New Years resolutions

So, I guess it's that time when I reminisce about 2013 and say what my resolutions are for 2014. You're getting half of that - you've had a year of whiny blog posts saying what's gone on this year - enjoy!

So, I have a few resolutions for this year coming:

1. Buy a bike, and practice riding. Purely so I don't screw myself over at the TTP fundraiser again this year!

2. Edit uprooted. Publish if I can.

3. Finish departed.

4. Finish reunited.

5. Plan the next four books properly.

6. Finish my other writing projects (sporkings and fanfics).

7. Finish reading The Lord Of The Rings trilogy. I left them at the Ents.

8. Stop buying shit I don't need (this is the first one I'll break).

9. Reply to emails, texts and messages, since I'm shit at that (or this one, I might break this one really quickly).

10. Be more organised in general.

Achievable? Probably not! Anyone else want to share their resolutions?

Christmas presents

I haven't really talked about Christmas, have I? It's kind of low-key for me these days, the bigger thrill being seeing Noah enjoy his presents before they get discarded for lego and the TV. But still, I did get some things. A gorgeous hand-crafted cushion, which is cream with nine different-patterned hearts on it (I'll do a photo later), £25 (I put it towards those wedge faux-sheepskin boots from Dune I put in the last post), a Harry Potter bookmark from some manager/friend/reader, made by a new friend made through NaNo, who also runs Made By Birdies:

A box of Thornton's chocolates, some spoons from my son with a theme I approve of:

And two books:

I've read some of the Etymologicon so far, it's fascinating. Like, Lord and Lady come from bread. The longest sentence in the English language that makes sense with various spoken inflections is Buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo. Nazi is an abbreviation of the name Ignatus (you're thinking Harry potter too!) and is a typical name of a Bavarian peasant, and meant as an insult. It was given to Hitler's party as an insult - so long as the Gestapo weren't listening, I guess. It's just … it's incredible for a geek like me. Can't wait to crack the Horologicon either.

That was it, by the way. I said it was low-key, but everything I did receive was so perfect, I'm really grateful. And I promise not to break them, like Noah's already broken his. And I won't forget them, like he's going to forget the Aqua Dragons my sister bought him (I'm fascinated by those too, they can reproduce 5 different ways, some of their offspring are born as larvae, some as eggs that quickly turn to larvae, and some that need to dry out first, so even if this lot die, if they've laid eggs they can rise again) and I'll be the one feeding them every few days like they're meant to be fed.

Remind me how I have no money?

And I really shouldn't have spent £99 on new shoes yesterday (I finally got the tan Reaches!) or £37 on amazon on Hawaiian Punch, Grape Soda or Cheetos?

Although, it's far cheaper than trawling Charlies and Sweets from Heaven every day.

It's the little things that make me happy.

I am so easily pleased. And totally living in the wrong country.

Also, I started reading a book today that I found yesterday. It's a better-written version of Giovanna's book, and I totally recommend it despite only being like, 140 of 404 pages in. This Is What Happy Looks Like, by Jennifer E Smith.

The imagery, the emotions, the descriptions of the town, the characterisations … perfect. So well done.

Siobhan's Sporking: Billy And Me, Chapter 28

It’s the final chapter! I decided to make an occasion of it, and dragged Carter, Lamb and Becki to review this with me. Like one big party.

Lamb: Is there cake?

Me: There could be cake. I can’t guarantee it’s in date, but hot chocolate pudding? Golden syrup sponge?

Becki: How many carbs are in those?

Lamb: You get a free pass for cake.

Carter: Ahem, Siobhan, beer?

Me: You’re sixteen. No.

Carter: But you’re like, a hundred. And we’re not in a bar …

Me: No. Beer sucks. You can have a Disarrano and cherry coke?

Carter: Girl drinks? Really?

Me: So, chapter 28 starts with a description of different craft supplies, all crowded around Sophie.

Carter: Are you really ignoring me? Was it because I called you like, a hundred?

Me: And just in case it wasn’t clear, Sophie’s making more home-made gifts.

Becki: The description of her latest project sounds cute. Heart-shaped plaques with book quotes on the 

edges. I’d have those!

Me: her latest one includes a Little Women quote about not being afraid of storms, which she likens to working in the teashop again. Wow, such subtle symbolism.

Carter: I don’t know, I don’t think Lamb would make the connection unless it was spelled out for her.

Lamb: You’re really not going to score any alcohol at this rate, Carter. Or cake.

Me: I might give him cake. As long as you don’t kill him.

Lamb: Eh.

