Talk talk

I did a marathon library-working session on Friday - four hours in my usual branch followed by five hours in a smaller one, and it struck me afterwards how different the staff conversations were in each.

In library A there're a lot of us - ages ranging from twenty-two upwards (I'm the twenty-two year old in case you were wondering.) A couple of sample conversations from Friday:

1) "If we still lived in Victorian times, I wonder what we'd all be doing?"

"You'd have several children by now."

"I'd have died in childbirth."

"We'd be upper-class, so I wouldn't be working. I'd have servants."

"I'm going to marry a rich man."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

2) "I've got this great recipe - melt a 400g chocolate bar, put it in a baking tin crumble four chocolate digestives in, no more than four or it goes wrong, add two bags of white chocolate buttons and two bags of maltesers - or you could make it healthier with nuts and cherries but I perfer chocolate - and leave it in the fridge to cool. It's gorgeous, I could live on it. I've got another one as well...."

"I'm having a heart attack just listening. But, go on."

In Library B, there were just the two of us - ladies of a similar age (twenty-two obviously) :

1) "Ooh, that's a nice cardi!"

"Oh thanks! M&S. They're good aren't they?"

"I don't know. I tried some jumpers on recently, but the sizing's all wrong."

"There's home-made cake by the way, so help yourself when you go down for your tea-break.

"Ooh, lovely!"

2) "Can't believe the clocks go back tomorrow."

"I know. It'll soon be Christmas."

"I'm just popping down to make some tea."

"Why don't you bring the cake back up with you?"

I enjoy working in both branches for different reasons, but did you, per-chance, spot the common thread running through both conversations??? And it's by no means unusual. (What do you mean NO?)

I wonder what men talk about at work?

Lovely Booky-book

I received my copy of Della Galton's How to Write and Sell Short Stories in the post today. I was very excited. I love new books. Especially ones containing Knowledge.

Actually, I was lucky enough to sell another story to Take a Break this week, so at first I shouted, "Pah! Advice? Moi? What was I THINKing?. Ay'm a fully- fledged short story writer now, donchya know? Children! Peel me some more grapes!" (As if)

Then I got over myself, and had a flip through. I'll sit down and read it properly over the weekend, but I can see already that it's jam-packed with tips, wisdom, advice and inspiration from one of the most prolific short story writers in the UK, and is a great tool to have in your writing belt (ooh, hark at me. Haven't a clue what I'm on about.) Highly recommended.

More importantly, it looks pretty. And SMELLS great! Does anyone else sniff new books like an addict? No?

O-kay. Neither do I...

And the award goes to...

...ME! (and lots of other people.) Thank you lovely Debs in your cosy shed.

I was going to post something meaningful about the novel that won the Man Booker Prize and ask if anyone had read it/was planning to read it, or mention the fact that it's Blog Action Day (the subject this year is Poverty) but it's been covered beautifully on several other blogs, so I figured...I know. I'll talk about me. Don't all fall asleep at once.

The rules of the award state that the following questions must be answered in one word (they don't all have to be true do they?)

1. Where is your cell phone? Heaven
2. Where is your significant other? Wardrobe
3. Your hair color? Forgotten

4. Your mother? Camilla

5. Your father? Charles
6. Your favorite thing? Cake

7. Your dream last night? Incomprehensible

8. Your dream/goal? Immortality

9. The room you're in? Hot

10. Your hobby? Taxidermy

11. Your fear? Incontinence

12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Outside
13. Where were you last night? Stringfellows

14. What you're not? Manly
15. One of your wish-list items? Clothes-horse
16. Where you grew up? Scarborough
17. The last thing you did? Breakdance
18. What are you wearing? Stilts

19. Your TV? Beloved

20. Your pets? Damp

21. Your computer? Busy

22. Your mood? Mischievous

23. Missing someone? Non

24. Your car? Filthy

25. Something you're not wearing? Spandex

26. Favorite store? Staples

27. Your summer? Sorry?

28. Love someone? Oui

29. Your favorite color? Strawberries

30. When is the last time you laughed? 1974

31. Last time you cried? 7.44am

Now the hard bit - I have to pass this on to (only) 5 other bloggers, who haven't already been tagged. I choose:-

Ernest - because he'll hate it (I do love your blog though)

Fionnuala - a fellow Lost-lover and talented flasher

Spiralskies - she makes me laff

Lily - 'cos she's lovely

Womagwriter - for having all the answers (well, most of them)

Tom Foolery - she's good with words AND pictures

I love you all though.

