We are just about to enter that awful stage in house-selling known as Trying-to-keep-your-house-tidy-at-all-times-in-case-of-surprise-viewings.
Bugger. It was bad enough last time we moved with just one small child's toys to shove into a cupboard at the drop of a hat. But now we've got three times as many children and toys and... God. I feel knackered just at the thought. Their very presence in the house is enough to throw things into turmoil. Ie this morning, somehow, youngest found time to empty all the Polly Pocket things on the floor before she was whisked away to nursery. Somehow, son found time to do some drawing, leaving pens and paper (and felt-tip marks) all over the coffee table. Somehow, eldest has managed to abandon half her wardrobe, sans hangers, on the floor, even though she only had to choose her school uniform to put on.
Where do you even begin?
Well, I haven't begun today, not on the tidying front anyway. Wednesday mornings are precious all-kids-out time so must get on with writing and get round to tidying when youngest is having a nap this afternoon. OH, this is going to be such fun, I just know it.
Retreating hurriedly to nice-book-world and shutting the door on all the mess... I printed out, read through and tweaked the first hundred pages of Novel 3 yesterday afternoon/evening. I've now sent them off to my agent for some feedback. Gulp. I'm already wishing I'd changed the ending of chapter 5, but too late for that now. Unfortunately I've made the mistake of reading something absolutely BRILLIANT by one of my agent's other authors at the same time - The Raw Shark Texts by Steven Hall which is just mindblowing. I am gripped, intrigued, totally hooked...and now feeling totally inadequate in comparison. This is exactly the trap I fell into last year when I sent off some of Novel 2. I started reading The Optimists by Andrew Miller, another of my agent's authors, and was spun into a we-are-not-worthy panic of inferiority.
BUT, to paraphrase (or misquote) Helen Dunmore, "we authors have to plough our own furrow". And my furrow seems to be domestic dramas with lots of sex and (hopefully) laughs, rather than anything very mindblowing or highbrow. So that's okay then...
Anyway, on with chapter 6...
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