A sound check first

 

I wonder if people who comment on social media show their true colours there or if they are simply posturing - trying to be the one who says the most outrageous thing?

Back in the day, we had newspapers who actually reported news. They were read and the articles were discussed, usually, among people who knew each other. Today newspapers have no news to report as it is all broadcast 24 hours a day on tv and via our phones, so the editors resort to promoting dispute wherever they can. This weekend newspapers, via social media,  are making hay out of the BBC changes with tennis commentators. 

Who knew there was such huge disagreement over who the public want to commentate on their tennis matches? Personally I like Andrew Castle. His voice is pleasantly suited to the job and he talks equally about the tennis  and the people watching.  This last week I have missed him telling me who the camera was focussing on in the crowd because I recognised very few of them.

The American crew (McEnroe, Austin) came in for huge criticism for their nasal tones and their bias towards American players to the detriment of the British contestants.  Why they approached Eugenie Bouchard I shall never know except that she represents Canada and that will persuade Canada to buy the rights to showing tv coverage there, as American commentators help sell to America. 

Then there are the people who want Sue Barker to return. Much loved as she is, Sue was born in 1956 and is now 70.  There is much work involved in keeping up with players and their losses and wins and Sue deserves to enjoy her retirement. 

And then there is Andre Agassi. A great player, certainly and knowledgeable about tennis and I am sure his books are very readable but   - and it is a huge but - a speaker he is not. It is hard to understand the closed mouth delivery, the monotone level, and initially he talked over the play on the court below. He was not popular. 

Where the Wimbledon committee go after this is difficult to predict. Cultivate home-grown commentators? Bring on some of the younger British ex-players such as Anne Keothavong? She does well. Give them a sound check first and see if they can actually commentate  sensibly and most importantly, that their voices are pleasant to listen to for three hours at a time. That would be a good idea. 

Pre-Orders

Something I'm trying for the first time with THE CRAIGSMUIR AFFAIR - pre-order at Amazon.
I've set a date and loaded the cover. I've been given a date by which I must load all info, which is fair enough. Now I'll wait and see when and where it is listed - if it is!

Astonishingly, we haven't begun packing yet. It looks like it is going to be the usual last minute dash, but that's all part of the fun. Before we set off on the journey south I shall have to give Tim a good walk so he'll sleep until we get a good way down the country. That means getting up very early, but that's OK too, as we're usually alert and awake well before normal time when there's a big trip in the offing.

I'm trying to ensure that I have everything I want loaded onto my laptop so that I can continue to proofread while I'm in France. Disaster if I forget anything! Tennis is distracting me right now. It's the Madrid Open Final tonight and it is between Andy and Nadal. Finally, Rafa seems to be back on track, so I think I shall splurge £6.99 and pay for 24 hours viewing so I can watch the match. If I were to stay in England it would be better value to pay for a month but that's OK. The price is considerably cheaper than paying to visit the venue!

Spring is a lovely time to visit England - so many shades of green to enjoy. The froth of white in the pic is the mass of garlic flowers that have opened up in the last week. The bluebells are out too, in the shadier places.

Tennis again!

Tennis time again! I can't concentrate on writing or editing because I'm glued to the online slamtracker following Rafa's match.
Editing-wise I've re-read the first chapters of the work currently called Daisy because I haven't thought of a title. I found some places where I could cut a paragraph or two and tighten the whole thing up. The first five chapters are now printed out and soon I'll get back to work. Only one more set to go!  I got my timings in a muddle, so this should sort that out and then I can move on.

In case anyone is wondering, Tim is running well and shows no signs of hurt or injury. We went into the woods near Hexham yesterday yesterday. I wandered around taking photos while Tim ran everywhere, checking back with me every so often just tomake sure I was still following.

Rafa seems to have rallied now the end is in sight. A stomach bug's going around the players and he seems to have got it. You'd think they'd take very careful hygiene precautions when their physical state is so important.

