Tagged by Lane

Total number of books... I have no idea, but hundreds. When we moved to Bangkok we boxed up most of our books and put them in the attic in our house in Buckinghamshire. I brought a lot of my art books and reference books that I knew I couldn’t live without, aswell as my ‘how to’ books. And I brought my TBR pile: some of these are long term and may never make it but if I hadn’t read it yet, it came with me. Interestingly, there were certain fiction books that though I had read – even several times – and so had made it into the attic boxes, I got to Bangkok and realised that I needed them again. Bill Bryson comes to mind and someone who I shall mention below.

Last book read... I’m embarrassed to admit that it’s Patpong Sisters by Cleo Odzer, which I read for Book Club which is next Tuesday. It’s supposed to be an anthropological study of Patpong – one of the red light areas in Bangkok. It was an eyeopener! But not well written, and I didn’t think it was a very academic piece of work.

Last book bought... Oh bugger, I have to admit, more ‘how to’ books. I’ve just ordered Writing Fiction: A Guide to Narrative Craft by Janet Burroway and From Where you Dream: The Process of Writing Fiction by Robert Olen Butler from Amazon. I think I might just go and see if there are any Pat Barker books in the secondhand bookshop! See below for why.

5 Meaningful books... I shall take this to mean meaningful in my own idiosyncratic way (which basically means cheating).

One of the series of books that I had to go out and buy again in Bangkok was the James Herriot series of All Creatures Great and Small etc. I am so ashamed, but I love them, dearly. They are among very few books that make me laugh out loud. They are comfort stories for me. (At least it’s proof positive that I’m not being a pretentious git in the meme!)

I loved and have reread Testament of Youth, Testament of Experience, and Chronicle of Youth by Vera Brittain. I originally studied Testament of Youth at school. It’s a historical period that I love – I went on to read Robert Graves, Siegfried Sassoon and other writers that covered that period. I haven’t read any Pat Barker which is a dreadful confession! I shall go and buy some today!

Fingersmith by Sarah Waters because I have never clapped my hand over my mouth and said outloud ‘Oh my God’ while reading any book before.

Mary Wesley was influential in my habits as a reader. The Camomile Lawn is one I’ve read several times. I should probably reread her now as I think she will mean more to me now that I’m older.

It’s a struggle to single out another book or author, but I should probably mention Enid Blyton. My parents loathed her, but I loved Malory Towers, the Twins at St Clares, The Famous Five and The Secret Seven. I read and reread them all over and over. I’d probably enjoy them now!

And I tag Helen, Lisa, Caroline, Cally and Jen.

Woo hoo

Well, I just couldn't wait to get over here again.

Starbucks (a different one in a different Mall - Siam Paragon this time) has sprinkled the writing fairy dust on me again. HURRAH.

My grand total is 21,389 words. I can't tell you how chuffed I am with myself. That's 3,163 words since I last did a word count.

So I'm developing a new theory: that I have to leave the apartment, and sit in a different Starbucks in order to write? Maybe? I certainly can't seem to write at home: I go and lie on my bed to read and then I fall asleep. (I do so love to sleep).

I have just arranged to sublet a little room near Andrew Computer (who teaches me website) to see if I can go and write there. I know this seems an extragavance but it is very, very cheap and only on a month's trial. I'm hoping that this means I eat fewer Starbucks chocolate brownies and write lots...

Bras not Bottoms

The Smoochie Smoochie party was lovely. I purchased a bra in ‘slut’s red’ or that’s what I called it last night, but today I noticed on the label that it’s called the altogether classier ‘persian red.’ And I ordered three or four more bras too.

(Can I clear up a little … confusion here … someone mentioned ‘toys’ in relation to my underwear party. I’d like to inform you it was a very legitimate and sophisticated party with no ‘toys’ of any dubious nature. Bugger.)

I was sad to leave the party though. (I like women friends – it’s taken me years to realise how much I like my women friends. Husband’s always been my best friend, but, you know, he’s a man…and that isn’t quite the same.) But if I’d stayed I would’ve drunk too much wine and had a terrific hangover this morning. And I thought the Soi Dogs needed me! Ha, hilarious thought. I arrived during the last round and couldn’t really get my head in gear to be any help at all. I gave them one answer of ‘King Herod’, but I don’t think it was correct. We came third from bottom. *Sigh.*

I missed a meeting today – the time had changed so many times that I didn’t have it in my diary. Stupid woman.

