Grammatical pet hates.

The standard of written English seems to have taken a radical nosedive in the last few years. So much so that I begin to feel like written English is almost a second language to many on the internet.

So many times I see ANGRY SHOUTY PEOPLE who haven't discovered that you can turn off the caps lock key. Others who write in lowercase and forget that occasionally the beginning of a sentance and people's names might like the odd capital at the front. Then there's tHe onEs WhO wRiTE liKe TheY ArE ransoming a Teddy. Yet more treat punctuation like a game of pin the tail on the Donkey. And a little grammatical note: there should not be a space between the word and the question/exclamation mark. I've also seen those who have heard about punctuation, but haven't worked out that commas and full stops don't like to be out on their own, but prefer to tag on the end of a word.

Then there's the semi colon and the apostrophe - don't get me started on them! The apostrophe denotes the possessive as well as standing in for missing words in contractions. Only a small number of unusual plurals might need them (like date numbers: 1980's because there are ten of those pesky little years in there). The semi colon actually has some quite important uses. Remember kids: it isn't just one half of a smily face ;) Two halves of a sentance that are losely connected but not directly connected are seperated by one instead of a comma: "The man picked up his umbrella; it was a rainy day outside". Then there is seperation of list items: Like this; from this. Actually, a semi colon should appear far more often than a colon does in written English; rarely it does these days.

Other pet gripes include mixing up of there, their, and they're. Remember: 'there' does not cover all three, no matter how often people try to shoe-horn it in. Then of course there is also the rise of the evil of html emails. Really, I don't think that an email message that flashes in red and green on a glitter background adds anything to the message. If you can't say it in ASCII, then really it wasn't worth saying at all.

I learnt all of the above at school. I remember being there, and remember a lot of other people being there. Have many people at large really forgotten how to communicate in writing?

I want to not look stupid dressed like the third member of Tatu.

Getting old is a strange state of affairs. Inside me there is a 16-21 year old who refuses to grow up. I remember actually really being in that age range and, well, the first time around I sort of wanted to be older; I didn't appreciate how truly great it is to be young. They say you don't miss something until it's gone and that is so true!

Around ten years has gone by though, and I look in the mirror and start to see a middle aged women having some kind of early-mid-life crisis because she really does want to do all those things better suited to a late teenager. If there was one thing I would do if presented with athe ability to go back, it would be to live my life again whilst making more of it. Oh, and hopefully they would let me take back the knowledge of winning lottery numbers too, because it just ain't cricket if you come from the future and can't make a few quid on the side.

Agent provocateur

Potentially good news in the pipeline on the writing front. Not wishing to jinx it I'll hang on a little until I spill the beans.

Paint me a shade of suspicious

Here at Jenny Towers we've just had the surreal experience of some-one knocking on our door and asking if our car, parked in the front drive, was for sale.

Why? Why would we want to sell our means of transportation? If it was for sale, I was tempted to say, it would have had a "For Sale" sign in its window. It's also not the newest of cars, being nearly fourteen years old.

Paint me a shade of suspicious*, but I always wonder what the real motives are. Maybe I've seen one too many scams perpetrated to believe complete strangers like this any more.

*Available in the Dulux range in between "Misty winter" and "raspberry mocha swirl".

A bit of hobby-based DIY.

The Jenny model railway project is now finally in full swing. Let me explain: after selling a loud of childhood toys (Hornby Dublo tinplate trains for thyose who are interested) I decided I would plough the money earned back into one of my hobbies. That is, model railways (duh!). I wanted to build a proper exhibition quality layout and to do it professionally at every level. The trouble is though that this would be a tall order given how flaky my last model railway was with dubious woodworking for the baseboards (heavy and weak - the worst of both worlds) and crap electrics.

I bought the wood (an 8'x4' sheet of 6mm ply) on Tuesday and set straight to work under the guidance of my Father. I'm really pleased to say that I did all the work with him just giving me tips and advice intermitantly. It took two days to build, but it is both very strong and very light. Yesterday I painted it all, and I have to say I am really pleased with the results - I'm actually proud of what I've done.

I'll get some photos soon so I can illistrate progress. My idea is to use them as a basis of an article or articles for model railway magazines. Once the paint has dried nice and hard (I'm leaving it be all weekend to make sure) then it is on to the electrical and track side of things. I've done a lot of planning (and really, planning everything extensively has been the key this time) so once I make a trip to Preston to a little shop to buy the bits I need, I should progress quite fast. Then and only then does the fun stuff of actually making the models start. I've done one of the two boring bits in the form of the woodwork, so just the electrics to sort then the two things which sank my last project will be conquered!

