Finally, the end of editing is in sight. Completing my rewrites before I went away didn’t work – I had two scenes left and although they were perfectly formed in my head they never got onto paper. They travelled all the way to my parents with me, and all the way back, but no writing got done. Which was actually a good thing. Instead, I managed to read a whole book and I am so glad I did.
The week at my parents was pretty chilled but I didn’t relax as much as I’d like (let’s put it this way: I saw a postcard the other day that listed all the things family members do on holiday and what it said for mothers was basically ‘everything they do at home’ which is pretty much true. There was a lot of running around after Harry, but I was able to take the backseat more than usual – Dad took him swimming, and Mum and Granny were also around to play in the garden with him, do jigsaws, play with Duplo, etc. And the whole helping with cooking and making bread, etc? Well, I cannot spend a week away and not cook. It doesn’t feel right.) During the week we had trips to the garden centre, a lovely walk on Dunwich Heath, breakfast at Whittlingham arranged by my brother’s girlfriend (smoked salmon and cream cheese bagels! Surprised she didn’t include any champagne…) followed by a brief visit to Norwich as I needed a trip to Lush and Granny needed a new suitcase, then a BBQ at friends to celebrate the birth of the new Prince… well, its any excuse for a party in my family, especially if it means bringing out the bunting and the Pimms.
Back home, it has been a productive week – I worked Tuesday (doing the usual ‘sorting out everyone’s mess’ that you get after a week away), then have had two days off during which I have ticked off a lot of my ‘to do’ list AND rewrote those two scenes AND read through my whole book! Excited much? I certainly am. It feels sooooooo good. And I am happy with it, particularly happy with my rewrites because there was little I had to change with those either. I have a list of 7 things left to do, most pretty minor like the odd sentence, but still not happy with chapter 8 and the last four chapters the flow needs improving but I think this can be done with a little bit of shifting and moving some of it into a new chapter. Plan is to have it all sorted by tomorrow, but by the end of the weekend AT THE LATEST. I am so close! Then, it is to my sister and James to read while I crack on with my synopsis, etc.
So, in between the read through (which has made me so tired; I went to bed at 8.30 last night and was asleep by 9!) I have been sorting out our bedroom. It has been THE dumping ground since we moved in a year ago but it is looking so much better now. I bought another underbed box (the boxes are actually stacked under the window with a throw over as our bed has drawers in), moved Harry’s books to his room, put the photo albums where his books were, then filled the four (or was it 5?) boxes that contained photo albums with James magazines, correspondence, uni work and all sorts. Everything has been rearranged, including the furniture. Because I am one of those people that has to rearrange the furniture every now and then. Sometimes I move it straight back to how it was, but this was one of those occasions where I look at what I did and think ‘why didn’t we put it like that to begin with, it makes so much sense!’
Anyway, there was a reason for talking about sorting the bedroom. When Dad brought me and Harry home we loaded the car with the last of my boxes that had been cluttering the attic (I saw last, there are still a few of Harry’s baby bits up there, but this was the last of the stuff left when I moved out). Dad had fun putting it all in the car and then had to rearrange it all again when I came back from Rachael’s with another box of books. (Rachael is their next-door neighbour and she is moving to Dubai for two years so is clearing out her house. She said I could come over and take some of her books, though what actually happened was I went over, she got a box and started loading it up for me – she gave me about 30 books!) Getting home, I start looking through these boxes, which include mainly books. These have not been unpacked but rather joined the three other boxes of books still waiting for bookcase space. One box however contained what can only be referred to as memories.
This was the box I really wanted. I was looking for something specific, but naturally I could not find it. I sorted things out over the years since leaving home and I think I must have got rid of it. Not that it matters, it had served its purpose, but it would have been nice to have kept if I’d known at the time (said item was a ‘book’ I made when I was a kid which was actually my inspiration for the book I am now almost finished writing…). Anyway, what was in this box were school memories, including a rather fantastic ‘Year 8 Leaver’s Newspaper’, all my RS essays, a personal statement written by my Maths teacher, and – the best one – the stuff I wrote for my Girl Guide’s Writers badge! Now, this was the only badge I ever managed to complete all the levels for (my sash was also within the box), which I guess says something about my enthusiasm for writing over anything else. There used to be a time when I would cringe when reading over what I used to write, but not anymore. It fascinates me now, and takes me back to how I was then. I read my writing and I realise how naïve I was. My writing was very sensationalised but I obviously wrote a lot about what I knew – one short story was about two sisters, one who wanted to be a writer and one who wanted to be a dancer; another story was about a girl who joined the hockey team because they were short on players (which I did) and became the star (which I didn’t and was never likely to do – sport was never my forte but it was another notch on my list of extra-curricular activities). There was only one story, a ghost story, that went deeper and touched more on what my writing has since become.
Anyway, I will call it a day as my computer is threatening to crash on me (low on memory? of course it is after all the CDs I ‘borrowed’ off my Dad and the 1132 photos I downloaded from my Mum’s camera by mistake). WordPress has even asked me to log in again. It’s never asked me to do that before! 😀