Have you been yet?

Have you been over to Ruthie’s Club to read Six-Thirty Sleeper to Paris yet? No, why not? It’s just one of nine great new erotic stories published there this week on the reasonably priced, subscription-based, adults only website.

As id that wasn’t enough, below are the official teaser for my new story, and a brief extract (which I’m afraid doesn’t include any of the dirty bits – you have to pay for those you know)

Oh, and why not visit my website too to find out more about little ole me.

New city, new job, new life. Harry’s leaving Rome on the overnight train to Paris. But he isn’t too pleased about starting his new life by sharing a cabin with a complete stranger—even if she is an elegant and beautiful Parisian

Six-Thirty Sleeper to Paris – an extract with no dirty bits.

“Which one would you like?” Céline asked.

“I’m sorry.”

“Ze beds? Do you want to go on top or below?”

“It makes no difference to me. You decide which you want, and I’ll take the other.”

“Bon. I prefer to be below.” She went over to the luggage rack and tried to remove one of her cases. It was stuck. As she struggled with it, Harry rushed over to help.

“Oh, merci. C’est gentil, monsieur.” She put the case on the seat and opened it. Harry could see her underwear in the case. Most of it was black and looked skimpy at best. He quickly looked out of the window. It was dark outside. All he could see was Céline’s reflection as she rooted through her case. Eventually she found what she was looking for. “Would you mind?” she asked, nodding to the case.

“Sure,” said Harry. He put the case back in the luggage rack and she entered the tiny cubicle that passed for a bathroom to change for bed. While she was locked away, Harry retrieved his own pyjamas from his overnight bag.

Céline returned, fully clothed and looking annoyed. “C’est impossible. This bathroom is far too small to be undressing.”

“I could wait outside, if you like?”

“C’est gentil, monsieur, but that would ’ardly be fair on you. And I cannot be offering to do the same as you are changing. Non, perhaps if you would mind to be facing the other way…?”

“Sure. I promise not to peek.”

“Merci.”

Harry couldn’t keep his promise. He closed his eyes at first, but temptation got the better of him and he spied on Céline through one eye. Her blouse came off first. Under it, she wore a white bra. Her reflection in the window was too indistinct for Harry to make out any detail. Next, she wiggled out of her skirt to reveal white French knickers. Harry held his breath as she removed her bra and her magnificent breasts came into view. She turned and picked up the slinky red nightgown she’d taken from her bag and pulled it over her head. It slipped down her body, clinging to her curves as it fell into place. Harry’s final treat came when, still facing away from him, she bent over to remove her knickers. Her nightdress rode up to reveal her bottom—and what a bottom it was. Harry thought it one of the best he’d ever seen.

“D’accord,” she said. “I am finished. You are opening your eyes now.”

Harry turned to look at Céline. She twirled around, causing her nightdress to lift up and giving Harry a brief flash of the hair between her legs. Then she stood with her arms held out slightly from her body. “Do you like it? It is new. I am treating myself for my return ’ome.”

“It’s very nice.”

“Very nice? Is that all? You English and your reserve. Is it not sexy?”

“Oh, yes. Very sexy. I just didn’t think it was particularly appropriate to say so.”

“Ah, bon. Alors. I shall be going back in the bathroom to, what is it your English women say? Powdering my nose? But of course, I mean Je fait pee-pee.”

National Badly Driven Van Day

At least, I assume it is. There's been no official notice but I can't think of any other reason why I would have encountered so many really badly driven vans on the way to work this morning. I'm talking about vans stradling two lanes at roundabouts, vans parking in very awkward spots like on the kerb next to a blind bend and vans stopping in the middle of the street so the driver can answer his moblie phone.
I just hope that one day soon we have a "National Really Well Driven Van Day". I doubt that we will though.

New Story at Ruthie's

It's Monday, and that means a host of new stories ar Ruthie's Club. And wouldn't you know, one of them is mine. Six-Thirty Sleeper to Paris is, funnly enough, set on an overnight train from Rome to Paris and I'm sure you'll enjoy it.
Also this week you can enjoy the latest Nightgirl adventure by the remarkable H.L. Berry.
There are also stories by Rowan Elizabeth, Gwen Masters, Laura Bacchi and others.
Ruthie's Club is a subscripion based web-zine and is for over 18s and those of broad mind only.

erotica v porn

This is a response to Daisy Dexter Dobbs Blog entry on the difference between erotica and porn, which is a fascinating read.

I have to say that I agree with Daisy’s assessment of porn – almost. She said :

These stories offer sex without the necessity of a plot, a romance or a committed relationship. Pornography is basically blatant, in-your-face sex that's unapologetically meant to titillate, without bothering to provide a quality reading experience.

It’s the first part of the first sentence that I’d disagree with. Porn does have a plot. Even if that plot is as basic as “I caught my wife cheating and I liked it so much I joined in” or “My wife was feeling old so I organised a gangbang to make her feel young again”.

For me, the difference between porn and erotica doesn’t lie in plot (although, most erotica will have stronger plots than porn for reasons I’ll show you in a sec). It lies in character.

It’s characters that make fiction worth reading or not. You could have the world’s best ever plot, twisting and turning and full of surprises, but if the characters are two-dimensional stereotypes, you’ll not have fiction worth a damn. Would Harry Potter still sell millions if JK Rowling hadn’t created a core group of thoroughly fascinating characters who have developed and changed throughout the series? Would Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels have quite the same impact if the likes of Granny Weatherwax and Commander Vimes were boring, meaningless characters that we as readers didn’t care about? The answer to both questions is no, they wouldn’t. Readers want to engage with character that they feel they know and care about.

In porn, characters don’t matter. You could happily interchange “Sally” from “My cheating Wife” with “Sophie” from “My wife’s fiftieth birthday gangbang” and you’d have essentially the same stories. It’s just like ‘visual’ porn. Take a look at any of the myriad of porn websites and you’ll see the same ‘plot’ (eg girl gets tricked into performing for the camera) played out with a different girl each time.

But with erotica (and erotic romance) the characters don’t just matter – they are essential to the direction and tone of the story. This is what I mean about erotica having stronger plots. The plot is so often determined by the actions of the characters, that if the characters are different, they will make different choices which result in a different outcome and direction of plot.

Take, for example, the characters from two of my recent stories, “Charlotte’s Secret” and “Lost & Found”.

There are three principal characters in Charlotte’s secret and even though we only see the story through the eyes of two of them, at the end we discover that all three have been keeping secrets and that all three have been doing what they think is best for themselves and the ones they love (ie, their children). But it’s Charlotte herself I want to discuss. Almost two years prior to when the story ‘starts’ Charlotte made a decision that meant put all the characters in the position where the story could take place. She chose to keep a secret and allow the man she loved to marry her sister in ignorance of the secret. It’s argued that had Charlotte not kept the secret, but told David what was happening – he would never have married Susie.