There's a hole in my bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza...

It always surprises me when some-one takes me seriously. Why? Because I don't take myself seriously at all. It makes me feel almost frightened that somebody is somehow expecting pearls of wisdom and maturity from me, and it ain't here baby. At least, I don't think so.

I get a similar feeling when playing with my nephew. I suppose he looks up to me and believes everything I say. How can I break it to him that inside my mind is a collection of thoughts and ideas as hairbrained as his own?

Taking things literally.

If I take my Father, can we park in the "parent and child" slots at the supermarket? It would at least help his dodgy hip.

Latex condom clad idiots.

There seems to be a new breed of ignorant and selfish cyclists afoot around Bolton. Namely, those who, clad in their latex condom suits, ride two or even three abreast on dangerous country roads. Now, I did cycling proficiency as a child. Back then everyone did, and one of the big no-no's was riding two or more abreast. You just don't do it.

It seems the message never sunk in to some dodos. Riding two or even three abreast on a road that is officially one of the top five most dangerous roads in the country, they risk being killed, as well as killing other people. The sooner the Police crack down on these imbeciles, the better everyone's safety will be.

I'd like to thank my family, a bloke called Bob down the pub and......

Today is the first day back on the radio after a two week holiday. Unusually for me, I spent some time on Thursday evening picking records out and having a think about what I would be likely to play. That's unusual for me, as my usual approach is to pick records from the rack at random on the morning of the show.

The annual awards are coming up soon; more importantly, the deadline for submissions is coming up at the very beginning of December. We're planning three submissions in three categories. We have a whole year of programmes to produce five minutes for each of the three, so it should not be too hard to find enough material. After having gone to the ceremony last time, I know how to focus the submission and what areas the judges are looking for, so fingers crossed that this year I'm in with a lot better chance of being able to call myself "award winning".

Chateaux of insulation.

At chateaux Jenny yesterday we had a man come around to survey the place for insulation. It's going to have cavity wall insulation as well as new loft insulation. The loft turned out to be a shocker upon survey. The level of effective insulation up there varies from two inches down to nothing. Yes, right. I therefore expect the insulation when done to make a BIG difference!

I cannot recommend more highly getting an insulation survey done. The surveys are free, and there are grants available, even if you live in a privately rented property, which can offset most or even all of the cost. We'll find out on Monday when they are coming to fit it.

Ebook offer.

A new updated edit of 'Bringing home the stars' is available now as an ebook for just 40p. Read the book that everyone is talking about! You won't be disappointed!

'Bringing home the stars' ebook.

Dezza is a gritty salvager in a harsh world. Forced to confront an urban myth made of the retelling of stories of the Mary Celeste, he finds himself pitched into a nightmare aboard a derelict Starliner in deep uncharted space. He loses his friends, his livelihood and his reputation aboard the vessel.
Returning to civilisation, he struggles to come to terms with society's prejudices of a man who lost his crewmate to a ghost story, and the demons that lurk within his own mind.

Crawling inside a bottle, he is thrown a lifeline by one person who might believe him, on the condition he returns to the Starliner. He is offered the chance of redemption and an opportunity to confront those personal demons. There are questions to be answered, not least because another salvage crew have already been and disappeared without trace.

Immortality

I've often thought that true immortality is writing a successful children's book.

Cover me in eggs and flour and bake me for ten minutes.

I hate writers' block. It is the bane of all writers the world over. It happens from time to time (and indeed I think I've written about it when it does on my blogs over the years). At the moment I'm at that awful stage of having just started another book. It's a science-fiction/horror, because I rather like that genre after the successful 'Bringing home the stars'. However I've got a very basic idea in my head and barely 1,500 words on the page. In truth I just can't seem to get a handle on it. It is as if I cannot visualise where the hell this book is going.

Many books start this way. Sometimes the starting is the hardest part - after a while I personally find that most books get into a rhythm and practically write themselves, at least for most of the way. This one, however, is proving problematic.

Still, this year has been an immensely productive year, so I shouldn't be too disappointed. However I was trying to do NaNoWriMo, and increasingly it looks like I'll not manage to get that 50,000 word figure within this month. I know I can do it, because I succeeded last year, and there is still time, but it is hard.

Whoever said working as a writer was easy? It sure as hell isn't most of the time.

