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Camy

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Blog Entries posted by Camy

  1. Camy
    "They don't like it up 'em, Captain Mainwaring!" This line from 'Dad's Army' set the tone for Katie (ancient siamese beasty) having her claws clipped. She's pretty much house-bound nowadays and her claws are ... well 'savage' belies the truth. 'Wickedly Bitching Sabatier' comes closer.
    You don't want her on your lap: unless you're wearing chain-mail, and unfortunately, mine's rusty.
    So ... I tried. The thing is with cats: they're psychic. She knew I was nervous even before I decided to start. Now I have a knee like a pin cushion, and no thanks from anybody.
    Still, on the upside, I got one paw done. Only three more to go!
    Yours, most miffed,
    Camy
  2. Camy

    Back online

    By Camy,

    Having moved to a place without a phone line it took an age and a half to get that sorted, and a deal longer to get ADSL up and running. Now, I'm back online and it feels ... mmmmmmmm yummy scrumptious!
    We're a five minute walk from the beach. Sadly it isn't sand, but it does have water which is quite an important pre-requisite for a beach. The cats like it, too. A boon, 'cause having sad cats ain't where it's at, at all. AND the garden is small which make mowing the lawn a doddle. I like doddles.
    Ave.
    Camy
  3. Camy

    Musing about November

    By Camy,

    I'm trying to figure out what to write in November. It's hard, because generally I get an idea and off I gallop - which is NOT the way to set about writing anything of great length, e.g.: a novel. It didn't work with Seraph, and it hasn't worked for the last few NaNoWriMo's I've taken part in. I've ended up knackered and with a part finished piece I never seem to get round to finishing. Don't get me wrong; I think some of what I've written has been okay, but short stories seem to suit me better.
    Last night I had the idea to use this NaNo to continue last years effort (Hellion), but from another viewpoint. With that in mind I started to re-read it, and was shocked:
    A) by how fresh it seemed - well, it would as I haven't looked at it in months.
    B) by how many stupid mistakes I made when writing - missing out words, bad spelling, awful punctuation.
    C) by how obvious it was becoming that most of what I've been writing is set in and around the same world space.
    The upshot is I have two realistic options. The first is to attempt yet another novel - or novella, and the second is to write a series of short stories. I'm still not sure which to pick.
  4. Camy

    Pre-Brexit Flu jab. 2019

    By Camy,

    I haven't had a flu jab in aeons, and don't know why the cat forced me to go.
    She's not normally that catty.

    Maybe she is; she is, after all, a cat. But I have to agree with her: We are all mad.
    Thankfully, I didn't vote for it... not that that is going to make the slightest difference, as the UK sinks slowly beneath the waves. 'Bye bye,' we'll say, and wave, with our stiff upper lips quivering, whilst the xenophobic fucks that caused it will moan that the result 'wasn't quite what we expected,' and bleat 'where's the nearest food bank?'
    The USA will eventually get rid of The Donald, but the UK has generations of misery ahead.
    Hey ho. We all have our blonde Trumps Johnson's to bear... or should that be bare?
    My Johnson's quite happy where he is. Asleep. Dreaming. No! Stop it! I've warned you....
    Anyway, to cut a long (but not nearly as long as Jason's) rant short: I had a flu jab this afternoon and I'm not a happy chappy.
    They say: The flu jab doesn't cause flu as it doesn't contain live viruses. However, you may experience side effects after having the jab, such as a temperature and aching muscles for a couple of days afterwards.
    I say: Bollocks, and ouch, and damn I feel achy and meh.... I think I'll take to my bed for a month or two.
    Ave.
  5. Camy

    Sharpened fingers

    By Camy,

    I've sharpened my fingers, pencils, and all.
    Determined to succeed: I shall not fall.
    The wayside of NaNoWriMo is painful indeed,
    littered with writers, egos, and need.
    Yup, it's the last few hours before the off. Actually, quite a few hours, but for an Emu of little bonce (ergo weency brain) the hours stream by evermore rapidly.
    I even know what I'll write! Sort of, almost ... nearly.
    If you want to keep in touch with my NaNoWriMo efforts, I have a special blog for it called 'Camy's Idiocy.'
    Ave.
  6. Camy

    Debt

    By Camy,

    Joy! We had our budget yesterday. Apparently, those 'in charge' have borrowed - and intend to go on borrowing - an awful lot of dosh. Apparently, the debt equates to over ?17,000 for every man woman and child in the UK. Apparently ....
    Sadly, I voted for the inept cretins - though (in my defence) at the time the prime minister wasn't a man with despotic megalomania, and the Chancellor didn't have Caterpillars for eybrows and an Adams' family hairdo.
    Never again!
    I intend to declare independence. The Royalesque Bank of Emu will be opening its doors shortly. Investors most welcome.
  7. Camy

    Spoof!