Now, in “Lost & Found”, the principal female character, Beth, would have made that other choice. She would have poured her heart out to David—fought for her man. This is because she is a totally different person—fiery, passionate and determined. Whereas Charlotte is more sedate, more thoughtful of other people’s feelings and more willing to sacrifice herself to ‘keep the peace’. Had “Charlotte’s Secret” been “Beth’s Secret” there would have been no story because Beth would never have kept the secret in the first place.

Characters in porn are merely “faceless” cocks and pussies. Porn appeals to our base urges. It has it’s place, and that place is a tool for sexual gratification. Characters in erotica are “real people”, with real emotions, facing real problems and solving them in realistic ways (most of the time). And it’s because these characters have depth and history that they react in different ways to different situations and the resultant plots are stronger and feature more conflict and resolution. And that, at the end of the day, is what good fiction, erotic or otherwise, is all about.

Marcnobbs.com

Monday Update

Just a quickie today – we have the auditors in the office this week and so I need to snatch a few moments when I can.

Over the weekend I made a few minor modifications to my website. I’ve updated my WIP page to reflect recent submissions and acceptances and I’ve changed the ‘titles’ on my story page – they are now in a more attractive font. I’m still having problems with one area of text on this page. It’s very annoying and I suspect I may have to delete the text/cell and redo it to get it to behave itself.

To my shame, I’ve still not added any links on my author’s page. I have a list of people to add, but as yet have not been able to get a run at it. I’ll have to make this a priority.

I didn’t do any writing this weekend – I spent most of it with my son, which was very nice. Although, he does insist that he want’s to go “asside” even though it’s pouring with rain. Needless to say, I have to find ways to distract him. Mr. Potato Head usually works well.

I've also started a blog group for authors of erotica at myspace. Anyone who dabbles in erotica is welcome to join

Public Performance

The setting has been called unpleasant and grubby and people have said that the unflushed toilets, graphitised walls and piss covered floors are a turn off, but I’ve also been told that it’s hot, hot, hot and that the characters seem very real.

“Public Performance” has been accepted for publication at Ruthie’s club, subject to the usual editing process, etc.

Here’s my initial teaser (although I have a sneaking suspicion that I might have to re-write this).

It’s Kenny’s twenty-first birthday party and his sexy, sultry, flirty girlfriend is putting on a show to remind him just how lucky he is. But when her flirting goes too far, Kenny loses his rag and the whole club stops to watch. But will the young lovers make it up and will Kenny get his hands on his special birthday treat?

And here’s a very brief extract that shows just how grubby and unpleasant the story really is.

He couldn’t face going into the packed dance hall where everyone would be staring at him. Instead, he went into the gents’ toilet. As nightclub toilets went, it wasn’t that bad. The floor was wet and muddy, and it reeked of stale urine, but there wasn’t anything nasty on the walls. He kicked open the nearest unoccupied cubicle and went inside.

“Fucking hell!” The smell hit him like a hammer. He looked in the bowl. “Fucking wanker! Bastard! Shit! Fuck man, how hard is it to flush the fucking bog!” He yanked the handle and, as the offending material flushed away, he abandoned the cubicle for one at the other end of the row. At least whoever had used this one last had the decency to clean up.

He locked the door and put the toilet seat down. He didn’t know how long he sat with his head in his hands, trying to gather his thoughts. He was more than a little drunk and found it hard to concentrate. He read the adverts scribbled on the wall—“For a good hard fuck, call Lucie on 07897 789546”. He wondered if she was the same Lucie he lived with—he didn’t recognise the number, but she had recently changed her phone. He read another. “I love to give blow jobs. Call Frank on 07775 216573”. That number he did recognise and he wouldn’t be calling it anytime soon. He shuddered at the thought of Frank sucking his cock.

Muggy

It’s Thursday. Nearly another whole week out of the way and another week where I’ve not achieved even close to half the things I wanted to get done. No website updates, hardly any blogging done, hardly any blogging read, and I can’t even blame Football Manager 2005 because I haven’t been playing that either. And it’s not like I’ve been snowed under at work, because I haven’t.

I don’t think the weather helps – it’s muggy and humid and hot and sticky and yet there’s almost no sun. We did manage to sit in the beer garden at the back of the pub across the road yesterday lunchtime to enjoy fish and chips and a pint, but that’s about it. Headache weather the girls in the office call it. They’re not wrong – I’m getting through Nurofen like nobody’s business.

Still, life goes on. I believe I now have a finished draft of “Private Party”. I’ll go over it once more today before submission. It topped out at nearly 4500 words and now has a stronger opening than before and more of the ‘inner voice’ during the sex scene, which the fishies at the tank told me they quite liked. I just hope I haven’t over done it. Short extract follows below.

I’ve also managed to follow up one of my outstanding submissions. “Public Performance” has been accepted by Ruthie’s Club. I’ll let you know the date for publication when I have it.

I haven’t heard from Phaze yet about “Charlotte’s Secret”. I know it’s only been ten days, but I’m forever an optimist. Its not on my calendar to follow up for another few days, but damn it, I’m an impatient bastard at times. On this occasion, however, I’ll have to wait.

From “Private Party”

Paul and Jack spent the evening trying out cheesy chat-up lines and collecting kisses from the female students. Jack pushed it too far with one of them and got a vodka and Coke thrown over his crotch. While Jack nipped back to his room to change his jeans, Paul started on the tequila. Paul and tequila had a history—to say they didn’t get along particularly well was an understatement of titanic proportions. “Mortal enemies” would be a better description. Normally, he didn’t touch the stuff, but Angela and two of her friends were slamming and they invited him to join in.

“Beat all three of us and I’ll snog you,” she offered.

Paul was never one to turn down a challenge anyway, but this time the prize on offer was definitely worth having. He tried to act cool, gulped down his nerves and said, “And if one of you beat me?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll think of something, won’t we girls? Best two out of three?”

“Okay, you’re on.”

Three glasses of the evil fire-water later, Paul and Angela were sitting on her bed, four rooms down from his, and he was cleaning her tonsils with his tongue. She tasted as good as he had imagined—like strawberries and vanilla ice-cream sprinkled with cinnamon. He had one hand on the back of her head and fondled her boobs with the other. When they eventually came up for air, all Paul could do to sit and stare.

Say something clever, said the voice in his head that had been drinking orange juice all night. This might be your only chance. Say something witty. Make it memorable.

“Angela, you’re fucking gorgeous, you know?”

Is that the best you could come up with? Fucking hell, I’m putting in for a transfer.

Angela stared back at him, her eyes twinkling like sapphires. She shook her head and her black hair fell around her shoulders. “You really think so?”

I can’t believe this. Worst line you’ve ever used with and it might actually work. Don’t fuck this up!