Summer days

Should I believe Stat Counter visits, which are low, or should I believe View Count stats, which are pleasingly high, by Blogger? No idea. The sunshine seems to have gone to everyone's head and even Facebook is quiet. The school holidays have begun here in the UK but still the cul de sac is quiet. It is really quite strange. Perhaps everyone has gone on holiday.

TV has gone beserk with the Commonwealth Games. Personally I think its a little too soon after the Olympics in 2012. I've had my fill of watching people run and jump, but more than one TV channel is devoted to nothing but sport. But then, TV programmers are so annoying. I set the video to record the men's final at Roland Garros, and of course I watched it live while in France. Last night I checked the recording and found that by the end of the fourth set, when Nadal had to win one more game to win his 9th championship, the powers in charge flipped channels to give people the news. I remember being very cross in France at the time. I ask you! Four plus hours of tennis and then they switch at literally the last minute. Are these people mad?

I'm not sure how much more sunshine we can take. We've been hiding away indoors in the middle of the day because the sticky heat has been unpleasant. Energy simply drains away, and it is so difficult to sleep. Even the dog has been lolling about, trying to get comfortable. We drove up to Kielder a couple of days ago - Friday, actually - and though it was lovely, it was too hot to walk far. We spent a lot of time sitting under the tall trees overlooking the reservoir, enjoying the shade. Today it seems a little cooler, with a bit of a breeze, which is much more like English weather. I'll take Tim for his long walk now, before the heat builds. I've been going really early, as early as seven in the morning, and though there are always other dog walkers out and about, it is a lot quieter. We know the regulars now, which is nice.

What to do on holiday

Holidays are a good time for reading. My latest is, or was, The Woodcutter by Reginald Hill, all 550-odd pages of it (in paperback format). It was interesting, with a slow-burn curiosity rather than a gripping must-know-NOW feel to it. The opening chapters hung together but only just and in the weirdest way that is only explained by the very last chapters. If I had not been on holiday, with lots of leisure, I might not have continued with it, though having one of the narrators be a criminal psychiatrist was an interesting touch.

It is 10.15pm and the light has finally gone out of the sky. I forgot to do my blog this morning and the reason for that is Wimbledon, so I'm doing it now. There is always something to keep an eye on, hence the pic on the right. The days are busy with small things, such as walking Tim, weeding, swimming, making meals and sweeping the dust out of the house every day. With the heat so tremendous, we have most windows open all the time, and the dust blows in, especially if the digger boys are here, as they were yesterday afternoon. Today - not a sign of them. It would be good if they would just finish the job, and then we could do some tidying up once they've gone. But one digger is still here, poised by the pond, no doubt frightening the frogs into fits and the hay field is reduced to blank soil. Behind the house, the patch called the garden - more in hope than reality - is like a rough sea, all hills and hollows. It obviously needs more work.

La Brande - restaurant

I'm loving Wimbledon. I was struck by the American habit of giving their female players forenames I think of as surnames -  Sloane  Stephens, Taylor Townsend, Madison Keys to name but three. I'm also wondering if tall children are positively encouraged to be tennis players. They all seems so huge these days. We desperately need a top-up on groceries tomorrow and I was tempted to join dh for the drive to Vergt, but maybe I'll stay behind and get everything done so I can watch the tv. After all, Rafa and Fed are playing tomorrow. By 11am it is too hot to do anything more than laze in the sun, and after a half hour, there's a real danger of sunburn. So I don't feel bad about being indoors.

Domestica and writing

Drowning in domestic things with no time for blogging for the last few days.  Getting ready to go to France, and that is where my next blog will come from just as soon as I can get myself set up electronically. We've also been very social this week. Everyone seems to want to make the most of the warm evenings with the happy clink of wine glasses and conversation. Last night we enjoyed an enclosed log burner in a neighbour's garden. It provided a lovely glow, kept us warm and also kept the nasty little flies away. I recommend one for any garden.