    By Camy,

    I love well made spoofs, and this is funny as hell. Sadly, you have to join the site - but do, it's well worth it. :)
    Masturbation!
  8. Camy

    Carma

    By Camy,

    It's odd how we become attached to our cars.
    For the last two years I've been driving a Citroen Berlingo. I was given it, so I can't complain that it was big and slow and had a bit of a slippy clutch. Over time I came to love her (tear rolls down cheek). No, I couldn't take a Porche from a standing start - but I could fit all the bands gigging equipement in the back. Then, she failed her MOT (mandatory yearly government safety check). Not badly, but add to that a new clutch and it was going to be expensive (another tear or two). So she had to go (wail).
    I live in the middle of nowhere: transport is important, busses irrregular, and decision making re cars not my best skill. So I drove her (a tad illegally) until it was pointed out I was a bloody idiot. Truth slaps one in the face, hard (stinging cheek).
    Then, amazingly, I was given another car. This one a BMW 2.5 litre thing. 'W00T' thought I (wipes tears away). Berlingo collected for scrap and shiny beast sitting squat in drive. What could be nicer? Well, with petrol prices skyrocketing, quite a lot. Then, yesterday, I found out free cars are often quite nerve-racking and potentially expensive propositions.
    Driving into the local town and home - a round trip of 15 miles - the radiator needed re-filling four times.
    "Oh, yes, it does overheat," I'm told. "And by the way, sometimes the automatic doesn't engage for a moment or two."
    'Mmm,' I think. 'Lovely.'
    So I have a new free car and almost wish I didn't. Is that churlish of me? I don't know. Probably. But there's no way I'd moan. After all, she was free and has leather seats to boot.
    I just kinda wish I'd had the dosh to buy a small, cheap to run, thing, rather than having a gas guzzling behemoth.
  9. Camy

    A book for all seasons.

    By Camy,

    Along with a bunch of other worthies I've had an awful lot of fun over the last couple of months. The result is a book - initially an eBook - available in .ePub and .mobi (for kindle) from www.midnightdude.com
    Why? There are a shed load of reasons, but primarily it's to raise money to keep AwesomeDude.com healthy. Times are hard for all of us, and though there's a 'donate' button on the front page, we thought that as an alternative to a donation selling a book would be good. And it's nice to give a little something back to those that help. The book's not expensive, either, and you're getting 17 short stories and a novella for your wonga.
    AND, as most of them have been especially written for the book you won't be able to read them anywhere else for quite a while.
    AND the novella - 'The Summer I Was Thirteen' is by the our much beloved Cole Parker.
    "So what," I hear you ask, "is the price of this fantabulous, must-have-or-I'll-explode eBook? It's got to be $15!"
    Well no, it's not. It wasn't created to make anyone rich. It's just a way to support the site and give a little something to those who do.
    "$10? For all those stories it has to be $10."
    No. And it's not $9.99 either. I hate the .99. Why do they do that? I know it's to fool you into thinking whatever it is is cheaper, and yes, I get suckered in by it, too. Grrrr.
    "Well ... $5?"
    Nope, it's much cheaper than that. It's $4.99 and worth every last cent.
    "WOW!!!! And where can I get hold of a copy?"
    At www.midnightdude.com. But first, here's the cover.

    I'm really proud of the cover. Bruin Fisher took a series of photographs - all of which were first rate - and we finally chose this one.
    So, to get your copy of Midnight Dude: Selected Readings click HERE.
    You'll get:
    1) a zip file with the book in both .epub and .mobi formats.
    2) Many, many hours of happy reading.
    3) You'll have helped AwesomeDude.com continue to be the excellent site it is.
    4) A scrawny emu's thanks.
    What more could you possibly want for $4.99? :)
  10. Camy

    Cars Grrrrrr.