“God, yeah. You’re fucking top drawer.”

Angela’s smile widened. “I thought gentlemen preferred blondes?”

Careful. Careful. “Oh, they do.” Fuck! You’ve fucked it up, moron! “But I’m no gentleman.” Ohhh, good save

“That’s good. ‘Cause I’m no lady, either.” She threw herself at him, locking her lips to his. This time it was Paul’s tonsils that required cleaning. The little fella in his boxers sprang to life—at least brewer’s droop wasn’t going to be a problem.

I've been Phished

Last week I received an e-mail from Halifax Plc, one of the UK’s leading banks. It looked very official, even had the company number and registered office listed. The gist of the message was :

Halifax Online Banking Security Department has been receiving complaints from our customers for unauthorised uses of the Halifax Online Banking accounts. As a result we are temporarily shutting down some selected Halifax Online Banking Accounts perceived vulnerable to this, pending till the time we carry out proper verification by the account owner. Halifax Online Banking is committed to ensure the safeguard of each customer personal information, making sure only authorised individuals have access to their accounts

There was a link to click on to reactivate my account. Interestingly, this came to one of my Marc Nobbs e-mail addresses, which I wouldn’t consider using for online banking since it would be very difficult for Marc Nobbs to provide ID to open an account (what with not being real and everything). Added to that, the man behind the nym has never so much as set foot in a Halifax branch, let alone had an account with them.

Here is my, rather restrained, reply :

Dear Halifax,
Not only is Marc Nobbs a pseudonym used by myself to write erotic fiction - I don't even back with Halifax under my real name. In fact, I've never had an account with Halifax, or indeed with any of your subsidiaries.
If you are going to Phish, at least check you're doing it to,
a)real people and
b) Halifax customers.
I expect an apology forthwith,

Many Thanks,
Marc Nobbs.
www.marcnobbs.com

Funnily enough, I haven’t had a reply yet.

Google Ads

I’ve been using Googlemail and the message system at myspace for a while now and something just struck me. They scan the contents of the messages to place ‘appropriate’ adverts. And it’s unnerving sometimes how accurate they are to what you’re talking about.

Does anyone else find this disconerting? Or is it just me? Is Big Googrther really watching our every move? If I type, “Google is the bastard child of the devil”, will they send the thought police after me?

Gotta go, I think I hear someone trying to break down the door…

Clueless Men

This morning I jotted down a ‘roadmap’ for a new story idea. I wanted to capture it before is ran away out of reach. And after I’d finished, I thought, hmmm, the twins are a bit devious and scheming, but my male character is a little bit clueless.

That got me thinking – I’ve written a lot of ‘clueless’ men in recent years. Go back to “Reunion”. In that story, Matt was just sort of swept along with events. He reacts to things going on around him rather than being in control. Even in the sex parts it’s Kelly who seems to dominate (not the right word). She’s the one who decides when, where and how they ‘do it’.

In the first “Ladz”story, Gavin is utterly clueless. He shoots off in his pants when Laura strips in front of him for Christ’s sake. And in the second “Ladz”story, Jake is just out for a day in London and is bewitched by this girl on the train.

“Charlotte’s Secret” is perhaps the exception that proves the ‘rule’. In that story, David appears at first to be weak willed and reactionary, but he’s actually as cold and calculating and controlling as his wife. Though ultimately his is proven not to know everything and events get away from him.

In “Lost and Found”, Chris is swept along on Beth’s ride. He’s very much the passenger on this journey.

And so it is with stories I’ve recently finished or am in the process of writing. In “Public Performance”, Kenny is quite frankly, a bit of a moron. Harry, from “Six-thirty sleeper to Paris” is similarly bewitched by a beautiful woman until he no longer has any control of his situation. In “The Method”, the main conflict in the story comes from the germ of doubt in the reader’s mind that Chloe is deceiving Adam.

So, the question has to be – is it me? What does my portrayal of male characters say about me, if anything? Or is it my portrayal of strong, confident yet vulnerable women that says more? I not entirely sure I want answers to those questions to be honest.

Submissions Update

Over the weekend I received back the edits for “Six-Thirty Sleeper to Paris” from Nat at Ruthie’s. I’ve got to say that I’m impressed – that’s about the quickest I’ve ever had a set of edits back. And they’re not to shabby either. I was expecting some issues with the French in the story, but for the most part it’s been fine. There have been two notes from Nat about the French and one translation from French to English – but most of his notes were about the plot or slight inconsistencies with the characters. All good if it makes the story better.

The issues with the French are the interesting ones to me. He asked to change “Faites-vous aiment?” to “Do you like it?”, which I can understand. It’s not ‘common’ French, by which I mean it’s not something I’d expect most English speakers to know and it’s also an important point in the story. Second, “Les chaussures du merde.” Literally this is “The Shoes of Shit” although my wife tells me this is how the French would say “Shit shoes.” In fact, she says that in French pretty much anything can be “Du merde.” Either way, I’ve changed it to “J’ai mal à mes pieds. Les chaussures sont merde” meaning “My feet ache. These shoes are shit.” Which I think reads better anyway.

The final one is my use of the word “pluke”, which doesn’t show up in the on-line dictionaries, but which my wife uses all the time. It refers to the lowest of the low, the real dregs of society. I asked her about it and it turns out it’s a regional thing – used a lot in the north of France but not so much elsewhere. My character is a Parisian, so I’ve switched to con, meaning idiot but equally derogatory.

I don’t have a date for the publication of the story yet, but when I do, I’ll be sure to post it here.

Also this weekend I heard from Alessia Brio over at Phaze. She’s editing an anthology that I’d submitted “Charlotte’s Secret” to. It was “coming together for the cure” with all proceeds going to breast cancer research. I knew I was pushing it when I submitted, because “Charlotte’s Secret” is at the very top of the word limit for the anotho (just over it in fact). A few weeks ago, when I followed up the sub, Alessia asked if I’d mind submitting the story for regular publication at Phaze if she passed it over for the antho. I said that of course I wouldn’t mind. In fact, I’d be delighted. This weekend she confirmed that she is passing over the story, in favour a greater number of shorter stories – which makes sense to me – and that she has put the story forward for regular publication. I’ve no idea how long it will take to get a decision either way, but I’ll keep you informed here.

Website

I’ve made a few changes to my websitethat you may like to look at. I’ve added details of all my published stories and works in progress. I’ve not been able to add links to them all yet – that’s next on the list – but it does look nice.

I’ve also changed the colour of the linked text from a dark purple to a light blue. It was hard to read before on my dark background.

I had hoped to add links to other authors etc this weekend, but ran out of time – my son just won’t seem to leave me alone at weekends, not that I’m complaining.

Take a look. Let me know what you think.