Almost done with the washing and ironing. Now the problem is what to take and what to leave behind. Then of course there's the tennis from Roland Garros, and I'm watching every Rafa match because, as I say to my long suffering dh, you never know when it might suddenly be his last match. Not that I'm ill-wishing him - I want him to go on for years or as long as he wants to. There's Djokovich to keep an eye on, and Fed to watch when we get the chance. It all takes up a lot of time, and then there's Tim to walk. The thing that is suffering is my writing, but that will soon be rectified. The one I suppose I should watch is Murray, but he is so graceless. I know his tennis is good, but I  always want to shout at Andy - Stand up straight, get your head up, move like an athlete....why he shambles around I can't imagine. There's nothing wrong with his physique or his looks, and yet he refuses to present himself to best advantage.

Viking Magic is out and doing well on Amazon Kindle, so I'm concentrating on  Capture a Queen. That's the  one that has been going on in the background of my life for so long now that you would think there would be nothing to alter. But I'm amazed to find I'm still editing. Simplifying text, making it flow more elegantly, tightening the drama where possible, changing a few -ing endings where I spot them. Also, cutting where I think it needs it. I'm hoping to have this finished and published on Kindle this year, hopefully in the autumn when people start reading on cold winter nights.

I'm also wondering about Createspace. It would be nice to have a book in my hands again and Capture a Queen is aimed at Historical fiction rather than historical romance. If anyone has comments on Createspace, do let me know.

Tennis and tv?

It's a dreary Monday following what seems to me like a month of dreary days. Waging war on snails decimating my lupins makes me feel guilty, but if I want flowers, then it must be done. I tried carrying them (the snails) into the fields behind our cul-de-sac and setting them free there, but a neighbour tells me they are territorial, and will slime their way back to my garden. They're certainly here in great numbers. The trouble is when they're small, they're so very delicate and well, cute, and I have to remind myself that they grow into voracious monsters.

I can look forward to the rest of the men's single final at Roland Garros - if it isn't rained off. If it is postponed again, then they may as well scratch it, because Rafa and Novak will have other commitments and what kind of a match is it that goes on spasmodically over three days? On Sunday afternoon - starting at the idiotic time of 3pm despite the weather predictions - the balls must have been soggy and thick with red dust and, depending where they'd been on the court, at different weights due to the water they'd picked up. If three grams on a tennis rackets means weeks of relearning one's shots, then how do they cope with balls of various weights in one match? Plus which the light was dismal, and the footing insecure.

Novak must have the best trainer in the world. Half an hour in the locker room, and he comes out transformed, first serve perfect after two sets of banging it into the net. What on earth did the trainer say to make such a difference?

With such a lot riding on this final for both men, it was no wonder they were nervous and played tentatively, anxious not to make the slightest error - which of course, led to lack-lustre tennis and errors all over the place. Hardly conducive to making them feel good about themselves or their tennis. Add in the on-court conditions and is there any wonder tempers got heated? Novak wrecked two rackets and a bench seat, and Rafa vented his feelings verbally with the umpire.

The culprit in all this? I have to wonder if tv schedules and the ensuing payments and contracts make all the decisions these days. Arguments and temper tantrums on court make for good tv, so the tv people are happy while the RG people  (whoever runs the tournament) knuckle under and let the cameras roll regardless of the danger to players who may well injure themselves in such conditions. Money talks, as ever.

Holiday from writing

Publishers Weekly here has published interesting facts on ebooks over the last two years. It isn't really a surprise to learn that fiction is the best seller, but I wasn't expecting the Literary/Classic genre to come out as the top-seller genre.

Perhaps the fact that many classics are free or exceedingly cheap has something to do with its high place among the other genres. Science Fiction - well, given the tecchie aspect, I suppose I should have expected those readers to take to ebooks like a duck to water. Christian Inspirational is the next highest category, higher than romance. So much for the oft heard claim we've heard over the last few years that romance outsells any other fiction genre! Not in ebooks, it seems.