That's the way the cookie explodes.

I've had in the post today one of the most patronising letters from a publisher. Actually, it is so unprofessional a response, I am so tempted to name and shame them. Still, it isn't like they are a big player in the market - perhaps with this poor standard of communication that is why?.

It uses the phrase "at the risk of teaching my grandmother to suck eggs" (cliché) for a start - remember this is their form rejection letter here. It also contradicts everything that I sent them indicating that not only have they not read my submission, but at the same time they didn't even bother to read the covering letter or indeed see that there was in fact a one page synopsis with it. It also advises me (or indeed anyone else they send this junk to) . To "send a synopsis, preferably of the 'book blurb' type" and to "not give away the ending". Bullshit. This is a business where any professional publisher wants to know what they are potentially buying and that it has a coherent plot that goes through to a worthwhile and plausible conclusion. It is certainly not like browsing the shelves of Waterstones looking for something to read on the train.

Every once in a while my work throws up a timewaster of the extreme. This publisher certainly takes that title. Thankfully, truly ignoramous-proportioned fools are few and far between, but this publisher is up there on my list (yes, I have a list of timewasters from my last ten years or so working as a writer, so I don't waste my time, paper and stamps a second time).

Why does my TV waste so much?

In this world where saving the planet seems to be the touchy-feely 'in' thing, there is something that bothers me greatly everytime a politician attempts to get themselves on the bandwagon and talks about "cutting carbon emissions". It is that almost every item of electronics available these days cannot be easily switched off properly.

Meet the bane of every power bill: the standby button.

What's wrong with a proper off switch? Remember them? You used to get off your fat arse and wander over to the TV or video and physical click them off. None of this glowing red or blue funhouses of light that were actually powerful enough to illuminate a room without the lights on. It just turned off. I keep reading about how the standby function on most modern TVs wastes nearly as much energy as when the TV is switched on. I even find now that these things are being sold without a hard off function whereby unless you burrow down behind it and physically pull the plug, it can only be turned to either wasteful standby or on.

Where the hell is common sense? If politicians were actually serious about cutting emissions they would have legislated against this useless wasting of energy for no good reason. And there is no good reason to have electronics on standby doing nothing but slurping from the national grid. I would propose a law that quite simply says: "All new electronics devices must have a switch located at the front of the device that can be easily accessed by the user which when switched brings the device's power consumption to zero." There. That wouldn't be too hard would it? But I still haven't seen it proposed after years of seeing the rise of power wasting electronics. How many power stations around the world exist just to provide the wasted power for the standby function?

If politicians really were serious about cutting greenhouse gasses, they would be banning the standby function right now.

Wind of change.

To me, the one piece of music that always reminds me of the end of the Berlin wall is the Scorpions' "Wind of change". I'm not actually sure why though; was it in the charts at the time or just played on all the news reports? I remember the wall coming down. I was in primary school at the time, but even then I sort of realised the significance. It was one of those moments that you just remember.

Lingerie and the train.

Saturday was an interesting day. We went shopping at the Metro centre (we're visiting relatives in the North East). It struck me when we came back that my shopping bag had rather an unusual combination of items in. Let's just say that lace top 15 denier stockings and model railway items make unusual bagfellows.

I'm back home tomorrow. Normal service shall hopefully resume then.

The grindstone beckons once more.

It's been a busy weekend, not least because of the annual Halloween party that Zoë and I have hosted at Chateaux Kirk-Robinson since 2005. However, the new toner cartridge finally arrived (lightning fast despite the postal strike) so all was good for getting back to the grindstone today.

Actually, I've been very busy going through Colin Smythe's recommendations. I've actually sent out to seven agents. Yes, that's right: seven agents. Two were via email, but the rest were through snail mail. The printer has performed flawlessly; it is nice to have a quiet and reliable printer again, despite the fact that I prefer to work in a paperless office ("what heathen blasphemy for a writer is this?" I hear you all cry).

Tomorrow I'm off to Durham for a week, on matters of a recreational nature. That means I won't be able to do much work, so I thought it best to make the extra special effort today. And I did.

In other news, Zoë entered me into NaNoWriMo again. She did this last year, and I did succeed in writing a book within the timeframe. I had then, however, an advantage that I had a really well-defdined idea in my head. Well, this year she's signed me up again, and I must confess that I'm not entirely sure that I have the ideas, motivation or even time. But I suppose I ought to give it a shot. No promises though.