Outraged of Tunbridge Wells

Occasionally a library book will upset a customer due to its, ahem...content. I remember an elderly woman shouting about unnecessary references to the male member in what she'd assumed was a harmless story about horses. She thought it should be removed in case it fell into the wrong hands (the book not the male member, for heaven's sake.)

Of course we're not there to make judgements about the stories on them there shelves, but common sense prevails. We're not allowed to stock men's magazines like Zoo and Nuts due to the proliferation of brazen hussies lolling on the covers in frosted lipstick (and not much else), and ex Big Brother contestants talking about getting mobbed in nightclubs and having boob jobs - which is fair enough. But we can hardly go through all the books, scribbling out rude words.

Once, someone kindly stuck a Post-it note inside a book, pointing out various uses of the F-word and which passages to avoid, which was quite thoughtful. Customers have ripped out pages they've found repellent before now, which isn't so good. Especially for the reader left wondering what happened and whether they're going to get blamed.

Today's offender was Crown Jewels in the Sun by Nora Roberts. On pages 104 and 105 someone had written in pen, "for gods sake", "kick him in the balls" and "ugh!!" as the heroine was taken masterfully by the rather overbearing hero. We couldn't work out if the reader was a feminist horrified by such boorish behaviour, or someone who prefers decent writing. (Mee-OW!)

Or an ex-editor perhaps....

Anyway, the writing style rather reminded me of the Mills and Boons I used to devour as a teenager, when men were forever "thrusting their manhood" at a lady's "sex."

I don't know how I survived in the real world.

Who am I?

Looking back over my WIP, which I haven't done for a while (I've had to wean myself off editing constantly as I tend to get stuck) I was struck by how influenced I seem to be by what I'm reading at the time - and I do read a lot.

My first few chapters reflect the humourous women's fiction I was reading at the time, then I got hold of a couple of psychological thrillers and the style gets darker. After reading a memoir recently I realised I was writing shorter sentences and being all poetic. Literary novels make me lyrical and magazine stories more pithy (love that word).

It's quite confusing and made me think that I should probably stop reading while I'm writing altogether (D'ur!) Maybe I could harness the various influences in a constructive way, but at the moment I'm danger of smothering myself, as it were.

I seem to have lost my Voice.

NOT a librarian

I got told off for referring to myself at work as a Librarian. Apparently I'm a Library Assistant or I Work In A Library. I am NOT a librarian. Librarians have to have a master's degree in Library Information Science or something, which I definitely do not have, so by calling myself a Librarian I'm Failing to Recognise Achievement.

Blimey.

I have worked there for almost nine years though. If Lorraine Kelly can be awarded an honorary doctorate from Dundee University for her services to charity surely I can be awarded an Honorary Librarianship for services to oldies demanding bus timetables and James Patterson novels?

In the spirit of things, I was looking for a suitable photo to go with this post and stumbled upon the following...

What the hell?

If we carried on like this in our branch, we'd be called something else entirely.

Wife in the North

I'm probably a bit late to the party on this one, but I read Judith O' Reilly's wonderful memoir at the weekend and decided to recommend it for my newspaper column this week. Looking for an image of the book cover, I stumbled across her blog and this post and was surprised by how mean some people can be - to the point that she felt the need to respond to her detractors in this way.

What is wrong with them?? Have they even read her book? What stood out for me was the quality of her writing - almost poetic at times. It's billed as 'hilarious' - which it is in parts - but it's much more than that and I'd urge anyone who hasn't already, to give it a whirl.

I wonder if it's envy because she got her book deal in record time?

On that note, I started wondering if any publishers might be interested in a blog about a demented library assistant wielding books by day and words by night, while eating her own body weight in golden-syrup sandwiches?

Non? What about, a mother-of-three driven to the edge (of her chair) juggling thirteen different novel ideas with the varying demands of her family and dog, while keeping her grey hairs at bay?

God, I lead a boring life. But surely as a so-called writer I could at least make it sound interesting....

Lightbulb moment

Had one of those illuminating moments while reading this article by Robert Harris on the Guardian website. (I don't spend all day reading that pesky website by the way. Honest.) Over the years he's been given advice that's really helped him, and I must say there were a few tips there that helped me see my WIP in a different way.

The first tip he was given is that you should always know how your novel is going to end. A novel "recounts something that has already happened; therefore you cannot just make it up as you go along." The advice helped him finish his first novel, Fatherland.

Sounds blummin' obvious when you think about it, but it really helped clarify something for me.