I appear to have given myself a holiday from writing. Not a conscious decision, but its definitely happening. I finished the wip perhaps three weeks ago and since then haven't written anything except blogs, reviews, e-mails, that sort of thing. One excuse - if I needed one - is that Shadows came out 24th May, and while I worked on promotion for that, writing - as in starting a new work or continuing another - took a back seat. I try to remember to check Twitter and Facebook every day, and I've made a couple of trailers for You Tube. And then of course, there's the tennis. First Roland Garros, and now Wimbledon. And yesterday Rafa made it through the first round.

Sits back and relaxes.

Summer returns

Second complete edit finished last night. Phew!

123,524 words. Definitely historical mainstream,

and multiple viewpoints.

On the whole, I'm pleased with it, although I know I can make it better yet. I'm impatient -

I want to start sending it around to see if anyone will take it, so I'll need some control in the next few days. My plan is to work hard on the first three chapters and then send out, because I'm sure I can have a third edit complete before any replies will appear.

I have a suspicion my biggest weakness is the synopsis. I don't like doing them, and I don't think I do them well. Homework time is called for!

Summer is back again. The picture of the Old Vicarage at Ovingham, just across the river, was taken in the last "summer" we had a couple of weeks ago. Since them we've had the central heating on and brought out the big duvet again. As of yesterday, it's all change once more. 21 degrees and 22 forecast for tomorrow. A trip to the gym, or a bike ride in the sunshine? Difficult to decide which form my exercise should take today, but afterwards, whichever I choose, I'll be sitting down to watch the Roland Garros tennis, men's semis, on the red button!

The perfect rose

Thirty pages left to do for the edits.
I wrote this story a year ago and
even that short space of time has made a difference to my writing.
I see the curious habits and cringe.
What is it that makes me use one word and use it again in the next sentence like an echo? Perhaps I should scan this blog and see if I do it here, too.
If I've taken one shot of the roses in my garden this summer I must have taken fifty, and I rarely get a shot that is sharp and clear. Too much wind, and defective eyesight has a part to play. With contacts in, I cannot see an object close to; with glasses I can, but I can see even better with my naked eye. At three feet, everything works the opposite way. Passing twenty-five is no fun as age starts to tell, at first in such tiny things as not being able to pass a thread through the suddenly fuzzy eye of the needle. With me it was buses - the wretched things were almost past by before I could read the direction or number. I got glasses and was amazed at the things I could see. Friends told me I'd regularly ignored them for ages unless they stood right in front of me. No wonder tennis players like Del Potro win the US Open Tennis at age twenty - everything is perfect. Strength is reaching its optimum, reaction time is superb, fitness and stamina at their best; the slowest part to mature is the brain, but after years of intense training, that knows what is expected on a tennis court. Eight years on and we're all wondering about Federer as he heads towards thirty. He is considered "old."
The US Open is going to change the APT rankings, I should think. I suspect Murray will slide down as suddenly as he rose. Will Nadal stick with number two again? And where will Del Potro find himself?

Heroes of the day

Rafa couldn't be here to defend his title so the Wimbledon final seemed a bit flat this year.

Roger was there, looking cool and trying hard . Andy Roddick was there, looking uncool and trying hard, sweat dripping from the peak of his cap from the second game. Neither could break the other's service game. Tie-breaks became the order of the day.

Until the last set of course when tie-breaks are not allowed. It went on and on, until I began to fear that one of them would fall down and not get up again.

Tennis is the gladiator sport of this day and age. One on one, for anything from forty minutes to over five hours without a break unless it happens to rain. Heroes are made in this sport, some seem born to be heroes.

Footballers may think they are fit, but they should try this for a living. Enter a tournament and any given day five sets are a possibility for the men. A team chase a ball on a football pitch, one man on a tennis court. He doesn't just want to beat his opponent, said one retired professional on tv last week, he wants to destroy him.

Roger looked worried, but never raged or threw things as so many do. And amazingly in these days of females grunters, trillers and screamers, this match was silent. The crowd made the only noise, and the audience at home could hear the racket strike the ball. There is no sound more redolent of summer and strawberries, unless it is the sound of leather on willow. Beautiful day.

Roger won. I'll save that pic for tomorrow.