Oh, and I’m still on the lookout for any other authors who’d like their website/myspace linked to. Just drop me a message and I’ll add you when I get around to doing that page.

Busy couple of Days

Isn’t it strange how you sometimes just get bitten by the bug and feel compelled to write? That’s what happened to me over the past couple of days.

Firstly, as I’ve already said, “Six thirty Sleeper” was accepted at Ruthie’s. Big Yay! I really do like that story. Second, I posted a revised revision of “Public Performance” in the Tank, got some excellent suggestions, and I’ve already completed a final draft and sent it off to Neil for his appraisal. I’ll let you know when I hear back. I’ll be interested to know if all the grossness of the public toilets leads to a Ruthie’s let down due to lack of eroticism.

I’ve also finished a first draft of what started out as a sister story to “Public Performance”. That no longer seem appropriate so I changed the names of the characters and it then morphed and went in a direction I wasn’t expecting. Seriously, anyone who thinks they know me will get little shock when they read this. I shouldn’t think the story quite rates a “caution” tag, but for me it’s definitely a departure. It’s only a first draft, and I’ll run it through the tank in due course. It reads more like a scene that a fully developed story at the moment and I need to find a way to remedy that.

I’ve also half written another story, this time retuning to the “Ladz Local Lovelies” brand. I’m not saying anymore about that until it’s finished apart from one word – “Lift” (“Elevator” for those across the pond). I’m hoping I can finish this one quite quickly too. Then, maybe, if I’ve got all these shorts out of my system, I can turn to Chloe again and get on writing “The Method”. I’m still not sure what I’m going to do with that story when it’s finished. I know that Ruthie’s have accepted stories of that length in the past (indeed one finished just last week), but I’d kinda like to take it to an e-pub too. Then again, I can always take it to and e-pub after its six-month stint at Ruthie’s (assuming they accept it, which they might not). I hate making decisions – I guess that’s why at work I’m the lackey and not the boss.

Anyway, here’s a little something for you. Mat suggested that the blowjob scene in “Public Performance” was a little quick. So I expanded it. Warning – the following extract contains adult material. (the blue bit is all new)

“I don’t know. With how worked up you were earlier, I don’t think it would take long. Let’s see, shall we?” She slowly unbuckled his belt. His button fly jeans offered no resistance when she ripped them open. Kenny’s hard cock was already making a tent in his boxers. Jessica popped open the buttons and freed it. She never took her eyes from his as she feasted. She licked and sucked and scraped along his shaft with her teeth. Her head moved back and forth, taking more of his cock into her mouth each time until her nose nestled in his pubic hair and his cock lodged in her throat. She massaged his scrotum, squeezing his balls gently and making him moan. In short order, Kenny felt his orgasm build. He held her head and gently thrust into her mouth. His cock nudged her throat and his balls slapped against her chin. When it came, his release was an untapped well and he flooded her mouth. As she always did, Jessica swallowed all he had to offer. She removed his cock from her mouth, stroked it and licked her lips. “Stay hard for me?”

Normal Service

After this weekend “press release” style blog entry, normal service is resumed today. You may have noticed that “Breakfast at Ruthie’s” finally went on sale at the weekend. I’ve received quite a few messages over the past couple of weeks enquiring about the book, so I’m hopeful that they’ll translate into sales.

You may also have noticed that my MySpace profile has undergone a minor makeover with the pic from “Breakfast” cover as the new background. I’ve left my blog background alone because, apparently, some people quite like looking at the nipple. I plan to make more changes to the profile as well, but that’s not a priority at the moment.

The main priority is completing the makeover of marcnobbs.com. It’s underway, with new graphics, but click around it and you’ll see that there are a few areas that I still need to add to.

One of them is the page that links to other authors. If anyone would like to be added to this page, please contact me via MySpace message or e-mail and I’ll gladly add you. Just give me the URL and a quick sentence or two of self-promotion and we’ll be happy bunnies both.

Couple of other things to report. First, Ruthie’s Club have accepted my story “Six-Thirty Sleeper to Paris” on the condition that the smattering of French within it stands up to editing, which is a fair point. It’d be daft to publish a story where the foreign language within it was a mess. It should be okay though, I’ve picked up a fair bit of French from my darling wife (who, for those of you who don’t know, IS French) and anything I wasn’t sure about I asked her to check for me.

Second, I posted a revised revision of “Public Performance” in the tank on Friday and I’ve been delighted with the reaction to it. I’ve got one or two issues to look at that have been raised by the reviewers, but top and bottom of it is that the story is just about ready for submission.

And Finally. It’s bloody freezing here today. My fingers are like blocks on ice and I’m having real difficulty typing. Thank God for “right-click” spell-check. Does anyone have any thermal gloves I could borrow? And what the F**k happened to summer?

Breakfast at Ruthie's

You can now purchase your copy of "Breakfast at Ruthie's" from my Lulu store. "Breakfast at Ruthie's" is a collection of five hot tales, each of which was first published at "Ruthie's Club".

The book is available in three formats, a 6" x 9" paperback edition, a 4" x 7" pocket paperback edition and a 6" x 9" Hardback edition. Prices are £7.50 for the paperbacks and £13.50 for the Hardback. (Price in US$ and Euros will vary with exchange rates but is currently $13.50/€11 for the paperbacks and $24.50/€20 for the Hardback)

"Breakfast at Ruthie's" contains these stories.

Scratched - Carol drinks a little too much while her husband and his friend talk business over dinner. She decides to take a slow walk back to the car to try and clear her head. What she finds when she gets there surprises her. How she reacts surprises her even more.

Measuring up – Mike is tired of dinner parties. They seem to be nothing but an endless merry-go-round of idle chitchat, new world wines, and experimental cooking. But his newest work colleague has a different idea of the perfect evening.

LADZ Local Lovelies #56 Laura – Laura wants Gavin. Gavin hardly even notices Laura's alive because he's always got his nose buried in an issue of Ladz magazine. But Laura has a plan—if Gavin's dream is to fuck one of the Ladz "Local Lovelies", she'll just have to become one herself.

LADZ Local Lovelies #58 Emma – Jake takes a train trip to London on a glorious spring day and realises he seen the young lady sitting opposite him before. What he doesn't know is that Emma is one of Ladz "Local Lovelies", and since appearing in Britain's leading lad's magazine in nothing but her undies, her life hasn't taken the path she expected.

Divine Interview (with Cassie Exline) – Dana Rubeck grasps the opportunity to interview her favorite author of erotic fiction at his mansion on the outskirts of her hometown. But, disarmed by his rich British voice and natural charm, she allows him to show her that he doesn't only write about great sex.

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While you've got your credit card out, why not pick up a copy of "Two Ks and No Space" and "Reunion" ?

Don’t cha just luv Myspace?