Me: Anyway, my entire problem with this is something that’s rife in a lot of books these days, the incredible amount that authors will go out of their way to get that you understand the symbolism, or references, or bad jokes. Like, I read The Boyfriend Thief recently, which featured no boyfriends being stolen, but there was this character, Zac? He had a stand-up routine. Which featured in a couple of chapters. Shana Norris wrote them in, and everyone in the book is howling in laughter and I’m like ‘meh’ as it is, but then she proceeded to say why it was funny, and I was like ‘no, I get it, but really not.’

Lamb: You’re not really enticing me to read.

Me: Still, you should afford your readers a little credit. If you feel the need to explain, wait until you’re doing interviews. It’s like if I’d written this scene:

Carter has his arm around me, should I be okay with this? I thought he hated me, so I'm completely confused about why he would be so buddy-buddy all of a sudden.

He's led me into a music store. He didn't say anything about my music tastes, which makes me think he doesn't approve. I get the feeling there's a lot in life that Carter doesn't approve of.

I'm feeling awkward enough coming along. I don't know what dad's going to say. Mum didn't say much when I told her Carter had asked me to come hang out. I know they like our neighbours, but I can't help thinking that somehow I'm still messing up.

But had written it more like:

Carter had his arm around me, and I didn’t know if I should be okay with that. I thought he hated me, and you don’t put your arms around people you hate, not unless you’re trying to hurt them. And he definitely wasn’t trying to hurt me. And I’m not sure I’m comfortable with people touching me right now, I’ve had such a hard time because I let people touch me when I wasn’t okay with it. Not that Carter’s doing anything wrong, he’s just got his arm around me. I’d say he’s being friendly, but I don’t think he’s even capable of that.

He walked me into the music store, as a result of my saying I had no idea who Jack’s something were, I guess. He didn’t say anything when I said I liked pop music, so I guess he’s one of those people who hates pop music because they’re into weird stuff and that makes them so superior to everyone else. They secretly like pop music anyway, but just want to seem cool by not-liking it. I bet he secretly listens to Miley Cyrus or something. He acts like he doesn’t approve of it, and I get the feeling he does that about everything, so he’s clearly covering up some pain somewhere.

I feel awkward. I guess that’s the word. I’m still not good at analysing my own feelings right now, but I think that’s the right one. I felt awkward because of my dad’s no-boys rule, and because Carter’s not exactly been welcoming up until now and I still think he and his friends hate me. I did tell Mum, to give her the chance to tell me I wasn’t allowed, but she didn’t really say much, she just nodded absent-mindedly. I wasn’t sure if she’d heard me but Carter had decided she was okay with it. I’m just worried that even if she and Dad like the Fennigans, I’m still messing up, and I mean it when I say I’m sick of messing up.

Which seems far whinier, gives way too much away and actually bored me writing it.

Carter: Lamb, you thought that?

Lamb: She’s putting words in my mouth.

Becki: I always liked you, Lamb!

Me: You’re all getting off point. Can we focus?

Carter: I’ll focus for beer.

Me: Fine *passes Carter a beer, and Becki and Lamb some chocolate vodka I’ve just cracked open* Anyway, you shouldn’t need me or Lamb to tell you that Carter seems sour, or that he’s sent a mixed-message at that point, there should be enough in the original to make you say ‘that’s awkward’ and know why without it being expressed. But moving on. Sophie says her time back at the teashop is enjoyable but daunting … she did this for eight years, and still only seems set on shop girl role, rather than business owner, so where’s daunting? If she’s overwhelmed by the demand from a bunch of grandmas, she should hire someone. She should be able to budget for that.

Carter: *taking over the book and sipping his beer* the ‘gifts’ have been selling as well as the cakes, apparently, just like Sophie knew they would. Well, isn’t she just precious? Apparently, everyone loves Sophie’s changes, except one person who’s pissed because she can no longer spy on people. And she got given free cake. The fuck?

Lamb: It’s set in England, I bet Molly had CCTV to capture every time she stole the sweet’n’lows.

Me: I know freebies are given at managers discretion, but that’s such a petty reason. As much as I think Sophie’s a fucktard, she made those decisions for what is now her shop and bribing your customers because they don’t like the décor is just pathetic. You can, by all means, give away a cake or a drink if someone found, say, a fly in their food, or if it got dropped. But this is just … I’m not even going to go there. I’m just going to stew in my loathing of her. Anyway, the next bit is worse. Remember way back in like, chapter two, when Sophie was bitching about all the schoolkids – sorry, school girls – ruining the classics in the library by using the copies?

