Head Rambles

Grandad February 26th, 2008

There seems to be a lot of interest in The Book.

I call it The Book, because it doesn’t actually have a title yet.

So far, I have done written interviews for Damien Mulley, and the Evening Herald.  I believe Declan Burke is going to mention it this evening on The Last Word on TodayFM.  There is also supposed to be an article in next Friday’s Irish Daily Mail, by Sinéad Gleeson.  It also got a mention in this months edition of PCLive.

I am very grateful to all the above and I am very flattered.

My problem is that really I don’t know what I’m talking about.

I was originally approached by Mercier Press, last year and was asked if I would like to write a book.  I had never written one before and had never considered it.  It was a bit daunting.

The original idea was to do a compendium of posts - a sort of "Best of Head Rambles".  But by the time I had weeded out the too topical, the insane, the libelous and the blasphemous, I was left with about two pages.  I think Mercier expected a bit more than that?

So the idea of the novel was born.  And a novel is a different thing altogether from writing a blog.  A novel requires characters, plots, a start, middle and an end.  It requires a storyline, and all of this has to be worked out in advance.

Now comes the really tricky bit..  People are asking questions about the novel. 

They are asking what it is called.  I don’t know that yet.  I have a few ideas, but I have to discuss them with the publisher first. 

They are asking what type of novel it is.  That is a tricky one.  I would like to think it is humorous.  It isn’t a thriller because there are only a few explosions in it.  It isn’t a murder mystery, though there are a few deaths, and a murder trial.  It isn’t a romance, though there is a bit of romance in it.  I don’t really know how to describe it.  But then how would you describe this blog?

They are asking when the book will be published.  I don’t know.  It depends on when I get the first draft done.  It is 90% there, but that last 10% could be the rock that I perish on.

What is the book about?  It’s about me.  Grandad.  Herself and Sandy are in it too.  If I said it was about life in the village, that would sound boring.  I hope it’s not boring.  A lot of strange things go on in this weird world I inhabit, as any regular reader of this will know.

On a positive note, Herself asked me to read her the first couple of chapters.  When I stopped reading, she pleaded with me to continue.  She hounded me night after night to read her more.  So either she is a crap judge of literature [but she hates Cecelia Ahern?] or she’s a masochist.  She certainly isn’t listening just for my dulcet voice, or to flatter me.  Herself doesn’t believe in flattery.

Suggestions for a book title on a postcard please.

• The Book
• Comments(25)

Grandad January 30th, 2008

Sinéad Gleeson wants to know what it’s like juggling a blog and writing a book.

I wish it were that easy.

Some years ago, I started a little business, which took on a mind of its own, and grew until it was a full time job.  I even had to turn work away.

Towards the end of 2006, the work eased down a bit, and I had time to start a blog.  Last year was fine, in that the work came in at a trickle, and I had plenty of time for the blogging.

Around October, all that changed.  First of all, for no reason whatsoever, the work started to pour in.  I have never advertised my business, so I don’t know where they came from, but come they did.  And then I got involved in the novel thing.

I find blogging easy.  The hardest part about it is coming up with the idea, and that usually isn’t too difficult.  A quick browse around other blogs, or a glimpse of the news or whatever, and I’m away.  I write as I think.  I don’t plan or structure.  I allow my spell-checker to take care of spelling [except when it insists on using a fucking American version].  I am a stickler for grammar, but I probably get that wrong too.  If I get a post wrong, I lose nothing.  I can make up for it again.  Bloggers are used to bad posts, and generally are a forgiving lot.  And if I lose my readers, there is no financial loss.  All I have lost is the time taken to write it, which is counted in minutes rather than hours.

Writing a novel is completely different.  A novel has to be structured.  It has word counts, and deadlines.  It has to appeal to an audience that is not used to the vagaries of the blog world.  It is very time consuming and requires a lot of thought and planning.  A novel has to be good.  It is unforgiving.  I have to pour my soul into it, because if I get it wrong, then I have wasted months of very hard work, not to mention the time and effort [and money] that the publisher has invested.  Get a book wrong, and there is no second chance.  I can’t tell my readers to come back tomorrow, because I’ll do better.  I don’t get any feedback until the entire thing is done, so there is the constant fear that I will invest a good chunk of a year in a lot of hard work that will be wasted.

My work is a completely different ball game.  It is essentially mathematical in nature and requires a different part of the brain altogether.  Also, I am on call from nine until half five, so it can intrude at any stage.

So, the juggling is fierce.