    By Camy,

    In the UK we have a yearly test for cars called an MOT. In years past, although it was illegal, frowned upon, and you risked getting a big slap, it was not that big a deal if your cars MOT had expired. Now, what with computers and the 1984 Big Brother mentality, you risk severe doo-doo if you don't have one.
    Today, my baby Renault Clio failed hers. *sob, wail, gnash, howl*
    So I get home and look at the failure sheet (you have 10 days to put the problems right and have a re-test).
    'It's not so bad' I'm thinking. 'A few bulbs, a bit of exhaust pipe, front brakes and a tyre.' Then I realise that because of the exhaust pipe it hasn't had the dreaded emissions test.
    The emissions test (minds out of gutter, please) is a nightmare. If you have the most perfect car in the world and it fails this test, then you have to scrap it (and kill yourself, too).
    So, I'm in a catch 22, and panicking! If I fork out and have the exhaust fixed (which - according to the nice man at the garage - could be as much as ?350) it might still fail emissions due to the engine ... and there are still the tyre and the bulbs and the brakes and etc, etc, etc.
    Then ...
    ... a friend phones up. He's got a Citroen Belingo with 2 months MOT and he's going to give it to me for ... FREE!!!!
    It needs a bit of work, but as he was about to have it scrapped, it's a win-win all around.
    Oh, chuffed and lucky am I!
  11. Camy

    Cheery Me

    By Camy,

    My poem 'Cheery Me' seems to have caused 'a bit of a to do'.
    Cheery cheery me
    Razor blade and morphine free
    Can't take the final step
    No one to feed the cats you see
    I appreciate the concern more than those concerned will probably ever know: however, I'd like to state that though I've occasionally pondered the idea of 'offing' myself - and who can honestly say they haven't - I wouldn't. It's pointless, and I have way too much to do. I really, really want to finish my novel. I've songs to record, a boyfriend to shag (too much information?) and a life to live ... not to mention cats.
    So thank you - you know who you are.
    And to those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, thank you too.
    Camy
  12. Camy

    27 in, 3 to go

    By Camy,

    We're on day 27 and there are three days to go. Some of our group have already finished, but Bruin and I are both a little behind. That's not bottom talk by the way. My behind is splendid as it is.
    We're supposed to be in the studio editing another video, but as it's snowing here I have an excellent excuse for writing instead. W00T say I!
    I absolutely shouldn't be here waffling, but waffling seems far more pleasant than having to decide which of my characters - all of whom I like - should be offed and how nastily. I have a choice of two and ... <sniff>I want them out of danger and home eating crumpets and drinking tea. Oh well, needs must as the plot drives.
    Back to it, I guess.
    Ave, y'all.
  13. Camy

    What?

    By Camy,

    It's been yonks and yonks since I've put finger to keypad and blogged. My bad, but then I have been somewhat, nay, frightfully busy. Yep, that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.
    We made a second video, which was erm ... yes. It was. Lo-res is one reason I'm not trumpeting it to the hills. Never again will we make lo-res videos. It's not worth the time spent. We've also been rehearsing 'till our fingers and tonsils bled and the studio had to be emptied by paramedics (name the film that includes the line: 'send more paramedics' and you can win a prize!).
    The weather broke today. For the last ten days it's been like high summer in the UK and I was becoming convinced that some universal calamity was in the offing. Ah well, tonights drizzle has slapped me back into place. No more praying at the top of hills waiting for spacecraft for me. Oh no! Just another 'English person waffling about the weather - they like that, don't they?' sort of thing.
    Hmm. Writing. Yes. After all, this is a site for writers, and in the past I've purported to be one, too. And I have. A little. I'm writing now, aren't I? And if I'm not then I have folders of the stuff to wax lyrical about. The thing is none of it is finished ... yet. Bleh. Mea culpa and all that jazz.
    End of waffle. Ave.
  14. Camy