One of the highlights of the week for me, though, was when Janet, Ella and Charlotte ventured in after school and picked up a book each and decided to sit in silence for an hour and a half whilst reading. I couldn’t contain my joy at the sight in front of me and decided to give them all muffins (skinny ones, of course) on the house. I promise those are the only occasions on which I have given away free food … actually, there was Mr Tucker’s birthday cupcake too!

Yeah. But Sophie, it’s not me you have to justify this to, it’s your auditor, your tax accountant (I presume you’re not going to attempt taxes on your own the first year?) … I could actually care less how frivolous you are, even after your boasting about your frugal ways.

Becki: You know, discussing money is pretty tacky.

Carter: Only when you have it.

Me: I kind of agree with you Becki, but only on a personal level. Boasting you earn 50k a year is stupid. But being business savvy and making sure you turn a profit is just common sense. She’s going to have to be frugal with her own outgoings if she has this attitude.

Carter: Some presenter guy has his own show, which is conveniently on at that point. He introduces Billy in that annoyingly gushy way some presenters have, telling you all about them. Dude, it’s the last chapter, we get who he is already.

Me: Sophie is completely out of character, calling for her mother and sitting to watch, rather than turning over and crying over the end of her relationship. No, wait, she does look for the remote, but then she stops to critique Billy. And now I’m confused. He’s been confident as he pulls the strings backstage to ensure Sophie gets to see Molly, he’s sending all those love quotes he googled on the plethora of photos he has of the two of them, and yet

I watch Billy walk into the television studio, looking pale and fraught. His face is noticeably thinner with gaunt shadows darkening his features. He looks uncharacteristically sad and downbeat. I’m shocked by the change in him, at how fragile and unconfident he seems.

Lamb: She saw him walk into the studio? Shouldn’t that be she saw him walk on set?

Carter: True, but that’s not what pissed off Siobhan.

Me: Nope. They’ve been apart for what, a month? Six weeks tops? And he’s done all these amazing things for her, but he’s clearly suffering without Sophie to keep him going. The interview is meant to be stilted, but just reads as a normal conversation, and because Billy has been out of the picture so long, and barely had a personality to begin with, I can’t tell a difference. Sophie can, because she says this isn’t the Billy she knows … but she keeps saying that. Billy took an acting job, that’s not the Billy she knows! Billy is gracious when he receives an award. That’s not the Billy she knows!

Carter: What follows is a rehash of Billy’s backstory. I guess some people have memories of a goldfish and need the rehash, but we’re all intelligent people here, right? Right.

Lamb: Are you trying to skip pages?

Me: It’s allowed, I try it all the time. They start talking about Pride and Prejudice, and major surprise, Sophie gets mentioned! And Billy just waxes lyrical about how amazing she is.

Carter: *sniggering like crazy*

Me: Guys don’t talk like that! And then the interviewer mentions the ex and Billy gets so unprofessional. I mean, he’s sealing his fate as never working again.

“ … There’s absolutely no way I would be so disloyal to Sophie. I’m still hurt that Heidi put me in that position and used me in that way.”
“It must’ve been tough working alongside her afterwards.”
“I didn’t work alongside her. I quit.”
My jaw drops. He pulled out of the film? When did that happen?
“Really?”
“Yes. The most important thing in anything I do is being able to trust the people around me,” he continues. “I didn’t feel I could work in those conditions. It wasn’t an easy thing to do – I had to o through endless meetings with my lawyers because there are so many legalities involved. In fact, there’s only so much I’m allowed to say because of that.”

I get that it’s meant to be Billy showing his integrity, but he’s a freaking actor, act like you give a shit because now you’re out of pocket and have a bad reputation!

Carter: The next bit of his speech is worse. Could she try putting words in his mouth more?

“I’m not blameless in this whole thing. I played my part, too. I became selfish and egotistical. I got carried away with my acting roles, blurring the lines of what was appropriate and not, without a second thought for anything else. I allowed myself to become absorbed in my work and sucked into a life that is neither real nor satisfying. I ignored the views of someone I really love and …” he stops and covers his face.

I don’t remember you bleating about that, Siobhan. I remember him spending far too much time making sure she was okay, he wouldn’t do it if she wasn’t sure, but he really wants to for his brand … it’s a load of wank. And then there’s a hell of a lot of wank about how amazing Sophie is and we’re skipping it, surely?

