Since I've been mildly irritated ever since the hobo stole my Malibu, I may as well unburden myself here and get it out of system. And, caveat - of course I love urban fantasy. It's my genre, what I write, what I read, what I adore. So this is all light-hearted. So:

1. Men's names that are short-hand for "I'm a dark and sexy mysterious type with possible angst." - There are an awful lot of Dantes*, particularly. LKH is guilty of bringing us Wicked, Truth, and London, amongst others.

2. Spelling words with "i" instead of "y" to indicate Mysticism - actually this is true of swords and sorcery fantasy too, but every time I see "wyne" instead of "wine" or "myst" instead of "mist", or indeed "vampyre" instead of "vampire" I die a little inside.

3. Women's names that are deliberately spelled exoticly as short-hand for "I'm a free-spirited kook but I'm not above being a total bitch but nobody will hold it against me". I'm looking at you, Zoey Redbird.

4. Monsters that are just people with fangs. Come on, people! Let's see someone get their throat ripped out! Is it so much to ask that just one vampire isn't saved by the Power of Love?

*And I myself am guilty of this as I have a Durante in Death for the Born, which is of course where the nickname Dante comes from. And yes, he certainly is a dark and sexy mysterious type with possible angst.

Look what Amazon recommended me! I totally want this boxset. I need it. I need these films. I mean! Octopus 1 and 2?! Why do I not already own this?!

In actual news, I've been working on the Super Sneaky Secret Side Project tonight. Not added much because my arm is sore, but I'm happy with the progress I have made.

6039 / 15000 words. 40% done!

I can't wait for my week off next week when I can really crack on with this and SILVER KISS for a few sweet, uninterrupted days. Just have to slog through a few more work days first...

Massive thanks to everyone for the congratulations  on SILVER KISS! *mwah* to all of you :)

I just got home from Norfolk - had been to see my grandparents in their soon-to-be-sold house by the sea, which I always love. Next time I move house, it's got to be to live by the ocean. It's been kind of a long day, so now I'm lazing around watching Futurama and wishing it wasn't already Monday tomorrow. We've got another workshop starting tomorrow, and a new programme (which by all accounts will be attended solely by insane biologists), so it's going to be another long day. And hot. It will probably result in ice cream after work, which nobody wants. Well, except me.

I finished work at 3.30pm today (thank you, God) and was all like "okay, let's cycle home at top speed and BE PRODUCTIVE! YEAH!" Instead I cycled home at a snail's pace, ate the remains of a tub of Phish Food (thank you, Ben and Jerry) and fell asleep in front of Family Guy.

This was not the afternoon I envisioned.

Still, it's the Girton Write-In tonight, so I will be somewhat productive for a few hours. Can't decide whether to work on Silver Kiss or a Sneaky Secret Side Project. Hmm...

I've finally reached a point in my life where Spontaenous Human Combustion is the answer to my problems.

I knew buying that documentary would pay off!

http://www.cornex.co.uk/ccm/cornex/2009/vampires-rock.en

OMG, does anyone want to come and see this with me? Seriously? I'd love to go!

My make-up is a mess. I can't feel my legs. My hair is wet because even though it's June - JUNE - it's tipping it down outside. And I'm half an hour early to work.

None of these things make me happy.

And yet I am now committed to riding the damn bike home again this evening.

And all for the sake of saving £11 a week on a bus ticket. Will it be worth it?

I don't know. I just don't know.

Or so I'm lead to believe...

Wasn't there a film recently where Jessica Alba got an eye transplant and could see dead people or something? And I expect there's been plenty of books written on the subject too. Probably by Richard Laymon.

But has anyone written a story where a giant jellyfish gets the organs of a killer and invades Japan?

Didn't think so.

This is the kind of thing I worry about. Sigh.

I needed the laugh today!

Groan. I always eat too much when I spend the weekend at my parents'. I try to balance it out by going for long walks with Holly, but there's only so much damage I can undo. I got through a whole bag of Kettle Chips with Mum on Saturday night while we watched The Boy In the Striped Pyjamas. (The film isn't as good as the book, although bonus points for David Thewlis!) And then today there was cake and ice cream. Like, a lot of cake and ice cream. Good thing I didn't buy a whole load of new clothes last weekend ... Oh no, wait. I did.

On the plus side, I added 1000 words to the short I'm working on for Queered Fiction's gothic anthology. I've no idea if it's gothic enough, but it has a ghost and an all-girl boarding school and a chapel that was destroyed by fire in the 18th century, so... Another 1000 words or so should wrap up the first draft. And I spent a lot of time thinking about a shapeshifter novel that's been swimming around my head for the past week or so. I'd like to start working on it, if I wasn't already working on two other novels and if I wasn't planning to redraft Wild. What I really need is a sabbatical from work so I can put some real hours into all these projects.

Hmm, probably not about to happen. In the mean time, I have Friday 13th part 8 playing too loudly, so all is well.

ETA: Damn, apparently Victorian girls didn't go to boarding school. Why can't history just bend itself to my will?