    Update

    By Camy,

    My hubristic outburst along the lines of 'shan't write a thing until I've finished a novel na-na-na-na-naaaaaa!' has caused me a lot of grief. So much, in fact, that I'm amazed I haven't exploded - or should that be imploded ... or possiby both?
    Anyway, I've given up on it. If I do, then I do. If I don't, then c'est la vie, or somesuch. Life's way too short not to write because I've been a tit. There I've admitted it: I'm a tit.
    -----
    Let me commend to you www.fawm.org. Lots of fun, and remember that if you can't twang thump or wail: songs need lyrics - and writers write them!
    -----
    Shock horror! I was tidying up my bedroom and I found a cobweb. Shocked to say the least, I was. Mainly because there were no spiders to be found. Lot's of spiders must have been partying, but narry a one in sight. Why? Where have they gone?
    -----
    I have in excess of a few part finished short stories that I'm working on. Proud I am of this nugget, but I'll be prouder still when I actually finish one. Soon.
    -----
    And that is that for the moment.
    Ave all.
    Camy
  15. Camy

    12 ish hours to NaNoWriMo!

    By Camy,

    Okay, so I have just under 12 hours to get my act together.
    I have an outline of sorts, which is all well and dandy, but I wanted the whole thing nailed down. I wanted to know exactly who was going to be doing what to whom and when -- to the nth degree. Fat chance. I should know myself by now.
    I do, however, have a title: 'Worth.' A good and worthy title I'm sure you'll agree.
    Good luck to everyone who's taking part!

    Camy
  16. Camy
    Yep, it's that time of year again. The end of October approaching Novermber and [drum roll] NaNoWriMo. After last years debacle - well, I suppose I was recording an album ... but that's no excuse - where I failed, I swore I would grow up, become sensible, buy a dressing gown, carpet slippers, a pipe, and retire.
    I had a relation who smoked a pipe. Nice chap. My Aunt's husband. The thing was I hardly ever saw him as he was generally surrounded by a cloud of acrid, billowing smoke. So, I don't like pipes (bongs are a different kettle of worms). Pipes are just [shudder] disgusting, so that was out. And, as it's cold here in November, I already have the slippers and dressing gown. Wuzzly warm I am, too!
    The bottom line is I am going to write yet another 'novel.' Notice the 'going to.' There's none of that wishy washy 'attempt to write' stuck in there. Positivity! That's the ticket! At least that's what it said on the back of the cereal packet this morning. Hmm.
    My big problem is what to write it on. Paper and pen are out. Even if I had decent handwriting you have to send in text to be verified, and a copy typist I'm not. So software. La-di-da, software! But which?
    Ywriter 5 is wonderful, as is Writer's Cafe. Page four is excellent too. I have them all and flit between them like a despotic butterfly. Frankly, and here is where the crux of my problem lies, I can't decide on which tool to use (not a word please, Des ;) ).
    And now, now I've found Scrivener has been ported to windows! Scrivener which is supposed to be the dogs bollocks.
    The very bottom line is that I have just short of a week to write a stonkingly great and stellar outline - the F1 Korean Grand Prix is this weekend, which sadly takes away a chunk of valuable outlining time - and still I can't decide on my implements.
    Ah well, such is life. Any helpful, non fatuous advice would be most gratefully received.
    Camy
  17. Camy

    Once I coveted a Sony Reader

    By Camy,

    The idea of customer service and 'satisfaction' in the UK sucks. There, I've said it.
    Like a big kid I fell in lust with the idea of getting a Sony Reader. It's not that I can afford one. It's just that I've got a credit card, and I haven't gone mental with it for a while.
    So, on Saturday M and I schlepped into the local Branch of Waterstones. Waterstones is supposedly the UK's biggest chain of book shops. They have a deal with Sony to sell their 'Readers', and a dinky site to flog eBooks.
    "Do you have any Sony Readers left?" I pant, with eyes attractively on stalks, and fondling my plastic.
    "Yes," the po-faced sloth behind the counter finally puts his paper down, and answers. "several. Do you want to buy one?"
    "Maybe, but I'd like to see it working first."
    "Ah." He nods sagely. "There's a display over there." He points, and takes a breath.
    "Great!" I say, about to walk over to it and play.
    "But the display model has stopped working."
    "Oh," I stop, and my lower lip begins to quiver.
    "You can look. It's just that it doesn't work.
    "Not a lot of use then, is it?" M says acerbically.
    "I suppose not." The sloth picks up his paper as we walk over to the display.
    I decide the Reader is aesthetically beautiful, and rather pleasing, as I prod at its buttons, hoping that maybe it'll magically fire up. It doesn't.
    M starts to get annoyed. I know the signs. Unfortunately, a young and helpful Saturday sales girl doesn't.
    "Nice, isn't it?"
    "It's not working." M states the obvious with such gravitas and disdain I wonder why the young girl doesn't turn tail and flee.
    "Umm ... no." She says, still in helpful mode. She frowns, then brightens up. "It worked for an hour this morning, then stopped. Oddly the same thing has happened at several of our other branches."
    "But you have them for sale?"
    "Oh yes!" She says brightly.
    "Couldn't you put a new one on display, then?"
    "Oh no, we're not allowed to. But I'm sure it'll be working on Monday!"
    It wasn't. I went back and it was still broken ... which has rather put me off.
    Now, I'm thinking of coveting a BeBook.
  18. Camy