Generally, I start the day with the blog.  I post my effort, and then turn to the work.  If I have something urgent on, that can take all day, but in general, I can keep clients happy with a morning’s work.  I then try and have a nap, and wake up with my Book Head on.  I then try and write for the afternoon and on a bit into the evening, or at least until Herself starts complaining.

It doesn’t work out that way though.

Once the blog post goes up, comments start coming in.  So even though I’m pounding away at formulae and calculations, I have to mentally switch to literary mode to respond.  It’s only polite, after all.  Then during the afternoon, if I’m really lucky, I get right into the head of the character.  I’m in the location.  I can see what is going on around me in the novel, and I literally write it as it happens.  And then the fucking phone rings and it’s a client wanting me to do something urgently.  I am dragged screaming out of my fantasy world, where I have been having a great time, and have to immediately switch to my Business Head which isn’t easy.  And then of course I have to worm my way back into the plot after.

There are four options.

I can give up the work, but my existing clients rely on me, and anyway we are saving to go to France hopefully.  I like France and the thought of it keeps me reasonably sane, even if they too have succumbed to the insidious smoking ban.

I could give up blogging, but frankly, I enjoy it too much.  That too helps me retain a modicum of sanity.

I could give up the book.  That would probably be the worst option, because it would be one of the greatest regrets of my life.  It is an opportunity that is afforded to very few.  It is a very enjoyable challenge, despite its intense frustrations and hard work.  I’m not writing it for the money or the fame or the glory.  I am writing it because it is my Everest.

The fourth option is to carry on juggling, which is really the only option open to me.

So.  If you’ll excuse me.

I have work to do……

• The Book , work
• Comments(27)

Grandad January 20th, 2008

When I was asked to write a book, I didn’t jump at the chance straight away.

I gave it a bit of thought, but I reckoned it wouldn’t be too difficult.

I have been blogging now for fifteen months, and I have written 638 posts.  This will be 639.  I have never done a word count, but I reckon I have written somewhere in the region of 80,000 words.  If anyone wants to count them, feel free.  This would equate to the approximate size of a book, so in theory, I could print out the contents of the blog and there’s my book.

I asked the publishers exactly what they wanted.  Did they want a compendium of posts or did they want a novel?  I said I thought a novel was a bit ambitious for someone who had never written anything before.  They agreed and suggested a compendium.

But then I looked back at what I had written.  Some of the posts were topical.  Some were rubbish.  Some were libelous.  Some relied on images or links.  So I went through and weeded out the bad posts and I was left with about five that could be printed.  Bugger!

So I was stuck with writing a novel after all.

I have read thousands of books in my lifetime.  Some good, some bad.  It looks so easy.  You just sit down and write your story.

Wrong.

To write a novel, you have to have characters, locations, plots and storylines.  These all have to be worked out in advance.  You have to get to know your characters, and become friends or enemies with them.  You have to become completely familiar with every aspect of your story.  You can’t have a character going upstairs in his house, when you have already said that he lives in a caravan!  That is the easy bit.

Then you have to tell your story, and this is the really difficult bit.  You have to tell it in the required number of words.  If you find you have finished your story after 5,000 words, you can’t go back and just pad it out with 75,000 words of garbage.  Similarly, you can’t spin it out too much, otherwise you reach 80,000 words and realise you are still only on chapter five.  So you have to have the whole thing plotted out in advance, and if you have never done that before, it is an extremely tricky exercise.

I have had some smooth times, when the words flow.  I have had rough times, when I just stare at the keyboard and wonder what the f*ck I am doing.  I have sought help, and received it in abundance.  In fact I received more help that I ever expected.  To that person, I am forever grateful [you know who you are!].

Last night, I read the first few chapters to Herself.  As a critic, she is mealy mouthed, and will not tolerate fools gladly, which is what I wanted.  She sat quietly while I read.  She made one or two small suggestions.  I found a few errors.  At the end, she thought for a moment, and then said the immortal words - “I liked that”.

So I’m plodding on.  It is a slow task, but at the end of each day, I am that bit nearer.

So, if any of you are ever approached to write a book…..  It is extremely hard work. It is frustrating.  It’s very time consuming. But it’s great craic!

[As a point of interest, the above is 585 words!!!]

• The Book
• Comments(19)

Grandad December 15th, 2007

I am going through a very bad time at the moment.

So much to do and so little time to do it.

I am being pulled four ways at the moment - home, business, blogging and The Book.  At least one of them has to suffer.

