Ahhh I’m enjoying this half-term so far. Been to Stourhead with friends (stunning), spent lots of time in our sunny garden digging up old weeds and putting in new plants, read two books (Slummy Mummy – hilarious; The Accidental Mother – fabulous), and yesterday went to the BBC in Bristol as one of the judges of their RaW writing competition which was very enjoyable and interesting. One of my co-judges was a lovely librarian and I found myself rashly agreeing to some author events in Bristol. Eek. Me and my big mouth.
What else? Ahh yes. My three-year-old appears to be having an identity crisis. “Call me Eloise,” she insists grandly. “Not Holly any more. I am Eloise.” All very melodramatic in the way that only a three-year-old can get away with. I remember my son going through this when he was two, ‘helped’ by his big sister who’d dress him up in her clothes and put hair-clips in his short tufts of hair. “Call me Mabel,” he’d say, clopping down the stairs in her pink shoes. It was the campest thing you’ve ever seen, bless him.
I’ve had a slight setback on the writing front. Remember that new children’s series proposal I was all excited about? Well, it was the acquisitions meeting last week (where publishers/sales and marketing directors decide whether to give the yay or nay to possible new projects) and mine didn’t exactly get an outright ‘nay’ but didn’t get an immediate ‘yay’ either. Apparently it needs tweaking which is a bit of a blow, although I’m not sure quite how much tweaking is to be done, I haven’t spoken to my editor yet. Obviously being as melodramatic as Holly – I mean, Eloise – I was plunged into ‘I’m a failure’ feelings about this when I heard last night, but have pulled myself together this morning. H-t-b has taken the kids to his mum’s for the day and I’m going to write something new and brilliant today that will wow every acquisition meeting in the land. Well. That’s my little daydream anyway. I can but try….