The second tip was that "the shape and style of a novel is determined by the thought you give it beforehand: that the way you approach your material is at least as important, maybe more important, than the material itself and that this process of settling on an angle of attack may take months, even years of frustration and false starts, during which many writers - and certainly most writers' families and friends - believe the author may be going slightly mad."

Well that certainly rings true. Especially the months and years bit. Oh, and the slightly mad part.

Thirdly, "you develop a tolerance for your own crudeness. And patience with your own crap. Belief in your crap, which is just 'stay with your crap and it will get better. Come back every day and keep going'."

Or, it might just stay crap...

Sound advice methinks. Although much better advice would be "stay away from the Guardian website Clarkey, and get on with it."

What's your story?

I love this idea, pinched from the Guardian website of arranging some of your book titles so that they tell a story. Like I need any more distractions. However after much over-excited fannying around I managed to come up with the the rather badly photographed ...













Not rocket science, I think you'll agree, but fun nonetheless. Of course it depends what's lurking on them there bookshelves, but I'd love to see what you lovely lot can come up with.

Ask a silly question

I've just noticed that lovely Lane has beaten me to this topic (great minds think alike etc) so I changed my template in a fury. Not really. More as a distraction. I couldn't think of anything else to blog about you see. My mind isn't that great.

Anyhoo, I had a look at my stats today (as you do) and under Keyword Analysis noticed that the following Google searches had led people to my blog...

what is putty face in plastic surgery gone wrong ??

sun hat hip hurray youtube ???

karen clarke writing - well, that makes sense

grime name generator - hmm, don't know about that, but my mafia name is Stella the Assassin. Apparently

colin firth - That makes sense too

grannies wearing slips - What the...?

where to buy bloater paste - Pur-leeze. I feel sick.

brande roderik - Well. She looks no better than she ought to be. Appeared in a film called 'Bunny Whipped.' Need I say more?

i was born under a wandering star lines - I wasn't born, my grandma knitted me. So there.

I sincerely hope they all found what they were looking for.

Who wants to be a millionaire...?

..."I do!"

Here's a hypothetical (and rather attractive question). If you were to inherit one million pounds, which was dependent on you spending it within 48 hours, what would you do?

Sadly, this hasn't happened to me. Do you think I'd be blogging about it if it had? Actually you're right, I would.

It might be happening to one of my characters though, and I'd love your input. Theme: can money buy you happiness? money vs. meaning, can you buy meaning? etc. Apparently, making big decisions in a short space of time clarifies who you are. I'd love to have such a dilemma, but suspect it would be more difficult than it sounds.

In my mind, I can't get further than rampaging round Waterstones, having liposuction, buying Colin Firth, paying off mortgages and opening my own petrol station (20p a litre).

Could it be done??

I'm hooked

This is SO addictive. It came via Caroline Smailes, whose new novel Black Books is out today (looking forward to reading it) and it's a genius idea for those of us who like our procrastination simply packaged.

It's taken me to blogs I would never have discovered, and for that reason alone I could do without it, frankly. I'm up to my neck in lovely blogs already. I don't need any more, for heavens' sake. Plus, I keep running back to the PC with random choices (Fish or Chips. There's another one.)

Give it a go, you'll see what I mean.

Dreamz 'r us

I had a very vivid dream last night. I bumped into Calistro in a school corridor. She was clutching a batch of bright pink folders and I said to her, "You don't know me, but I'm from the blog and my name's Karen." (Karen from the blog. Jenny from the block. No, doesn't quite work.) Anyway, she shook my hand politely and said, "the Novel Racers are around somewhere if you want to go and say hello," pointing down a corridor. Excited, I set off at a fair old lick, flinging open doors and peering into classrooms (why classrooms??) but could I find them? Could I heck.

What does it all mean? a) I'm a nut-job b) I should lay off the peanuts at bedtime c) Calistro's recent good news, along with my own increased writing output is starting to affect my remaining brain cell.

Answers on the back of a postage stamp please.

In spite of such nonsense, I've been awarded these teacups by lovely Debs who hangs about in a shed all day, but is quite normal (I think), so thanks for that, Debs. I never say no to a decent cuppa - or even an indecent one - although I don't do whole milk. Has to be skimmed, semi-skimmed if there's no other option. Apart from that I'm not at all fussy.

I'm going to pass it on to Fionnuala for making me chuckle (love that word) and reminding me that Strictly Come Dancing is back on our screens v. soon, Helen with best wishes to Smudge x and L-plate for posting one of the oddest photos I've seen in a long time, and getting back on the horse writing wise, recently.