Business is kind of mad at the moment.  I was trying to wind that down a bit, but it seems every day, I get a call from someone new wanting me to take on more stuff.  This Silver Haired Internet Technology thing started as a laugh but it is beyond a joke now.  I am working flat out at it, but for each project I finish, I find two new ones to replace it.  I can’t tell them to go away, because I want to go to France next year, and I need the money.

Blogging is fun.  But because it’s fun it is having to take a back seat.  I feel bad about that because I don’t have time to leave comments, and comments are a lot of what it’s all about.  I have been tagged again [*sigh*] but it’s an interesting tag so I intend to do it.  Sometime.  It needs a bit of thought which is why I can’t just lash off a bit of drivel.  And I don’t really have time to write stuff for my own blog.  I’m actually typing this with my toes, while I do other things with my hands.  It’s that bad.

Then there is The Book.  That, to me is the most important at the moment.  I always wanted to write a book, but it was one of those dreams, like climbing Mount Everest, that I always assumed wouldn’t happen.  Now that it has come down to it, it is a lot harder that I expected.

The other night, herself wanted a bedtime story, so I read her the first few chapters.  She was delighted.  Last night, she wanted more, so I started reading out the next bit, and realised that I had gone horribly wrong.  I couldn’t read it out it sounded so bad.  So that is a lot of work to be deleted.  Bugger.  Knickers.  More work.

So, you see, something has to suffer.  Apart from me.

So it has to be the blogging…………

• Rambles , The Book , work
• Comments(20)

Grandad December 7th, 2007

Being a celebrity is really hard work.

The hardest part is fighting off all the beautiful young women who insist on crawling all over me.

Elaine [Head of the Grandad Fan Club]

It is difficult at my age.

Here I am chatting up Maura McGrath of Jenerate [who sponsored the Blog bit] and I have a furious Glenda about to thump me for ignoring her. I can’t win.

But that damned smoking law isn’t going to spoil my night.

Of course, as soon as I had a spider in my hand, it was too much for Elaine, and she was back. [The other bloke is Cully by the way, not Liam Neeson's son]

At this stage I was getting really worried.  There was another approaching from behind me with a huge tarantula crawling out of her cleavage.

With three spiders, we got a little rowdy, but that was before the band struck up.  They would have drowned out a Shuttle Launch.  Incidentally, the very sophisticated young lady seated beside me is K8 the GR8.

It was a bit wild, because Elaine was also celebrating getting her Masters exams that day, and also I had just signed the book deal.

Frankly, I was glad to get back to the peace and quiet of the mountains.  I could take off that ridiculous suit, get back into my old jeans and jumper and my wooly hat and try to live the life of an anonymous celebrity in the bogs.

• Getting old , Rambles , The Book
• Comments(40)

Grandad November 28th, 2007

Laptop: You think you’re fucking great.

Me: What?

Laptop: You and your fucking award. You think you’re the dog’s bollix.

Me: What are you on about?

Laptop: It’s only a cheap lump of metal. You’re swanning around like it’s a Nobel Prize. Ya big headded git. Fucking spider me arse!

Me: You’re just jealous because you didn’t get one.

Laptop: Jayzus! You wouldn’t have gotten it without me.

Me: How do you work that out?

Laptop: You honestly think you would win with that turgid crap that you type? No way, baby! The only reason you won is because I take your maudlin bullshit, spruce it up a bit and add a bit of humour. Don’t flatter yourself.

Me: Good. You can help me with the book then.

Laptop: Book? What book?

Me: The one I’m going to write.

Laptop: Oh fuck! Don’t make me laugh! You, write a book? So what is the title of this great work then?

Me: I was thinking of “PMS, I love you”.

Laptop: What the fuck……? What kind of book is this going to be?

Me: A sort of cross between Cecelia Ahern and Kerry Katona?

Laptop: Oh Christ!

Me: It’ll be great. everyone will want to read it.

Laptop: Yeah! And everyone will want barbed wire shoved up their hole!

Me: Do you have to be so coarse all the time?

Laptop: Me? Coarse? You’ll have to think a lot coarser than that if you want to write like Kerry Katona. And you are going to have to dumb things down a hell of a lot. If that’s possible.

Me: Are you saying I’m dumb?

Laptop: Listen, Kid. You are dumb. But compared to those two, you are fucking Einstein.

Me: So what are we going to do about it?

Laptop: You just fuck off to bed. I’ll have the first ten chapters ready when you get up tomorrow.

Me: Thanks.

Laptop: Don’t mention it, Old Sport.

• The Book , computers
• Comments(26)