erastes: (Default)

I have this account set up, and I've added it to my Live Writer client, so I'll crosspost to my Livejournal and my blog (that gets picked up by various other places). I don't know if i have the energy to seek out all my friends here, so I just hope they find me, so I can friend back immediately.

News: I has some.

but the reviewer was absolutely blown away by the book. I made her cry more than once, and this pleased me muchly. If I can touch people in that way, then I'm doing something right.

One of the very best books I’ve ever read in my life. Staggeringly brilliant on so many levels, it suited me more than perfectly. I adored it. I can’t really say much more than that without the knot of emotions I thought I’d buried when I finished the book slamming back. I don’t think I can handle their return at the moment. Buy it and love it—but be prepared to be dragged through a gamut of emotions. Tissues nearby would be good.

Strong praise! Thank you, Miz Love.

What else? My report on the GLBT UK MEET Is posted and is here in case you missed it. (Link goes to my blog, not Livejournal) Plans are already afoot for next year (which will have to be earlier, or later due to the Olympics – so I'll update you with news on that when we have it.

Oh and finally – This is the kind of noise pollution I have to put up with. It's lucky the Snucius are entirely silent, but they probably think she does the talking for all of them. She'd just been fed, it's not cold, so I have NO CLUE what she wanted here, but she does this all the time!

video is HERE
erastes: (trumpets)

Icon is from this advert, which I absolutely love. All their adverts are beautifully surreal.

Writing: It really helps having a "running mate" - I'm lucky that I have several writerly friends who are kind enough read my stuff as I write it, and they write as well, making it a symbiotic kind of thing.  Having someone like [ profile] gehayi or [ profile] rwday to use as a sounding board is hugely helpful.  I've been spurred on recently by [ profile] the_sea_to who is writing a 15th century Italian gay novel and her determination and daily word count (often huge) and the encouragement (read: POKING) she gives me by IM is incredibly motivating.  I just seem to find that if I have someone who is also writing at the same time I get more motivated to write myself.  What I find DE-motivating (and this is by no means a plea to have you guys stop doing this, because I think it's wonderful that you are writing) is to see everyone marching ahead with their word counts when I'm still floundering in the "not doing very much or anything at all" mode.  I've done 1000 words for the last few days which I'm very grateful for, and the book has got to that lovely stage where I'm enjoying writing it.  The characters are coming to life, or I hope so, at least! [ profile] rwday has been reading it as I go and she said "omg - it's creepy that his shoes are missing."  and I had to laugh - his shoes were only supposed to be missing for a scene, his valet was cleaning them. However it's funny she saw more into it. So yay for being poked.

Lili has gone out AGAIN.  Now that's really weird.  I mean--that cat simply doesn't go out. Hasn't gone out at ALL since Pixel died, and she's such a heat-hog she welds herself to the radiator all day. Going out is just...aberrant behaviour.  It's not sunny, it's not warm.  It's just.. odd!  But then she is an odd little cat.

Four new submission calls on [ profile] erotic_authors today.

erastes: (fizzgig)
Terrible night. 9pm came, 10pm came and went. The rain was coming down in sheets and Lili (my pink and white nemesis) had not returned.

She hates the rain, and I went out every half hour or so and called her. She always comes. Always! She's never been out all night. I thought: Oh she's sheltering somewhere. But really I was thinking. OMG SOMETHINGS HAPPENED TO HER. I went to bed, still worrying, knowing I couldn't sleep.

11pm came - midnight came, 1am came. I read, I made tea. I went out and called. Nothing. And by now in worst case scenario mode. I was crying, and planning the posters I would print at work the next day, gnashing my teeth that I didn't have even one photo of her, and worrying about vivisectionists.

Eventually I fell asleep. The rain had not stopped. I woke up at 4.30 and went to the loo. And I swear - it was like that scene in Peter Pan where Mrs Darling thinks she sees the children and they are really there but she doesn't believe it. I look across the hall where her night-time chair is and I thought I could see her and I sniffed dramatically, thinking I'd never see her again.

But of course she was actually there. The Monster. She was very pleased to be cuddled by a madly over-loving mummy at 430. She thought it was lovely.

When she had come in, and why she had not come in with her normal trumpets blaring and where she had been and why she was dry as a bone, I do not know. Maybe she wasn't out at all, but upstairs all the bloody time, even though I'd seen her go out.

Cats eh?


erastes: (Default)

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