Yesterday, at around 3 in the afternoon, by a curious quirk of fate, I had three friend requests from three attractive looking young ladies, two blondes and a brunette, all of whom were named Kayla, although one of them spelt it differently. As you do, I had a quick look at their profiles before deciding if I should accept their kind invitation to be friends.

It turns out that all three of them were 19 year old student nurses from a place called So Cal which sounds as if it may be in the Far East. But that wasn’t the only thing that these three lovelies had in common. All three of them described themselves as “permanently horny”. Maybe that’s why they want to be friends? Perhaps they like the idea of befriending an author of erotic fiction (I don’t like the term Erotic Author – it makes it sound like I’m the one that’s erotic and anyone who’s seen me will know that’s not the case) who will be able to aid their horniness with his words.

Also, all three Kaylas were very disappointed that MySpace didn’t allow them to post ‘naughty pictures’ of themselves, but kindly provided a link to a site where, for a small monthly fee, I could see many such pictures of them and other similarly minded young ladies. I could even see them ‘perform’ on webcam, whatever that means. Perhaps they are singers or actors and would like my critical opinion as a fellow artist, albeit in a somewhat different field.

I thought it strange that I be contacted by three 19 year old student nurses from this strange So Cal place on the same day, so I investigated a bit more (I fancy myself a modern day Sherlock Holmes. Or maybe a male Jessica Fletcher). I opened all three profiles in tabs in Firefox and do you know what I found out? Aside from the pictures of the Kaylas and the backgrounds, the three profiles were identical. Even down to the placing of the slideshows and list of favourite TV shows. Remarkable. Perhaps I should introduce these three beauties. They are bound to get along well what with having so much in common and all.

Tuesday Smile

I came across this on, of all places, the BBC 606 boards for my local (well, they were local when I used to live there) football club (Who incidentally have just been sold by the owner for £10. Some people say that £9.99 too much, but I think it's a bargin).
Anyhoo - I found this yesterday when I was feeling miserable and it made me smile, so I thought I'd share. The original poster swears they are genuine (he claims to work for the council in question - which is Wolverhampton since you didn't ask).

1. My bush is really overgrown round the front and my back passage
has fungus growing in it.
2. He's got this huge tool that vibrates the whole house and I just can't take it anymore.
3. It's the dog mess that I find hard to swallow.
4. I want some repairs done to my cooker as it has backfired and burnt my k**b off.
5. I wish to complain that my father hurt his ankle very badly then he put his foot in the hole in his back passage.
6. And their 18 year old son is continually banging his balls against my fence.
7. I wish to report that tiles are missing from the outside toilet roof. I think it was bad wind the other night that blew them off.
8. My lavatory seat is cracked, where do I stand?
9. I am writing on behalf of my sink, which is coming away from the wall.
10. Will you please send someone to mend the garden path? My wife tripped and fell on it yesterday and now she is pregnant.
11. I request permission to remove my drawers in the kitchen.
12. 50% of the walls are damp, 50% have crumbling plaster and 50% are plain filthy.
13. I am still having problems with smoke in my new drawers.
14. The toilet is blocked and we cannot bath the children until it is cleared.
15. Will you please send a man to look at my water, it is a funny colour and not fit to drink.
16. Our lavatory seat is broken in half and is now in three pieces.
17. I want to complain about the farmer across the road; every morning at 6am his c*(k wakes me up and its now getting too much for me.
18. The man next door has as large erection in the back garden, which is unsightly and dangerous.
19. Our kitchen floor is damp. We have two children and would like a third, so please send someone round to do something about it.
20. I am a single woman living in a downstairs flat and would you please do something about the noise made by the man on top of me

Keeping it Straight

I find that one of the biggest problems with writing 'longer' stories, is keeping everything straight in your head so that you don't contradict yourself at some point. Of course, it depends on the complexity of the story as to what you need to do to keep things straight. For example, with "Charlotte Secret" the plot, the characters and their histories were such that I had to write a timeline going back nearly two years before the story began – this so that I could get the timings right in respect of the various coupling, weddings and pregnancies that led to the situation that David and Charlotte find themselves in as we first meet them.

On the other hand, whilst "Lost and Found" was a longer story, it was far less complicated. In fact, I spent most of the time I spent on that story that wasn't actually writing it, was spent researching things like flights and working on the authenticity (it's quite hard of an ignorant Brit like me to paint a convincing picture if small town USA).

With "The Method" it's different again. Yes, I have a timeline drawn up, but that's more of an aid memoir then an essential – it helps me get things like the Oscar ceremony taking place at the right time of year. However, my biggest difficulty has been keeping track of the fictional Celebrity world I've had to create as a background to the story. Chloe is meant to be a global movie star. So she'll have a filmography, right? And the other, non-celeb characters will mention her films from time to time, right? And Chloe will have friends who are Celebs, right? And she'll mention them or talk to them or actually meet them from time to time, right?

So I've got two files open, one listing all the films she's been in that have been mentioned in the text, and another to do the same for other celebs, and both of them have the necessary notes so that I know what the other characters think of the films/people.

Now, I was going to post an example, but to do that I'll have to cut out the notes, which would be far less interesting? Why? Posting the notes will give away the ending of course. Anyway, here are some of the films mentioned in the text so far. The last film appears with kind permission of one H.L.Berry.

E	Films Made	Film Type	Part played
15	Until Midnight	Horror	Sally
16	Don't Say Goodbye	Romantic	Jilly
16	High School Hell	Drama	Jasmine
17	To Eternity and Back	Romantic	Ruth
17	Charlotte's Secret	Drama	Jakki
18	Reunion	Drama	Young Kelly
19	Tutoring Sophie	Drama	Sophie
19	Nightgirl – The Movie	Action	Abbi/Nightgirl

Monday Moan

It’s Monday again, and I’ve got a list of moans as long as something very long indeed. In fact, it’s such a long list, that if I were to write it down, it’d be Tuesday and I’d have wasted a day and have something else to moan about. Instead, let’s stick to the main gripes shall we.

Such as, why do people think that you can have building work done without creating a mess? We’re having the dividing wall between us and next door re-built as it’s in a very bad way, and they are also going to put some rather attractive railings on it to stop my son from falling down the 5foot drop to next door (we live on a hill). As you can imagine, as the old bricks have to be removed before the new ones are put in place, it gets a bit dusty. And both my wife and neighbour are moaning, hence I’m moaning. I’m assured by the builder that they will clean it all up when they have finished with ‘brick acid”, which supposedly cleans the bricks in the driveway up nicely. And I’ve even said that if the neighbour isn’t satisfied I’ll pressure wash it myself for him. He’s still moaning though.