Next I went to the Hospital to meet some of Husband’s colleagues: Husband’s secretary just had her first baby. Ahh, baby was very sweet and made me feel broody for about 3 minutes, until I remembered.

I’m afraid I haven’t done anything else with my day, except bask in the feeling of being happier, which is lovely. No writing to report. Will try again tomorrow.

Worrying again... Sorry

I'm feeling decidedly Pantone 292 today.

Why? Why? WHY? When I've written about 3,000 words in two days, sorted out my personal issue, how can I still feel blue?

Why can't I stop worrying?

Today I am worrying for several reasons.

• I've doubled booked myself tonight. My friend S is having a 'Smoochie Smoochie' Party, which is like a tupperware party only for underwear. Smoochie Smoochie is a new, just launched, lingerie company set up by two British women here in Bangkok. It is a totally brilliant idea because farang women (white westerners) cannot buy underwear here unless they are narrow backed with small boobs. Those of us that are born with a chocolate habit, and built with knockers that require works of structural engineering (me) rather than vests, cannot buy bras. So I want to go and I've said I am. BUT...
• Our twice monthly quiz is on at the Londoner pub. I go with some of Husband's colleagues and any visitors we can recruit. We are the Soi Dogs team and you can see from the website that we really are spectacularly awful. It takes real skill to be that crap. I enjoy it though, I like going, I like the colleagues and I don't care about losing atrociously. They don't exactly rely on me (the two questions out of 100 I might actually get right, is really quite negligible) but I like the evening.
• I'm worrying that even though I'm writing, I've totally lost my voice. Obviously I don't mean I'm croaky voiced, I mean I'm not writing like me. I worry so much about 'How to Write' that I've gone lost all the me-ness about the story.

Now it's all okay, though: one day soon I will wake up less blue-feeling. Tonight I will go to the tupperware/underwear party first, then flit off to the quiz. I think maybe chocolate will solve my voice/me-ness problem, and then reading, not writing. And if chocolate doesn't solve it, it'll still be yummy.

Where was the writing fairy?

I thought I'd better drop in to record my postive though less impressive 840 words today. I had a personal issue to sort, which was more important than the writing. I arranged to sort that instead.

Words came a bit harder today, and I confess I'm feeling a bit blagh for some reason.

I've added my 840 words to my grand total of 18,226 and that makes 19,066, which is jolly near to 20,000 words. Hurrah.

More than 2,000 reasons to be cheerful

I know it's a not unusual for many of you: Novel Racer folk regularly do this number of words. But I talk about bottoms a lot and worry about things: writing and not writing. If I manage any words, it's usually a maximum of 1,000.

Today, after Sunday lunch I went to Starbucks, where I wrote lots of words, with my grande English Breakfast tea to have here not take away.

Tomorrow I will do the same thing (perhaps not the Sunday lunch everyday or I will get even fatter) but I will go and order a magic tea and see if I can do it again.

We are a democratic family ... mostly

There are many defining moments in being a parent.

Last night I had a defining moment that gave me great joy. We decided to watch a movie as a family, and sent the children off to compile a short list.

We parents came in as the short list was being assembled, and we added a few that we thought the children might now be ready for. (They are 11 and 13).

The long shortlist was read out and everyone called out a ‘no’ to those they really didn’t want to see. We were left with four film titles:

• Rainman (only seen once, but loved it)
• Tootsie (seen approximately 48 times – still not enough)
• The Truman Show (seen 3 times, never stayed awake to the end)
• Johnny English (oh dear, once really was enough)

Daughter gave us each two pieces of paper to write our first and second choices on which she collected up and called out the results.

Tootsie and The Truman Show came in tied first place (Sorry, Husband, I confess to tactical voting by avoiding Rainman – didn’t want to split the vote!)

We voted again. (Complicated first and second placings in previous round meant that it wasn’t a foregone conclusion that it would be two votes each.)

It was two votes each.

Son pulled a title out of a hat: Tootsie won.

Tootsie is my tippity top all time favourite film.

Maybe it was a bit early for Daughter at 11. She enjoyed it but didn’t get it all.

But Son, he laughed. He loved it. He loved my favourite film. It gave me great pleasure to share it with him. I can't wait to show him The Shawshank Redemption.