    More Sunday babbling

    By Camy,

    ... because it's Sunday, which means I haven't blogged for a week. Not that that's anything to write home about: I've not a lot to say. However, now I shall vent as I'm annoyed, and might well soon be ill. Why? Because I happen to like cold coffee and hate flys.
    Obvious then it is to cover one's coffee mug: and if not, at least check for alien invaders before drinking from it. Obvious to all but me, sadly.
    A mouth full of coffee (nice) and a large fly (not so nice) is enough to send even the sanest Emu over the edge, and trundling down the hill of despair and insanity. Especially if the only sympathy said Emu receives is rampant laughter.
    -----
    I don't rave about bands a lot. I've no idea why. Perhaps it's because I don't think there are many brilliant new bands out there. Anyway, now I've found one. 'Elbow' are really, really good. And I don't say that lightly. Not that I think their name rawks. Far from it. It's a bit meh, really. Or, to put it in stronger terms: their name sucks. BUT, their music is sublime!
    They are the best thing I've heard in an age and a half, and their album 'The Seldom Seen Kid' is just Mmmm! Check them out if you've a mind ... or even if you don't.
    http://www.elbow.co.uk/

    - on You Tube
    - on You Tube-----
    Housework really pisses me off. It's such an unmitigated waste of time (I know you can meditate while hoovering, but it's damn dangerous when doing the stairs). So, I've been pondering the idea of selling my un-made bed. If Tracy Emin can sell her's to Charles Saatchi for ?250,000 - then surely mine must be worth something. It's got lots of 'things' hers hasn't, and I'd even sign a manuscript (perchance I ever finish one) and leave it under the pillows.
    So, umm, any offers would be most welcome.
    Yours, ever hopeful,
    Camy.
    - edited to fix the link to 'The Bones of You' - Thanks Des.
  19. Camy

    Weird week

    By Camy,

    This is one weird week.
    I've received both an awful bit of news - in that The Hub is closing, and a great bit of news - in that I've made Dude's pick for July with my short story: 'JJ and The Boys.'
    First, The Hub. Rob and Kitty followed a dream, and built a small, but vibrant community. They went through awful trials, worthy of Greek myth, and finally won through. Then ... stuff happened, and Kitty left. Rob carried on for a while, but he has a life to lead and rightly decided that enough was enough. They were my friends, and Kitty my mentor and editor. Now they've gone, and I'm saddened. Truly saddened. The only upside is that Rob will have some space, and hopefully, he can start writing again.
    As Richard Attenborough said in Jurassic Park "Life will find a way." And to get a Dude's Pick has ... erm ... Picked me up. :)
    Thanks Dude!
    Camy
  20. Camy
    AGHHHHHHHHH!!!
    1761 when I should be at least at 5001 is peeving. Peeving I tell 'e. It's just not good enough!
    AGHHHHHHHHH!!!
    And, and, and oh poop. I picked the wrong day to give up sniffing glue. What? It's my blog I shall be as contentious as I like. And frankly - but don't tell anyone, it's a secret - I've never sniffed or mainlined glue. Or herbage either. Difficult to inject a large pot plant, anyway. Though why smoking one of God's own plants is illegal worries me. He/She/It gave us this wondrous (according to some, but not others) green growing thing in the first place. Did you know you can sail a ship with it?
    Waffle, that's what this is. Waffle to clear my mind of an insanely weird scene in a secret pub near Covent Garden. There are elves too. I like elves. And mountains.
    Nuff said.
    Bye.
  21. Camy
    Yes I am, but not quite 100%, which means several thing. No kissing, other than on the neck. So necking, as such, is right on. Actually, I rather like it. M's neck is just scrummy, though his hair - which is rather long - tickled my nose. I aim for right behind the ear, which means if I'm sneaky I get a little nibble on his lobe in as well. Mmm .... Sorry, it's probably way too much information.
    We were going to to carry on recording tomorrow, but as M's getting over the same thing - he's two days behind me - we really don't want to re-infect ourselves, and certainly don't want to infect the guitarist.
    ---------
    I've been thinking about writing a lot over the last few days and have come to a rather large decision. The train of thought started as I was reading Grasshopper's 'Just One Starfish': continued as I read Cole Parker's 'When He Was Five', and I'm still pondering as I'm in the middle of Jesse Hajicek's brilliant 'The God Eaters'.
    I write short stories. I like writing short stories because as far as novels go they are pretty much instant gratification: a wank as opposed to a night of real love, if you will. And why? Because I'm bloody lazy. And perhaps ... perhaps I don't have the mind for anything longer. I don't know. But I soon will.
    My decision is not to write any more of anything (blogging and tarting on the boards aside) until I finish one of the novels I've started.
    Wish me luck!
  22. Camy
    'tis a beautiful sunny day, even though it started off with a frost.
    I'm looking at this:

    which is rather nice, except I'm trying to hate it as I'm selling up ....
    ... and I'm just off to play with M.
    Playing with one's true love is ... well pretty damn fun, especially as he's such a good keyboard player. He's just got a new guitar, which I get to strum, and apparently he's written a new song, too: so that should be good.
    The cat says hello, as do her Mum and brothers.
    Ave, peeps.
    Camy
  23. Camy

    wuz'appening.

    By Camy,

    I'm finally starting to write again, which is, quite frankly, an utter Gawdsend, as I'd pondered the thought that perhaps that was it and I'd shot my authorial bolt ... as it were.
    Now I know I haven't - or perhaps that should be 'think' rather than 'know' - I'm marginally happier. Not that I haven't been happy ... just a tad depressed.
    I went to the doctor last week and told her - I had a choice of a her or a him, and I think if you're going to spill your emotions to a doctor it's probably best to do it with a her. After all, hers are supposed to be nurturing and caring, whereas a him would just tell me to buck my ideas up and be a man.
    Anyway, I told said her that I was depressed, and swifter than the fastest swallow (unladen with coconut) I had a prescriptiion for Fluoxetine - which is another name for Prozac. Yum, I thought, cantering out of the surgery. Okay, actually I had no idea what Fluoxetine was until I read the leaflet and enquired of our Oh Lord Wikipedia what doest thou say?
    And then ...
    #shudder#
    ... I read the side effects.
    I'm still a tad depressed, but I'm not going to be joining that band wagon, thank you very much. I wouldn't mind a therapist to talk to, but as the bottom line is 'know yourself,' what on earth would I say? It'd end up being a very expensive hour of silence.
    Yours, most felicitously,
    Camy
  24. Camy

    Ordinary Man

    By Camy,

    Earlier today I was slugging coffee, writing, and occasionally - when I got stuck - picking up the guitar and noodling. Noodling helps me think. Anyway, I ended up penning a ditty. Then - as I don't write music - I made a rough recording.
    Here are the lyrics:
    Ordinary Man
    i am an ordinary man
    i ain't subtle there's no plan
    when I saw you at first
    my heart flipped went berserk
    i think i love you - i think i love you
    you're a man
    wasn't the plan
    'cause i am straight
    let others hate
    'cause i am me
    and you are you
    and does it matter
    who is who
    i think i love you - i think i love you
    i never thought i was strange
    my genes don't need re-arranging
    when we touched in the street
    my body and soul felt complete
    i think i love you - i think i love you
    yet you're a man
    it wasn't the plan
    'cause i am straight
    let others hate
    'cause i am me
    and you are you
    and does it matter
    who is who
    i love you - i love you
    ---
    And here - if anyone's interested - is the rough recording.
  25. Camy
    Finally, yesterday, we finished shooting a video for 'Spring of Teal'.
    I love Apple computers and their software. Final Cut rocks! All I have to do is log and capture the DVs, Sync them and snippety-snip. Easy-peasy! I'll see you next millenia, then.

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