Second, I almost successfully managed to avoid the news programmes on the TV yesterday, but was unfortunate enough to catch the “Headlines” on channel 5 while waiting for a film to start. And do you know what the “top story” was? No? I’ll tell you. The father of the little girl abducted in Portugal is flying back to the UK for 24 hours to deal with some “personal matters”. What? This isn’t news. This is what you’d expect someone who’s been out of the country for nearly a month to do. Are the media really so hyped about this story that they have to tell us things like this? Surely this is his “personal and private” business. Tell us about the case, by all means. Tell us when they’ve found her, or if they arrest someone, but there’s no need to tell us what her parents are doing 24/7. Leave them be, for God’s sake – don’t you think they have enough on their plates without worrying about what the papers might say if he flies back home to pay a few bills and check the house hasn’t fallen down. I’ll say it again, just in case the media wasn’t listening the first time – Leave them alone!

Of course, all this is just fluff. The real reason I’m in such a foul mood is lack of a good night’s sleep. My son is trying to push through a couple of those nasty molars, and during the day, when he’s occupied, he’s fine but come night-time, when Daddy wants to sleep, it’s a different story. I’m miserable and grouchy and it seems that my temper is bubbling just beneath the surface. And this has been going on for a couple of weeks now. What I need is a weekend away, where I can lie in bed until noon undisturbed. Either that or I’m going to snap and take it out on someone who doesn’t deserve it. Unless you can think of someone who does deserve it. Any suggestions? Come on, I’m ready to really rip into someone, just give a name. A name God damn it. A name!

I think I need another cup of tea.

The Method

You may or may not remember that I'm currently about half-way through writing a story which began life with the title "Little Miss Movie Star" and has since morphed into "The Method".
The reason for the title change is that I want to try and work the idea of our main character being a 'method actor' into the story to try and create a bit of ambiguity about her. I want the reader to be not entirely sure if he can trust Chloe or not.

To do this I’ve had to rewrite portions of what I’ve already got in order to introduce method acting and its meaning in the context of this story.

Below is one of those scenes. I’ll need someone to keep referring back to method acting, and that will be Kim. Chloe might mention it herself in passing, but it’s Kim who will be the voice of doubt for the reader. That said, I don’t want to reiterate it to often. I want the concept to be nagging thought in the back of the reader’s mind, not the over-riding impression of Chloe.

*****

Over lunch, Adam agreed to meet up with Kim and her flatmates for drinks that afternoon. His flatmates agreed to go along too. They met in the Student’s Union, which was much quieter than the first time Adam had visited.

“Oh, thank God!” said Kim.

“What’s up?” asked Eddy.

“Little Miss Movie Star isn’t here.”

“You mean Goodman?”

“Yeah. I can’t stand her. Attention grabbing little slut. You know that Adam and I have been landed with her in our tutor group?”

Eddy looked at Adam with shock. “You didn’t tell us that.”

“I only found out today. Besides, it’s not really a big deal. Is it? I know she’s a decent actress and stuff, but it’s not like she’s anyone really important.”

“Decent actress?” said Kim. “Are you serious? Have you seen ‘Don’t Say Goodbye’?”

“It was really bad,” said Shanna. “But it was the script more than her acting. She proved what she can do in “To Eternity and Back”. Adam, are you going to invite her over the flat for coffee sometime?”

“Not if you’re going to fawn over her, no.”

“I promise not to.”

“Okay.”

“I wouldn’t bother,” said Kim. “She won’t go.”

“I still don’t know what she’s doing at university. I mean, she must be taking time off from making movies and that’s got be costing her a fortune,” said Eddy.

“I suppose you get to a point where you have so much money that making more of it becomes less important,” said Adam.

“I have a theory,” said Kim. “I think I know why she’s here.”

“Come then,” said Eddy. “Spill.”

“Well, she’s a method actor, isn’t she?” Kim looked around the table as if that explained everything.

“Yeah, and?” said Eddy.

“It’s what they do, isn’t it? They go and experience what it’s like to be the character they are going to play so that they can empathise and emote. She’s probably landed a role as a student in some shitty film and needs to pretend to be a real student for while so that she can play it.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Shanna, “Actors don’t do things like that.”

“Method actors do. You know Bobby Brandon, the fat American? Well, apparently, when he had to play a chef, he went to work in a professional kitchen for a fortnight to see what it was like. And when Michelle Phillips made ‘Escape from Ghetto High’ she went to work at an inner-city school in New York first.”

“That’s bull. All the kids would have recognised her,” said Eddy.

“No, they didn’t. She went in disguise. The movie people made her a prosthetic mask and stuff.”

“There is another theory,” said Adam.

“And what’s that?” said Shanna.

“She’s on my course, yeah? English and The Classics. My theory is that she came across The Classics through her acting, fell in love with them and actually wants to study them.”

“Nah,” said Eddy, “I prefer Kim’s theory.”

“That’s because it’s right,” said Kim. “I’ll bet it’s what Goodman is doing. In fact, I’ll bet any money that within a couple of weeks she’ll have found herself nice, normal boyfriend, boff him for a couple of months and then dump him just before she’s due to start making the movie.”

“Well, if she’s only after a good humping, then I hope she picks me,” said Eddy. “That’ll be something to tell the grandkids, that will.”

“I can see you now,” said Adam. “You’ll be sitting in your rocking chair on the patio, with a woollen blanket wrapped around your legs, saying, “No, really kids, I did. I humped Chloe Goodman.” I can imagine their reply as well.”

See, that’s what’s wrong with the country.

It appears that today, Britain will have a new Prime Minister elect, without a single vote being cast by anyone, not even members of his own damn party.

This is a disgrace!

After the triumph of democracy that was the French presidential elections, with a whopping 85% turnout to chose the new leader, we in Britain go to the opposite extreme, with a zero percent turnout, due simply to the fact that we have been denied the opportunity.

I cannot express just how disillusioned I am with my country at the moment. We already have a sensationalist media which makes newspapers impossible to read and TV news impossible to watch, and now this. And what is the media doing about this travesty? Nothing, they are too busy complaining that the laws in Portugal deny them free access to all that is happening in an ongoing police investigation into that missing toddler, while blaming everyone from the girl’s parents to the hotel owners for her abduction. That and printing pictures of super-skinny celebs.

Could someone find out when the next flight out of here is? I need to go and pack my bags.

It’s Thursday again, where’s the bloody week gone?

I don’t know if it’s because I’m getting older, or because I have so much to do, but time seems have accelerated in recent weeks. I suspect it’s the latter. I’m having one of those periods where you have a list of tasks longer than the long and winding road and every single one of them is mega-important and needs to be done NOW! So you find yourself having to decide which one you can put off until tomorrow, and before you know it, it’s not only tomorrow, it’s next week. Then next week turns into the week after and the deadline is on the horizon. Then the deadline is tomorrow and you have to drop everything and do that thing you would normally have done straight away, meaning that something else gets pushed to tomorrow… you get the idea.

