Category: me

Bit o’ nothing really

Sara Crowley7 Comments

I haven’t updated here recently. I think I am in a bit of a funk. I only just thought of that word “funk” but it seems to fit perfectly with my mood.

Random then:

I miss Matt, and I try not to notice just how much because it rips me to pieces. So I think a Matt thought, and I try to move away from it quickly.

I wrote a flash for a weekly thingy at the Fiction Workhouse. I am quite keen on it, but nobody else is.

I have had a sort of viral something since Christmas. It doesn’t ever quite evolve, but I am constantly tired, and ears pop in and out with swallowing. I have no energy.

I am re-reading Kate Pullinger’s guide on how to write fiction (given away with the Guardian last year) and it is so superb. I feel as if I have turned the key in my car, and I am gently revving the engine. I am going to finish the novel this year.

I just read Kate Atkinson’s “When will there be good news?” and enjoyed it. I was disappointed with her last novel, but this was a page turner that I loved reading. The character’s of Reggie and Dr Hunter are lovely, and I was rooting for them all the way. Occasionally I was surprised by how clunky a sentence was, but mainly I was in that gorgeous fictive dream. She makes it seem easy to plot juggle and switch perspective. I know it is not.

I wish I was full of energy. I have a permanent health problem anyway, so always operate from a below average start point, when a virus comes along it really does for me. I hope to be back at it soon.

Subbing frenzy (aka~ well, I sent a few flashes out.)

Sara Crowley5 Comments

I am so shit at subbing. Once in a while I’ll sit down and really devote time to the process, but mostly I just whine about being rejected, and totally ignore the “get it back out there” advice of writing pals. It’s like I’ll give it one shot, and if someone doesn’t fall on it and say yes, I don’t quite love it enough any more. I do have one story that I have sent out 8 times. That’s a major amount of attempts for me. But I have a rather rare to me self confidence about it. I think it is good, dammit. It’s come close a couple of times. I have had an editor ask me to change it a bit, and I refused, because I am CONVINCED that it is good as is. I had another Ed say that they nearly published it but at the very last minute they didn’t. No reason. Weird. Anyway, I sent it back out today, this time to a female editor, because it suddenly struck me that maybe that would help.

All the place I sent to today are zines that I read and consider chock full of good quality writing. And, I didn’t even sim sub. Ah, the heady feeling of hope mixes with the blah inevitability of rejection. I’ll get used to it eventually. Perhaps.

This is not a best of the year with salt

Sara Crowley8 Comments

I usually like to post an end of year round up, I usually enjoy pondering on what were my years highlights, it’s a fun thing to do. This year I couldn’t think of any “best” at all. Matt’s death has cast a shadow over everything. In a what the fuck truth telling mood I don’t mind sharing the fact that just beneath my surface, for the last year, there have been tears and loss and sadness. There has been Matt; his illness, his death.

Matt and I were friends for over twenty years. He wasn’t perfect, neither am I. In fact I believe neither of us would want me to be overly sentimental just because he is dead. He drove me nuts at times, and in the 20 plus years we shared, we rowed, and bitched, and pissed each other off loads of times. We also created a shared history, layers between us, short hand. We watched each other grow, learn, evolve from kids to adults, and in the last years of his life (and if only I had known, god, how much more of an effort would I have made) he became my best male friend. It takes years to build the friendship we had. It was rare, unique, unlikely, wonderful. He was different from anyone else I have ever met. He was a stubborn genius, a musical giant, and an amazing, non-judgmental, supportive chum.

So, I was thinking about all of that, whilst I sat in a big bubbly bath, sipping champagne that my husband poured for me. Then I came and checked my emails. My twins had been on the pc, and their msn pages were still open. They are 10 years old and their pals have status’s that read like “Chelsea till I die” “Zac Efron is well fit” “2 weeks till diznee land”. Ted’s update reads “Love u mum, ur the best” and Dylan’s reads “I love my mum 2000000000 times to the moon and back.” Gulp.

Downstairs Simon is preparing New Years Eve dinner for us. He bought all my favourite things to eat, plus delicious champagne. Matt once said that he thought Si loved me so much he’d move planets to please me. If I sound like I’m showing off, well I am. It’s important that this year isn’t just about loss. It’s also about how my beautiful boys (Hubby and sons) have supported me and surrounded me with love. It’s about the friendship I had with Matt, the memories that I can dip into, and cherish. It’s about the friends I am blessed with, and the new friends I made this year too.

Thanks to the writers at the Fiction Workhouse and Zoetrope for sharing and caring. Thanks to my facebook pals (to all who slag off facebook, I am delighted that it enables me to chat with writing pals in India, America, France, U.S, and even Brighton!) Thanks to all who read this blog and comment and stop me feeling alone. Thanks to Tania for being lovely. Thanks to Jo for getting me up on a stage this year! Thanks to Lane for LitCamp and encouragement. Thanks to Rachel for Cella’s. Thanks to Sean for being my coolest commenter! Thanks to Kellie for being ace. Thanks to Lisa for everything always. Thanks to Mima for all the listening. Thanks to Si for my whole life. Thanks to you all for reading. I’m allowed to be soppy, it’s New Years Eve!