Me: God, yes! It’s like three pages of the wonders of Sophie. And I’m sure Giovanna wants people to think that about her, but I already did before this book. Now *sucks in a breath* not so sure. Sophie turns off the television, and starts crying over him a-fucking-gain, and then … it’s so cliché and nauseating. Someone else read it!

Carter: Yeah, no. I got what I came for *sucks down more beer*

Becki: I’ll do it! I bet it’s really sweet and you’re just sour-pusses. *reads* Billy’s there! Out of nowhere, and he’s comforting her, and apologising, and she pauses like ‘is that really him?’ and it is. And she’s hesitating because she can’t believe it, and she wants him to talk again, because his rubbing her back just isn’t enough. And she starts crying again. It’s so cute!

Me: He calls her baby, and I want to hit him. She’s trying to work ‘Baby’ as a term of endearment but it always makes me think he can’t remember her fucking name. Either that, or it’s infantilising and therefore really gross.

Becki: She looks at him, and takes in every inch, except his eyes, like she’s too afraid to see that the desire’s gone. Silly, he came! He came after everything!

Carter: Conveniently appearing at the end of a TV show there was a small chance she’d watch?

Me: She describes his clothes, rather than whether he was as haggard in real life as he was on TV. I don’t know what to make of that, to be honest.

Becki: Maybe she’s just overwhelmed by his very presence?

Carter: Yeah. That’s it.

Me: She asks him how could he be there when he was just on TV, and then when he says it got filmed the day before, she says the how isn’t important. Then why fricking ask? They start getting all touchy-feely and then he tells her that he’s seen the shop and he’s so proud. And there’s more wank about how Sophie’s come so far and done so much and … hold up a second. She’s working in her home town, in her old job as she has since she left school. She’s on the brink of dating Billy again. She’s back to chapter four. Her phrasing is repugnant.

The mention of the shop and Molly causes a further influx of emotion and a swelling of pride in my chest. I’ve come so far. I’ve done something for myself for the first time in my life. And I achieved this even though I felt lost and heartbroken. I did it.

Yeah Sophie, you climbed that mountain of being handed shit, and you did it all yourself, raising the deposit, negotiating a loan with the bank based on your business plan, hunted down premises where your niche would be appreciated … wait, no you fucking didn’t! And saying you felt emotion doesn’t give the reader a sense of emotion. But we’ve gone over this ad nauseum by now, haven’t we? Billy says he’s proud, and then she kisses him.

Car, Becki, Lamb, you can all go now. I’ll wrap this up. Thanks for keeping me company tonight.

Becki: No problem!

Lamb: It’s okay.

Carter: Bite me.

*they leave, Carter swiping the last of the beer I have*

Me: Guys, we’re at the end. All the loose ends should be wrapped up by now (was Paul ever evil, or Billy and Sophie’s greatest asset? Is Billy quitting Hollywood for good? Did Sophie’s mum who never gets a name marry Colin? Did Sophie and her mother finally forgive themselves over Sophie’s father?) so all that’s left is the final paragraphs. And the Q&A. Ready for the huge impact of her final thoughts, the entire summation of this project?

I’ve had my fill of blame, sorrow and hurt. I don’t want to hear any more. Likewise, I’ve had enough of having to live without the people I love beside me every day.
Molly once said to grab every opportunity that comes my way – on this occasion, I think I’ll take that advice literally … she’s have liked that.

Actually, good summary of the selfishness of Sophie. And how else are you meant to take that phrase, except literally? Can you metaphorically grab every opportunity?

I don’t know. I just know we made it. We did it. Guys, after the Q&A, we’re through! *pops party poppers and hangs streamers*

Siobhan's Sporking: Billy And Me, Chapter 27

So, it’s Christmas Eve (or, in the words of my friend Cat, Christmas Adam) and we have two more chapters and a Q&A to go. I am so obviously going to end up publishing this on Christmas Day, so Merry Christmas, people!

I admit, I’ve already finished, and the thing that got me the most was who pushed Giovanna to write. It still does not compute. Here’s a clue: I mentioned this author, and said she was superior, and went into why. My friend Julie knows this author. So, apparently, does Giovanna. Does not compute.

Anyway, Chapter twenty-seven! Here we go people!

It starts by fast-forwarding to the opening of the shop, and we have some wonderfully clunky description. Oh Gi, stick with it!

Inside, it looks relatively the same as before, although it’s been spruced up with a lick of paint and there’s now a big cabinet made of weathered white wood against one of the far walls, where some of the home-made gifts are displayed.

So it’s all the same, except obviously different. You know, every so often, my new work will have a sale, and we have to put all these green banners up. There’s not many, maybe three per shelf? And the shop always looks so different, and when they go away again, the shop looks naked. And she’s talking about a different paint scheme all over the interior and how it looks the same.