On the other hand, if it is my age, I now understand why old folks can sit in the same chair all day without getting bored. I mean, when you’re knocking on a bit, if time really does go faster, then watching an hour of “Cash in the Attic” or “The Antiques Roadshow” will only seem like a 30 second commercial anyway.

To business. I’ve got a couple of subs to follow up this week/weekend/when I get around to it. One of them has been in the mix for a couple of months now, but the deadline isn’t until June (I think). I would like to know, but I can understand why they haven’t made a decision on it yet. Would still like to follow it up though, just to see.

I’ve done a second draft of my story “Public Performance”. I’ll be posting it as a revision in the Tank later today. It is still very much a draft—in this version I think I’ve addressed most of the major issues that were brought up with the last draft, but I’d like to look again at a few smaller specifics before I think about subbing it.

And finally we’re just two weeks away now from the release of “Breakfast at Ruthie’s”.

Petrol/Diesel Prices

This is a MySpace bulletin doing the round at the moment. All I can say is that if you think $3 is high, try paying the $7 per gallon that we have to pay in the UK. And most if not all of that difference in price goes to the taxman.

So please, stop moaning!

On the other hand, maybe we Brits could do the same. Although, I don't think as a nation it's really our sort of thing is it?

--------------

NO GAS...On May 15th 2007 Don't pump gas on MAY 15th In April 1997, there was a "gas out" conducted nationwide in protest of gas prices. Gasoline prices dropped 30 cents a gallon overnight. On May 15th 2007, all internet users are to not go to a gas station in protest of high gas prices. Gas is now over $3.00 a gallon in mos t places. There are 73,000,000+ American members currently on the internet network, and the average car takes about 30 to 50 dollars to fill up. If all users did not go to the pump on the 15th, it would take $2,292,000,000.00 (that's almost 3 BILLION) out of the oil companies pockets for just one day, so please do not go to the gas station on May 15th and lets try to put a dent in the Middle Eastern oil industry for at least one day. If you agree (which I can't see why you wouldn't) Repost this on the bulletin!! ''Don't pump gas on May 15th"

What a Week!

Well, what a manic couple of weeks that’s been. It’s always the same around this time of year. The firm I work for has its financial year end at the end of April and there’s a ton of work to do to report on it, a flurry of activity from fee earners as they bill all their matters to try and hit their targets. Actually, this year we’ve had one fee earner who’s billed exactly his target amount. Not just over, or just under, but exactly the amount. One of the partners asked me if I thought he was cheating.

What makes it a particularly busy time is that I have to keep the cash office ticking over as I would do normally. That means there are still cheques to pay in/out, electronic funds transfers to deal with and other people calculations to correct, I mean check. This April/May have seen a lot of activity in the house market too as people try and move before the governments HIPs (Home Information Pack) scheme comes into force which will make it more expensive to sell your house.

But anyway, things are a bit quieter now and I have a bit of time to blog. I’ve got some catching up to do, but I live in hope of a couple of slow days so that I can do that without too much trouble.

On to other matters. Blair has gone. Well, nearly. We’ve got another two months or so to put up with him then he’s out of here. I won’t be sorry to see him go—I’ve never trusted the man, even as far back as when he first took control of Labour. It was the clause 4 moment that did it for me. Many people saw it as him modernising his part. I saw it as a desperate attempt to gain power by turning his back on what most people in his party believed. Still, we’ve got a few years of Gordon to look forward to now. That should be fun. Not. If the man’s got any decency he’ll call an early election to gain a mandate of his own (or get kicked out altogether). But somehow I think he’ll hang on until the last possible moment.

More importantly to me, and more excitingly, Wolves have made the playoffs! Yes!!! Get in!!!! I don’t normally talk about footy in this blog, but I’m making an exception today. At the start of the season, with no manager and no money, we were tipped for relegation. But Mick McCarthy has done a great job and we might even be going up. Of course, we have to get past the Baggies first, and then a trip to the new Wembley awaits. We can but dream.

On the erotica front, I’ve been too tired in the evenings to do much writing. I have managed to go over one story making small pre-submission changes. That went off yesterday. I’ll keep you posted over its acceptance or lack thereof. I’ve also started a second draft of another story, but not got very far. I’ll have at it over the weekend and maybe I can get that subbed next week sometime.

Finally – I have a release date for “Breakfast at Ruthie’s”. It will go on sale via my Lulu store on 1 June 2007. That’s three weeks from today. Prices are currently set at £7.50 for the two paperback editions, £13.50 for the hardback and £3 for a digital edition. Although, I may be tempted to reduce the cover price as a launch week special offer. I haven’t made my mind up about that yet.

Six-thirty Sleeper to Paris

As promised, here's an excerpt from one of the stories I've been working on - "Six-thirty Sleeper to Paris". This is a totally new scene to the story since it when through the fishtank. More accurately, this scene was originally a single paragraph.

An announcement interrupted them. Dinner was about to be served to first class passengers in the dining car. Harry looked at his watch. It was seven-thirty. Where had the last hour gone? He asked Celine to join him for dinner. She eagerly agreed. They continued to talk over the meal. Harry was having a lovely time. Not only was Celine a stunning looking woman, but she was great company too. Dinner lasted for almost two hours. By the time they returned to their cabin, it was almost half-past nine.

But as you can see, it's a lot more than that now. I like it because it shows us a bit more of Celine's character, but also because it ties in directly with the new ending. Enjoy.
=====
An announcement interrupted them. Dinner was about to be served to first class passengers in the dining car. Harry looked at his watch. It was seven-thirty. Where had the last hour gone?

He looked at Céline. “Join me for dinner? My treat.”

“It is being my pleasure, ‘Arry.” She smiled—a wide smile that could have illuminated the Eiffel Tower.

When they were seated in the dining car, they ordered food and wine from the small menu. The wine was brought directly and the food followed in short order.

“Good service,” said Harry as he laid his napkin across his lap.

Céline huffed. “In my experience, if food is arriving quickly, then it is prepared before and zapped in the microwave. Good food takes a long time to make.”

Harry already had a mouthful of pasta. He swallowed and then said, “I don’t know. This isn’t bad. Sauce is nice, chicken’s well cooked, pasta’s not underdone. I’ve had worse.”

Céline watched Harry shovel another forkful of food into his mouth and muttered, “Les Anglais mangent comme des cochons.”

She laid her own napkin on her lap and picked up her fork. Harry watched with mild amusement as she pushed some pieces of pasta around her plate before spearing one on the fork. She lifted it and opened her mouth just wide enough to get the food in. The pasta brushed her lips, leaving a trail of cheese sauce behind. She closed her lips around the fork and slipped it out, leaving the pasta behind. She chewed slowly and after she’d swallowed, she licked her lips clean with the tip of her tongue. Harry shivered.