I hope this is isn't stalkerish, but I just woke up from a dream where we were discussing business strategies for marketing books on the bus. It turns out that we hold a lot of common views, including the idea that writing "BUY MY NEW BOOK" in the condensation on the bus window is a great way to attract attention.

I'm pretty sure there was also a mummy in the dream, but I don't think that was actually anything to do with you. I don't know if there are any deep or hidden messages here, or if you've developed a technique for advertising directly into people's subconscious? (If so, I salute you!) Anyway, the upshot is that I just went to Amazon to preorder Deader Still (I know, I can't believe it's not out in the UK yet either!). So, you know, your cunning business strategy succeeded. I am in fact buying your book.

Thanks,
Naomi

I'd pay a lot of money to see that. I really would. Especially if they threw in a helicopter.

It's true. In the winter I get SAD and spent all of November through to March feeling neurotic and angst-ridden. Then from April to October I get terrible hayfever and spend my days lurking around in dark glasses, feverishly downing packets of allergy tablets and avoiding the outdoors (a side effect of this is that I can't mow the lawn, which means my garden turns into a savage wilderness where frogs and bluetits battle for supremacy).

Anyway, I had to go the asthma clinic on Tuesday and got bollocked by the nurse for "not taking my condition seriously enough." She gave me all these lectures about how my allergies meant I COULD DIE if I had an asthma attack!!! I told her I'd never had an asthma attack, so then she gave me a lecture about suffering in silence and how I should be at the asthma clinic twice a year, dammit, etc. Then she told me to make an appointment with my GP to get a stronger prescription for my allergies. So it's back to the doctor today to pick up whatever drugs and nasal sprays they throw at me.

I can't help but feel the solution is to move to the Artic Circle. Sunlight pretty much all year round, and not much in the way of pollen.



I know it doesn't look like much, but I could be happy here, right?

I've just about recovered from seeing Matt Berry on Wednesday. Other things achieved this weekend (in no particular order):

1. Posted the full manuscript of Death for the Born to the agent.
2. Found Pip a man.
3. Got incredibly drunk on cocktails (one Polish Bullet, one Russian Bride, two Strawberry Woo Woos, one Electric Lemonade and three different flavoured vodka shots for those keeping track).
4. Went on an expletive-filled rant against Stephen Hawking in the taxi home after said cocktails. The taxi driver found me hysterical, but probably quite scary.
5. Got amazing birthday presents from Pip and j_rah , Rupert, and Kizzy.

Things not achieved:

1. Finding myself a man (here's to next weekend and the Four Man Plan!)
2. Spring-cleaned the house (here's to next weekend and a packet of Flash Wipes!)

That deserves more exclamation marks!!!!

So it was my birthday yesterday (thanks to everyone who sent a card/wished me well/texted me at midnight to inform me I was now 26, Becky). I had a fabulous day - got loads of book tokens, which are now all spent. I worked out that even if I read a book a week for the next year, I still won't have cleared my TBR pile. But it is a thing of beauty and I love it nonetheless. Once the tokens were dealt with, chaostheory and I hit the Revolution bar for pizza and cocktails. Nothing says "you're in your late twenties now" like pizza and cocktails.

Then in the evening I went into London with chaostheory  and rjpayne  to see Matt Berry at the Scala. Can I just say, Matt Berry is a legend! I love him. Really, with a painful, stalkative burning type love. The opening act were ... okay. They were called Pocket Lips, and appeared to be some kind of Cockney rap outfit. Lots of jumping around and strobe lighting, but that was it.

While we were waiting for Matt Berry to come on, a guy behind us asked me and chaostheory  what he was going to be doing, since he (the guy) had only come for the support act. We replied that we mostly knew Matt Berry (can't just call him Matt, it isn't right!) as an actor, so we weren't sure what kind of music he'd be performing. The guy then asked us why we'd paid to see an act we knew nothing about, even though by his own admission he'd done the same thing, and that was weird, so we dismissed him to continue discussing chaostheory's plans to incite an orderly riot should Matt Berry fail to show up on time.

But he did! And his band were dressed as peasants! And he introduced them as peasants! *luff* But the best, THE BEST part of the whole night is that he sang "One Track Lover" and I got eye contact during the song. I can now die happy. What a man.

You're not a mockney tosser with stupid recipes. You're a mockney tosser with awesome recipes! Look what I'm eating right now:




I know! I made it myself too. French toast with blueberries and greek yogurt. (The recipe called for creme fraich, but really, WTF, Jamie?)

And this is the bee that fell out of my jeans this morning when I took them out of my drawer:



He is unreasonably large and buzzy and I did not expect to find him in my jeans.

And while all this excitement has been going on, I've managed to add just over 1k to Catching Fire. Nowhere near as much as I'd like, but I have to keep stopping for rest breaks and stretches, which is holding me back a bit. I'm aiming for another 1k today before Pip and I head out for an Easter drink. Grey Goose is a traditional Easter beverage, right?

5302 / 80000 words. 7% done!

Anyone who knows me well knows I'm obsessed with urban legends. The modern fairytale! The cultural meme! The terrible series of slasher flicks!

And now...The Quiz, as provided by MSN.

Just for the record, I got 10/10.

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.