I skived off last night because my arm was hurting, so I feel I need to be extra productive this evening and make up for wasted time. (Not that watching Red Dwarf and spying on my fish is wasted time, exactly, but it's not editing or writing either).

So:

1. Write up October's horoscopes for the Cambridge Explorer. That's something I don't really pimp round here that often. Are people interested in my adventures with Tarot cards and astrology, or is it best left unpimped?

2. Edit two more chapters of SILVER KISS. I've set myself a goal this week of two chapters a night, and so far have been doing three (apart from last night when the lure of the catfish proved too strong to resist).

3. Go over the first chapter of Night and Chaos for submission to my writers' group. I haven't touched it for almost a year, so I'm sure it's a horrendous mess, and I'd like it to be just a little bit less so before it gets ripped to pieces critiqued.

4. Spy on the fish.

So I've got a couple of ideas in mind for my next writing project. I really want to go back to Night and Chaos, which started life last year as a novella, but now feels more like a novel. It's a dark urban fantasy - the darkest thing I've written, I think, and having re-read the 9k I wrote last year recently, I'm keen to dive back in.

And I'm halfway through a novella I'd quite like to submit to Harlequin's Nocturne Bites line once it's finished and polished up. I love short story writing, and I think it's a great exercise for any writer - if you learn to craft a short story properly, it will show in your novels. Your prose is tighter, and your pacing is better. You don't have time to arse around in short stories, so every word counts and you quickly learn to pick your words for maximum effect. You learn to eliminate the "telling, not showing" problem, and you get used to working to specific word counts and making best use of them. Seriously, I could go on about this subject all day if you let me. But anyway...

Really, the priority for me right now is SILVER KISS and it's sequels. I had a long chat with chaostheorya couple of nights ago about the direction I want the sequels to go in, as well as the overarcing themes of the series (tentatively called Wolf City at this point). One of the themes that kept cropping up, both in Wolf Strap and SILVER KISS is the idea that fertility rates are low amongst werewolves. The obvious problem with this is that, say your wolves are only producing one child per couple, your population is halving with every generation, and you're on the fast-track to extinction. Not great.

I talked this problem over with both my writers' group and chaostheory, and brainstormed some scenarios that will tie in nicely to a plot strand of the second book (tentatively called Bad Dogs). It does mean I have to do some in-depth research on the causes of fertility problems, which I imagine will make my brain hurt. But I'm determined to do this idea justice, even if it requires learning science, and then trashing what I've learned and mixing it up with Eastern European werewolf folklore, a bit of stuff I'm just making the hell up, and maybe some cannibalism too.*

*I'm joking about the cannibalism.**

**Or am I?

( PS... ).

Three days back at work after a week off, and my arm is killing me and I've wrenched my left shoulder - again. I don't know when I became so fragile. Laura the Physio says I'm too tense, a lot of which I put down to work/money-related unhappiness. So watch this space while Nome moves to New Zealand and becomes a shepherd.

In writing news, I've sent a few queries out for Death for the Born, one of which has turned into a partial request from a great agent, so yay! Night and Chaos is trying to turn into a novel, and Wonderland, which is actually a novel, is threatening to turn into a sprawling epic of staggering proportions. I know this because, even though I'm still writing chapter one, I've already got titles and plots for two sequels.

Of course whether or not I get round to writing them depends entirely on how soon I get out of this job and into the sheep-herding business.

* Bill Barnes and Gene Ambaum. This post has nothing to do with explosions, car chases, nudity or espionage. Sorry.

Anyway, I've been thinking for ages I need to write this post on how books are like boyfriends but then I signed up to Facebook and Twitter and the world disappeared... But now I'm sort of overwhelmed by Facebook and Twitter and have stepped back to write the post. So:

Books are like boyfriends (or girlfriends if that's how you roll). Writing a book is like being in a relationship, each one having a different affect on you. I take my own work as examples:

Fire and Moonlight: My first love, the novel I will forever see through rose-tinted glasses despite it's many faults. The one I measure all other ideas, characters, plots, and novels against, despite it's flaws. This is the novel I loved first, and after this I just loved love. Or novels. Or something. Whatever. It's inevitable that I will return to this and we'll kiss in the rain, or I'll write it in the rain or something.

Wild: This is the bastard boyfriend/novel who made your life miserable but you loved him/it anyway and you keep daydreaming about getting back with him/it even though he/it took drugs and probably cheated on you with other women/novels. I'm convinced I can make this book work. It just needs a year of rehab and some anger management.

Death for the Born: This is the current relationship, and whilst everything seems to be going well now and we're having fun and he/it makes me laugh, I have a sneaking suspicion it will all be over soon. Because, you know, I'll finish the redraft and have to send it out to agents. And it's like that whole "if you love something, set it free" and you sit at home and chew your fingernails and wonder what your life would be like if you'd stuck with that drug-taking bastard/novel from before.

Night and Chaos: Now, this is destined to be a short relationship because it's only a novella, and it's like that guy I dated at university where I knew we'd break up when I graduated but I didn't really care. It's fun, it's sweet, but it's not serious and it's never going to take the place of the first love. Or even the drug-taking bastard/novel.

Okay, I'm probably not making much sense. I did put a lot of Baileys in my hot chocolate tonight. But I think I have a valid point in here somewhere. You develop relationships with your WIPs. After all, they're in your life for quite some time and they take up a lot of your energy. And you're always holding out for The One that will be perfect and take you away to Paris for the weekend win you that elusive publishing contract. So here's to promiscuity of the writing kind!

Oh, and this is the first picture that came up when I Googled "nudity and espionage." So, you know ... enjoy ...