Happy 2009 to all.

XXX

Rejection

Sara Crowley8 Comments

I subbed a piece back in June, and heard no more until this week, a wait of 5 months. I got a strange rejection. It was kind, but maddening too. The editors said:

Many thanks for your submission. It was shortlisted and shortshort… and… sorry, it was unlucky. If the coin had flipped the other way… Pure bad luck. There’s not really any other way to explain the fact that it didn’t get in the mag. We get a lot of submissions and sometimes pieces miss out. There’s no perfect way of making the final selection…

Please accept our apologies. We hope you will send us something for a future issue.

All the best,

It’s nice that they took the time to respond, it’s great that it wasn’t a form rejection, it’s cool that they short listed and “short short” listed. But. It was bad luck that they didn’t choose it? A flip of a coin? Oh.

At least ten things I’m feeling right now…

Sara Crowley9 Comments

1) A bit wobbly. A bit fragile. A bit concerned that I’m never going to be as good as I want to be.

2) A bit sick.

3) Baffled by some of the utter mediocre tripe that gets published. (I always feel like this, so it’s not news.)

4) Hormonal and teary (that’s my excuse for boo hooing over Brendan and Lisa in Strictly!)

5) Irritated by the fact that nobody asks silly X-factor Diana why she sings in a faux oirish accent when she is NOT IRISH! (My twins insist I watch this with them, we compromise with me watching the sky plussed programme on Sunday so I can whizz through.)

6) Pissed off with all the hateful using, schmoozing, back stabby, sucking up/slagging off that goes on even in my tiny amateur writers world.

7) Delighted for Tania Hershman who is the European regional winner of the Commonwealth Broadcasting Association’s short story competition. Whoo hoo Tania!

8) Addicted to lots of word games on Face book that are potentially very time wastey. (Word Twist and Path Words in particular!)

9) Happy with my new upgraded MacBook.

10) Disappointed with myself always, for not being better/thinner/kinder/smarter/more prolific/more talented/and so on ad infinitum.

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Another post about my mac because I am soooo interesting

Sara Crowley3 Comments

Not having my laptop is weird. I am online much less, and it makes me see how much time I usually do spend doing bobbins really. I am a scattergun writer, perhaps. I browse online, I visit facebook, blogs, FW, zoetrope, Lowculture, read emails, shop, and in-between I switch to word and write in short bursts. I don’t know if I am able to write more solidly, because whenever I attempt to, I distract myself, if not with online stuff, then with real life business; phone calls, cleaning, eating, lots of staring into nothing, anything really. Even just writing this I suddenly jumped up and changed my top. I need to work on staying focused I think.

I have to ring the mac repair peeps soon and get a verdict on its health. I think it’s gonna be bad news, as the guy shook his head and whistled at it. I think I have lost everything, which I didn’t think was too much of a problem until I remembered all those little pieces of work that i didn’t back up because they were to be worked on. And lots of photos that I had seen so often I was bored with, but now they are LOST I want them back.

I think I should set myself a time limit. Like, before the school run it’s ok to check emails quickly, but after, I should crack on and write the novel for a couple of hours. Then stop for lunch, after that scoot around online, and work on reviews, edits, flash etc. After school is boys time (but if they are on wii or ps it’s ok for me to play too!) Sounds workable. In theory. I always forget though that there’s so much other stuff to get on with, I think I find chunks of writing time and then realise that I am mummy too, and work part time, and need to do household stuff and paperwork and shopping and cleaning.

Erm, me, at Sparks, reading out loud, into a microphone, sounding strange

Sara Crowley4 Comments

Hmmm. Weird one this. Sparks was filmed, and videos of some readers are now up at Beat the Dust.

Mine is here

Very strange to look at myself doing that. It doesn’t seem to be me, it does not sound like me. It seems like a jolly, fat lady channelling Joyce Grenfell has got up on stage wearing my clothes, and ENUNCIATED her way through my story.

The others are far more appealing:

Steve Finbow
Martin Reed
Jo Horsman reading for Anna Britten
Melissa Mann

Sparks flew (boom tish!)

Sara Crowley3 Comments

I loved Sparks, it was such a cool event. Big thanks to Jo Horsman, a real make happen kinda gal. It was her idea to hold a flash fiction evening in Brighton, and to marry the words spoken with a visual, she chose the perfect venue too.

Initially I was terrified of the stage and microphone and lighting and eeek, all the “proper” stuff. It was my very first time reading, and I was a mass of babbling nerves. The other readers (listed in my previous post) were thankfully very cool and reassuring.

So: good stories, good readers, good photographs, good venue, good people = plenty o’ good.

I think I did ok reading, people were kind and laughed in the appropriate places. There is a review by James Burt here, which has made me smile quite a bit!

In the end, apart from the anxious bits, I had a lovely time, and today feel proud to have been part of the very first Sparks. Keep an eye on Jo’s blog for details of the next one.

Edit: New review at The Badger