scribbling (or, um, tapping) away like a madwoman every minute of every hour of every day?
Uh, because of this. *points*
My blog is like my baby. I love it almost as much as my real baby. (JOKE). I like to write funny posts for it, and edit some lovely photos to go in it, and I really enjoy people posting comments on it so’s I can read them and know that you’re loving it too.
It takes up a lot of time. I should really manage my time MUCH better. Diversify. Delegate, maybe. But my spare time now – when I should be dusting, washing up, or writing my next magnum opus, say – is spent blogging. I just simply adore my little blog. *strokes blog* And my time is about to get even more precious as I embark upon the gaudy adventure of amdram. So I know the writer’s block will get ever huger.
What I need is: more hours in the day, as well as less time needed asleep; and some sort of parenting replica – maybe a ROBOT – who will take Moo for a bit and let me get some writing shizzle going on.
Or, I just need to sort it out.
Writers! And non-writerly folk! Kick me up the arse! How do I motivate myself?
Oh! My poor short stories page. I have neglected it so, what with all this bloggage and twatting about on Twitter. Truth be told, I’m not a prolific short story writer. I like to ramble on and waffle about with my prose, and a 2500 word limit is like some sort of cruel manacle to my creativity. The stories I have displayed for thine perusal on mine blog are all quite old. And therefore may be shite.
So what I’m asking you, dear readers, is to cast your eyes over my fictions wot I’m pimping, and maybe feel moved enough to let me know what you think? I don’t even mind if you’re horrid about them. Criticism can be constructive (please be gentle. I have a fragile ego) and I PROMISE I won’t hunt you down and bitch-slap you if you say I should rewrite them or summat.
Look, I’ve even made it EASY-PEASY for you by putting links here. I’m so GENEROUS (and pushy).
I wrote this as part of an assignment for my MA. The prompt was ‘Desire’ and I remember resolutely ignoring that and writing this instead. I got a good mark but my tutor did ask: ‘So what has this got to do with the prompt?’ ‘Pretty much nowt’ was probably my reply. Who cares when you have a story you’re bursting to tell? The little girl’s voice was so clear in my head there was no doubt about getting it on paper. I still love this story and some of the imagery I’ve used I’m quite proud of.
Ah now this was when I’d finished my MA and planned to write a collection of short stories on the theme of gods. I’d just finished reading American Gods by Neil Gaiman and wanted to steal all his ideas. This story (and another which I might add later) was as far as I got! I tried to imagine a primeval god that had a very modern voice. So you have to read it and think of a monster-ish creature that sounds like it lives on a south London council estate. Innit.
Another one written for my MA. By this point I’d decided to write a children’s book centring around Romany Gypsies for my final project and this story was a tentative lead into my thoughts. The Appleby Fair is a huge event in the Gypsy calendar and I like the sense of history and folklore it has. This story is set soon after the Second World War and is about a young man who decides not to return to his travelling roots after serving in the army. Naturally his family – especially his father – is not too pleased about this. I’ve used Romany words and expressions (did a lot of research) and the style is similar to the one used for my final project.
Speaking of which, if you would like to read my final project – which I got a distinction for, by the way *smug face* – then you can purchase it for your Kindle or to download onto your PC, by clicking through to this page on the Amazon website:
If you want to read a bit more about the plot, go to my For Sale page and peruse at your pleasure.
Now all this blogging is fabbo and stuff, but I do really want to get into writing fiction again. If I get some lovely words of encouragement then that could be the thing that motivates me! I’ve got some ideas floating around in my brains that need putting on page soon or they’ll trickle out of my nostrils and leave funny stains on my blouse. And we don’t want that to happen, do we?
*awaits resounding ‘no’*
There. I have pimped my fiction. I’ll be back later to check up on youse.
The theme this week on the Sticky Fingers blog mega-meme The Gallery is Inspirational People.
I am inspired by Fearne Cotton to punch her in the face, but I don’t think that’s what this theme is about. So, I’ve trawled the essential Google Images for some pics of famous writers wot I want to be like when I grow up, and then thrown in some of my own photos of folk I actually know. I will NOT be making any heartfelt speeches about how I was ‘empty’ until these inspirational people ‘filled me with light and laughter and hope’. Nope. That would be soppy. *cough*
Enid Blyton – my absolute passion for reading began with this lady. One of the happiest days of my childhood was when I found 10 of her books for £1 in a car boot sale. If I could be as half as prolific and loved as she was (and still is) I would be content.
Margaret Atwood – I’ve not read a book by her that I haven’t enjoyed. The Handmaid’s Tale is a well-crafted piece of science fiction, with heart and drama and verve. Worth a read if you’ve not yet tried it!
Daphne du Maurier – again, I love ALL her books. Her stories are exquisitely plotted and she was the master (mistress?) of suspense. Rebecca is the classic but I have a soft spot for My Cousin Rachel and The Scapegoat.
My wonderful friend Bunny, who is an actress and is touring the country right now in a production of Macbeth. She inspires me because she’s a tough little cookie, and no matter what I’m going through, always makes me laugh like a loon. We’ve known each other a long time, shared the ups and downs, and I still love her like crazy. One of my favourite people ever.
And this is one of my favourite photos. Mum and Dad, on their wedding day. They may not be together now but I love them both fiercely and this picture makes me smile. They inspire me because I want to make them proud of me!
And last but by no means least, is my girl. What can I say? She inspires me to be a better person. She came along and filled the emptiness with light, and laughter, and hope… oh wait… *smacks self in mouth*
Who are your inspirational people? Do a post then link on up at Sticky Fingers. No talk of emptiness filled, please *cough cough*
I don’t know! Even though my book is for sale, and people have bought it, and told me they have enjoyed it… I still don’t feel like a proper author.
I feel a bit like someone PRETENDING to be one.
Do I need to hold a copy of the book in my hands to get that validation?
If someone asks me, ‘So, what do you do?’ can I reply, ‘I’m an author’?
I DON’T KNOW!
I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was running around in pigtails and shorts (no, not last week). My first ‘book’ was called The Adventures of Penny, Jenny, Sam and Ritzi the Dog. I wrote it on a hardback folio. It was three pages long. I do believe the characters travelled on a boat to a desert island, got stranded, and then went home. I know. How it didn’t become a bestseller, I’ll NEVER know.
But it was a start. It was a complete story, and my blog readers will know that I have trouble finishing stories (it’s a motivation thing, y’know) so for me, it was an achievement. I wanted nothing more than to write stories and make a living out of it. Sitting in front of a computer (or a pen and paper back in the Middle Ages) and tapping out my thoughts strikes me as one of the best ways to spend a day working. And to hold a book in your hands that you’ve written! There’s surely nothing better than that?
Well. I have a book published. It’s not in print, but it’s published. So, technically, I’m an author.
I’m an author!
‘So what do you do?’
‘Me? Oh, I’m an author. Yeah – an AUTHOR. I wrote a book. What have you written? Have you written a book? No? Oh, you’re not an author then, are you? Mahahahaha!’
(Being an author seems to have turned me into an arsehole)
Anyway. While I wrangle with my sudden advancement in the world, take a look at my article on this writer’s website (and have a browse, obv. There are some fab stories/reviews on there). Apparently, I’m a proper author now…