Sleepover party

Tonight we have six extra children coming to stay for the night. I fear that I'll scare them witless with my clipboard and attached 'action plan' of what we're going to do, eat etc. Since the boys were toddlers I've figured that the best - or rather the ONLY - way to emerge from a children's party unscathed is to plan everything to the letter. So between this evening and tomorrow lunchtime, my daughter (now 8 yrs old) and her friends will have watched Stardust and Dr Who, painted nails, made their own pizzas and jigsaws, had a midnight feast, a treasure hunt AND a water balloon fight. And they will damn well have ENJOYED IT and tell their parents how GREAT it was.

Hmmm. No wonder one of my sons remarked that he 'lives under a Facist regime...'

post-holiday rev-up...

...after two weeks of Easter hols, which have been v pleasant, despite the shivery Lanarkshire weather. I'm a third of a way into a novel, which feels not very far at all, especially as I'd love to have even a rough, barely-legible draft ready when the kids break up for summer (which is the end of June here in Scotland - eek).

In the past I've dillied around with various ways of cranking up the brain post-hols. Trouble is, I've barely glanced at the book in the past two weeks, and now I'm thinking, Who's Rory again? What the hell happened to Laura's dress? Would be easier, I think, to write continuously with NO breaks, ever, but of course every writer has a real life too, which tends to get in the way. And without those school holiday 'breaks', I'd start feeling quite hermet-like and lonesome. And barking mad, probably.

So... some post-hol brain revving tactics I've tried in the past...
- Don't expect to dive headlong into your writing the first day you have an empty house. Read the last few chapters, tinker about, familiarise yourself with the story again. It's like meeting up with an old friend you haven't seen for ages, and can feel a little awkward and creaky at first.
- Bash out something - anything - just to get into the flow again. Kind of freewriting really, just to limber up. If some good ideas come from it, so much the better. But don't beat yourself up if it's bile.
- Resist all temptation to go back to the very beginning and start editing and fiddling about. I ALWAYS want to do this, when I'm feeling a bit lost and confused. But it's far better to push on to the end. It 'll start to flow and feel natural, and pretty soon, 'The End' won't seem quite so far away.

(Oh, and passing the half-way point - for me about 200 pages - is always quite magical and boosting, I think).

That's the plan, at least! Had better crack on, and try to figure out the heck Rory is again....
F x

Play it again....

A friend has asked me to play sax and flute in a band to accompany our local amateur dramatics troupe. I was chuffed, even though she let slip that the two other two players she'd asked before me had turned it down. Still! Three years ago, the sax was consigned to many an attic as I moved from flat to flat. And now it's being played relentlessly as I try to get the show's darn songs into my head.

It's Me and My Girl. I have the CD and play it constantly in the hope that my brain will absorb it by some process of osmosis. And it's worrying, playing the same thing over and over. The kind of behaviour that's a small step away from wearing your bra on top of your coat. I'm sure I once read about some maniac who viciously attacked a neighbour because she'd been playing Whitney Houston's 'I Will Always Love You' around 800 times a day. I find myself humming the more recognisable tunes - Leaning on a Lamppost, The Sun Has Got His Hat On etc - whilst queuing in shops. God help me if I start doing The Lambeth Walk in public. In our small community, that kind of behaviour can get you on the cover of the Lanark Gazette.

Another stressy aspect: when to practise? We're in the midst of Easter hols (still!) so little chance during the day. At the first sax-honk my daughter starts pounding her piano, trying to drown out the horror of it all. I could get up at 6 am, but what kind of traumatic effect would that have on impressionable children? Ditto late at night. Unless I muffle the sax by stuffing it full of jumpers.

Which, unless I can get these songs together over the next three weeks, might be a wise tactic on opening night...

Easter hols: work or play?

So here we are on day three of the Easter holidays and the children are in - whisper it - childcare. They're at a fantastic kids' centre, no doubt climbing trees and stuffing snow down each other's necks (yes, we have snow... in APRIL). However my jaw still clenches when people say, 'So where are the kids today?' And I have to admit... not with me. Bad, bad mother. I know we should have the Fuzzy felts and jigsaws out. We should be growing cress on cotton wool and all that holiday stuff.

No matter how much children protest that they 'won't be any trouble' and 'just play quietly in my room', I'm sure any homeworking freelancer would agree that mixing kids & work is impossible, unless you happen to lash them to a chair in front of the Simpsons for six hours, or your child is at least 27 years old. However, if childcare is unavailable, there are still ways of getting the work done in school holiday time, ie:

- Get up hours before the blighters wake up. This means staggering to your computer at something like 5.30 am which to me is quite traumatic as at that time I can barely see, and need at least a pint of coffee before work is commenced.

- Synchronise everyone's daytime naps. When my twins were babies/toddlers, this was possible by giving them a whopping lunch and milk feed, followed by a brisk march around the park. I'd then charge home, squeeze the double buggy through our front door, and thrash the keyboard for an hour or so. Trouble is, you might be unable to resist a nap yourself.

- Crowbar the kids into bed as early as possible and stay up late working. Set alarm extra early the following morning to check that you weren't writing gobbledigook, especially if wine was involved.

Happy hols!