rowan tree blossom

Writer at Work
My apologies, to those who wondered what happened to May. It went with a bang as my computer blew up most dramatically. I do back up most things but it was still hell to try and put together a new computer to work as I prefer and to include all my internet stuff. Why do I always lose the email lists? I have linked up this, my own website, but cannot find the Writer’s Choice website stuff as yet.

My new computer is a business model meant to have tons more memory, be superior in quality, and be a lot tougher than my old one. Alas I have to struggle to work with Microsoft Word 10. I hate Microsoft Word. It comes with all these fancy styles to use but not one is a standard publishing format with double spacing, indents, and a sensible font. The default font on Word 10 is calibri! I ask you and it’s 11 point. Hard to read. Who the hell uses that? I have struggled to set a new style in the Standard publishing format. It holds for a couple of days then rushes home to Calibri, single space, no indents and stupid gaps between paragraphs. I’ve been sending stuff off to my editors with apologies for the formatting mix up.

Thrilling Stories, a new market, have bought two of my Mediaeval Japan stories and welcome more. The editor has rejected the third with some sensible suggestions. My fault for cutting it too much for them. ‘You’ve cut the heart out of it,’ he said. Quite right too but with the computer to pay for I am grateful for a market which pays promptly and seems to be a good one for readers too. The editor’s got a great illustration for the stories. The site is still new but there is some interesting reading going up.

Guess what? Our vicar is at it again. She’s banned me from the choir again. Alas as she’d have to physically remove me I ignore her and sing as usual. She has one nasty little pal in the choir who will try to make life nasty for me. The other members either ignore it or fall into sneaking and try to pick up things I’m doing to report to the vicar in a babyish type of sneaking so they can stitch together another slander. Revolting isn’t it? Still I am getting a nice little bunch of humorous short fiction/faction pieces from their behaviour to go out to market. And the poor old bishop is getting a raft of formal complaints from me and others. The sad thing is that the stupid woman could have made a lot of her changes if only she had been a socially adept, tolerant and gentle person with good social skills. When two thirds of the parish are ignored, treated rudely and badly how can the fool expect anything but problems.

The novel is growing so slowly. Mid point blues, at 60 000+ words make me longing to drop it and start the new one, or write another short story. Hard to beat it with the emotional drain of this struggle with vicar who needs defrocking – if that’s what they do these days. Oh for a real Anglican vicar.

Oh for a housekeeper, a secretary, and 48 hours a day.

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