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Showing posts from November, 2010

Statistically speaking

I've just discovered Blogger Stats on the design page, and had to stop writing (no really I DID) to have a good rummage around.

Quite illuminating - if you've nothing better to do. It tells you which of your posts has been looked at the most during a day, week, month or of all time and rather surprisingly my most popular post isn't about writing or anything remotely profound - not that I've written anything remotely profound.

It's this one called Turkey Fatigue, which has been viewed 3628 times to date, and is being viewed by 48 people at this very minute.

The magical Blogger Stats informs me that all these visits have been referred by people searching for turkey cartoons. But why? To my knowledge turkey is only ever relevant at Christmas and Thanksgiving - not on the 3rd of June. It makes no sense.

Second most popular post - understandably - is Cally Taylor and her Writing Highlights with 682 page views. Quite a lot less than the turkey I think you'll agree. I h…

NaNO

This month I decided I'd 'secretly' take part in NaNoWriMo as a way of motivating myself to get the first draft of novel 2 finished. Boy am I glad I didn't make a song and dance about it on the blog, as I've done naff all. Well, a few thousand words, but not the 20,000 or so that would be required by now.

It's weird, because external deadlines I'm brilliant with - I'll stay up all night writing if I have to and get the work finished on time, but when I set my own it hardly ever works. This is when RT (Resistant Teenager) takes over.

The second I woke up on November 1st she said, in sulky tones, "Sorry but I can't, like, do much writing today, like, 'cos I've got, like, other stuff to do and that. Innit."

One of them involved forcing me to bake a cake in the microwave (no, the kitchen still isn't finished). It wasn't a success. Ever tried eating a rubber chicken? My maths isn't good but I know I could have written…

Ooh I Say!

I’ve a short story in this week’s Woman’s Weekly called Private Dancer which is, ahem, a little … saucier than my usual fare. I’m not talking full on raunch, because as I’ve mentioned on here before I’m absolutely no good at s-e-x scenes – plus I wouldn’t want the readers to choking on their coffee and going all unnecessary.

I’d challenged myself to rustle up a story that was, shall we say, hot-blooded but subtle, as I’d never tried it before, and I must have done something right as the editor said she liked it - a lot.

It was fun actually, and it felt good to write something outside my comfort zone. I won’t be taking it any further than that though – my blood pressure couldn’t cope.

My daughter steeled herself to read it, saying she hoped it wasn’t ‘pornographic’. I reassured her that I'd never had an impure thought in my life, but even so she could barely look me in the eye afterwards. “It’s good Mum, but it’s weird that you wrote it,” she said sidling past, and went to wash her h…