As ever, eat me, Giovanna.

Sophie explains about the cabinet in detail, but I’m not impressed. There are heart-shaped blackboards. Some of Sophie’s favourite books (all three of them! And I bet she didn’t make those …) and she has a sign on them saying ‘devour me’. So now she’s ruined Alice In Wonderland, and Lydia gets to hate her too. Sophie explains people can basically use these books like you would a library (putting Mummy out of her job?) while they eat and slop coffee and cake crumbs between the leaves (shuddering already) … why would she put these things in the same place as salable items? It’s confusing.

Sophie moans she hasn’t included flowers, and she’s sad about that. It already sounds like an eclectic mess, Giovanna, you don’t need to make Sophie want to make it worse. Would people get to devour the flowers too? Rose petals used to be a delicacy.

Anyway, both Sophie and Giovanna continue to live in a dream world, deciding to make a huge production over re-opening the shop. I’m sure the only people who actually care are the old ladies, and Janet’s little gang. And sorry, isn’t this giving Sophie extra attention? FFS, stick to your characterisation! There’s been no proof to show she’s grown to like the attention, past her stupid tantrums when Billy was being fawned over.

So, here I am, standing outside the shop, with the new sign above me covered up for its grand unveiling, which will be the first noticeable difference the villagers will see in the shop. In front of me I’ve laid out a huge table, which is laden with cakes of all shapes and sizes, as well as dozens of big teapots, for everybody to help themselves to – at first, I thought I might’ve been being too hopeful and made too much, but now, as a crowd has started to gather, I’m slightly worried that I might run out of it all rather quickly.

That whole paragraph is two sentences. Ouch! Run on sentences like that imply the character is talking fast, I use it a lot when my characters get emotional, or they’re reaching for words. Sophie’s just describing shit. And there’s some horrible grammar in there. ‘In front of me I’ve laid out a huge table’? ‘been being too hopeful’? Double ouch. But of course, everyone suddenly loves Shut-in Sophie.

She describes the crowd, and then her mother and Colin come up, asking if she’s ready. Dunno what for, since there’s been no hint so far, and all she’s done is describe setting up cake and not-cake things. People are already eating and drinking and taking advantage of her freebies and laughing at her for her poor cost control. And we see another line that makes me think Sophie is a world-class bitch.

I’ve always liked Colin, but over the last few weeks he has proven himself invaluable. His help has been priceless. I’ve enjoyed getting to know him a little bit better and understanding why there has been such a huge change in Mum. I have a lot of time for him.

I know this is supposed to read as Sophie accepting her mother moving on, but it really reads like ‘I like Colin because he gives me free shit and I therefore deign to speak to him’. Spoilt bitch.

Anyway, it turns out her mother was prompting her to make a speech. She starts to, and it’s insipid at best, and since it’s Sophie:

“ … I’m so sorry it’s taken me a while to pluck up the courage to do this but-“
I stop as a lump forms in my throat, threatening blubs if I continue. I look down at the ground in front of me and clench my jaw as I try to take hold of myself and my emotions.
“Go on Sophie! We’re right behind you!” shouts a merry Mrs Sleep from the crowd, sparking further cheers of support.

Attention-seeker.

Sophie smiles at the crowd, and recognizes they’ve always been there for her (even those who ignored her at school?) and then she can magically continue with her speech. She actually says some nice things about Molly, in the penultimate chapter (I guess better late than never?) and then unveils the new name of the teashop. It’s no longer Tea-On-The-Hill, it’s Molly-On-The-Hill. Makes no sense, is creepy, and pathetic … it’s so Sophie.

Of course, I’m alone in this opinion:

As the sheet falls I hear a number of surprised gasps from the crowd.
“Oh my!” says Mrs Sleep.
“Woooow!” says Janet. “It’s beautiful!”
Miss Brown is the first to start the clapping, which spreads across the group.
“To Molly!” shouts Mum.“To Molly!” we all chorus back, holding our teacups and cakes up to the heavens.

Yuck. Oh well, one more chapter, the Q&A and then I summarise. The summary will appear on Goodreads. I’m thinking of what books to do next, and I think I’m going to tackle Stephanie Perkins sister-books: Anna And The French Kiss, Lola And The Boy Next Door (the last book I was slating, Lydia!) and Isla And The Happily Ever After. Stupid names, poor clichés and storylines that don’t last the entire book, bet you can hardly wait, huh?