She picked up another piece of pasta on her fork and held it in front of her. “‘Arry, I think you have been spending too much time en Italie eating ze pasta and ze pizza. Your pallet has suffered, non? You can no longer tell what is good food and what is not. En France, we are serving better food than this in our prisons and our schools, non?”

Harry shrugged. “Like I said, I’ve had worse.”

Céline ate another delicate mouthful of food and then said, “I know what to do ‘Arry. When we are both settled in Paris, I will take you to my preferred restaurant. Then you will know what is good food.”

The next few moments passed quietly as they ate. Finally, Céline said, “So, ‘Arry. Are you telling me about your American girl? Or am I making up my own story?”

Harry smiled and thought for a second. What harm could it do? Chances were he’d never see Céline again after they got to Paris and Céline would certainly never meet his fiancé. “Her name is Ruth.”

“Ruth is a nice name.”

“We met about a month after I moved to Rome, so we’ve been together for nearly three years now.”

“You are still together? Are you in love with her?”

“I think I am. I don’t know if she still loves me, though. Last time I spoke to her, she was still adamant she didn’t want to move to Paris. I don’t even know if we are still engaged. She hasn’t given me the ring back, so I guess we must be.”

“You are getting married? That’s wonderful. Félicitations.”

“Like I said, I don’t know. It’s been nearly a week since I last spoke with her. I tried to call her before I got on the train, but she didn’t answer her phone.”

“This is bad. I think you should be trying harder to move her to Paris when we arrive. Paris is a wonderful place for a girl to live. Le shopping, le cuisine, le ambiance.”

“You’re right, of course. I should try harder. So what about you? Any special men in your life?”

“Only mon Papa. I am young and at liberty. C’est magnifique.”

They continued to talk over the meal and by the time they returned to their cabin, it was almost half-past nine.

Poem (but not by me)

I just wanted to direct a few folks towards this poem by Je ne sais pas... , which I think a really sweet exploration of a couple’s first time.

The Queen

An unusual one today, although if I get a sec I might write a second entry, but I wanted those who might not otherwise see this to see it.

To mark HM Queen Elizabeth II's state visit to the US later this month, a portrait by photographer Annie Leibovitz has been issued. And here it is.



I think it's one of the better one's of Her Majesty in recent years.

Well that's good, looks like it's too wide to view on blogger. View on my Myspace blog instead

There once was an ugly duckling

Yesterday on Mat's blog I mentioned pictures of some ducks I took while in France over Easter. Here they are.

Life' s gone a bit mad

Why is it that when one aspect of your life finds calm waters, another always finds a storm?
I have essentially three aspects to my life. There's my home life, which at the moment is just fine thank you very much. My little family unit (me, my wife and our son) have our ups and downs but on the whole, I've got very little to complain about in that department.
Then there's my online life - his one, my blog, website and, of course, my writing. They say good writers are also good readers, but there is so much to read at the moment that I feel as if I'll never get through it all. I don't seem to have time to take part in the fishtank - I haven't even been able to respond to points in individual reviews of last story there, which I feel awful about. I did a general response, but it's not the same.
Then there's my subscribed blogs at myspace - there seems to have been hundreds of posts this past weekend. If I start at the bottom and work my way up, it'll take all bloody day. Same goes for Soulcast. And as for actually finding time to read other authors offerings - hah, you're having a larff, int ya?
Of course, the main reason for my lack of online time is the third area of my life. Work. April sees the end of our financial year, which is always hectic. Our fee earners always see fit to leave it until the last second to bill the work they have done in a mad attempt to hit their targets and earn their bonuses. These invoices come up to me in accounts for checking, processing and posting to the computer system. Normally, I'd expect 5-10 bills a day to be a lot. Friday I did over fifty - ten times my normal amount. God knows how many I'll get today and tomorrow.
On top of that we have a quarterly interest run on client's monies, bank account to be reconciled and hundreds of reports to produce. That's in addition to the conveyancing side of the business going mad as people rush to buy/sell before the government bring in HIPs later this year. (Home information packs - Don't ask). And, as usual, none of the computers work properly and so I have to rush around trying to show people how to do such difficult things as print and open documents (okay, I'm exaggerating, but I'm allowed - I'm a bloke).
This week I hope to be able to post two extracts from stories I'm working on. One will be from "Six-thirty Sleeper to Paris" and is a brand new scene from the middle of the story. The other will be an extended scene from "The Method" (formally Little Miss Movie Star) which shows a snippet of how I now plan to use the character "Kim".
I would also like to post a couple of recent photos I've taken of my garden (if I get time to upload them to Flickr) including the very fist radish of the season, fresh from the ground! And very tasty it was too.

I've been working!

Recently, I've actually been doing some writing. Wonders will never cease! At the weekend I read through what I've written so far in my "Little Miss Movie Star" story. I'd reached a point where I didn't know if I needed or indeed wanted to include a particular scene, which is why I stalled. I could have written the scene and then deleted it in the edit, but they may have left me with a hole in the story. Instead I found a way to get across the important information that would have been in the scene, and at the same time include a smooth(ish) transition to the next important part of the story. I'm quite pleased with what I've been able to do there. Now I need to get on with it and drive the story forwards. I know where it's going, and I know how to get there, I just need some keyboard time, that's all.

Regular readers of this blog will know that I've been dissatisfied with the title to this story ever since it was conceived. I've think I've found a solution that not only sounds cool (IMHO) but could also influence me to make minor changes to one of the characters.

I'm toying with the idea of calling the story "The Method" which is a reference to "Method Acting". Most people I've spoken to regard method acting as when an actor 'becomes' the character they are playing, or where actors go and try out what it's like to live as the character. According to Wikipedia, the definition of method acting is slightly different to this, but I think I'll play on people's perceptions or, more importantly, the perceptions of the characters within my story.

What I want to do is to make the 'other woman' in the story, Kim, act as the voice of the reader in expression concerns over Chloe's motivations, in particular the belief that Chloe may be researching a part she is going to play because she is a 'method actor'.

I don't need Kim to ram these opinions down the reader's throat, but if she expresses them at two or three occasions throughout the story, it should be enough to plant a seed of doubt in the reader's mind over Chloe. Obviously, I can't tell you if Kim is right or not – it would spoil the story.

I've also picked up a story I put through the fishtank in October last year. It's been sitting on my hard drive since I amended it based on fishtank comments because I wasn't sure if I wanted to develop it into a much longer story or not. Then Chloe came along and everything else sort of got forgotten about.

I've been through the story and made a few significant changes to the characters and, importantly, to the ending and added a new scene. I now feel the whole thing is much more satisfying. I just need to go through it a couple more times, once to give it a thoroughly good edit and once more to deal with the formatting. Then I can get it subbed and see what Ruthie's make of it.