Rafa

Ah, this picture says it all. Unbelievably, Rafa lost his match against a man he's beaten every time they played in the past.

"He didn't surprise me because I know how he plays and how dangerous he can be. I didn't play my best. I played very short and I couldn't attack. I made it easy for him to play at his level. But I lost. It's not a tragedy, I had to lose one day. I must accept my defeats with the same level of calm that I accept my victories."

Well, I should have more time for writing now. Until Wimbledon, that is. I hope he has a good rest, enjoys his birthday at home for the first time in years.

The picture is courtesy of Reuters.

Distractions

There are so many distractions this week I've done almost nothing to my resurrected writing project. First of all the weather has been almost perfect, so we've been out and about, hence the shot to the right taken in the woods around Aydon Castle. Secondly, I've been watching Roland Garros in Paris and cheering on Rafa - and there's another week to go before the final!

Thirdly, and this is the crunch, I couldn't decide how I wanted to progress my wisp (work in second project, before you frown. Perhaps it should be work as second project and therefore wasp). M&B don't want it, so I want to make it less H/h focussed and have more secondary character interest.

I'm mulling over various title changes for it. I'd like something that reflects or hints at the story line, but nothing is coming to mind yet. Yesterday, I saw the way forward storywise, and have re-drafted the first two chapters and added a prologue. I have notes for the third chapter ready to tackle, but Federer is playing today... and the weather is perfect again, and our neighbours are hosting a garden party this evening...

Blog-hopping pays off

I was blog-hopping this morning and fell into Julie Cohen's blog and found this:
To write a bigger book, I don’t need MORE of EVERYTHING. In fact, I don’t need much more of anything. What I need instead, is to go more deeply and with more complexity into what I already have.
KISS. (Keep It Simple, Stupid)
That really rang a bell for me. I sat up straight in my chair and read it again, and then again. Yes, I thought, this is where I'm going wrong with Daisy. I got so anxious to finish her story off and go on to something else that I didn't take the time to think the ending through and make it believeable. So, I've got myself into a total confusion with it. Time off is necessary, I think, and then to come back to it with a cool head and an analytical mind.
How good that the tennis season is upon us and I have ample opportunity to amuse myself watching Rafa and Roger slug it out again!

Complications

I'm working hard with no time for blogs! I've got myself into a situation where I have 3 separate stories on the go, and I'm doging between them. Victorian, Regency and Tudor. Enough variety there for anyone, I think, but I'm not really progressing as fast as I should. Variety there may be, but 3 stories dilutes the concentration. For me, anyway.

Why am I doing this? Because two have been rejected and I see good stuff in them that I don't want to let go. So I'm tweaking.

Can tweaking ever be good? We'll see.

Tennis news this week - Nadal beaten by Murray, Murray beaten by Federer. Federer wins first major tournament this year, so that has to be good. Murray advances, may soon be number 4 in the world. Pity I can't warm to him. Nadal has to be tired after all he's done this year - reached Number 1 and got a gold in Beijing. It's almost tempting me to buy Sky Sports so I can watch the matches, but at £17 per month....£204 per year...way too much. I'll listen on Five Live.

Alpha males and tennis

Not long to go now and then it is holiday time! In between washing/ironing/packing stints I've been watching the Tennis Open in Paris and ogling - I can't deny it - ogling is the word - the beautiful young people who play. How fit they are! How determined to suceed. How easy the winners make it look, and how hard it seems from the loser's point of view.

I wonder if I'll be able to catch any of the semi or the final at the weekend? Less than likely, since the place we go to has no tv, and though I threaten to do so, I doubt I'll really stand outside a tv shop window in the hope that tennis will be shown! There are many alpha males on display in the last rounds of any tennis tournament and it makes a fine observatory for a romance writer to watch at her leisure. When matches go on for three and sometimes four hours, there is ample time to take notes, observe snatches of temper, or stoic determination as the case may be. Some of these guys, like Federer and Nadal, are rich alpha males, too. Even better. I did not find Federer attractive when he first appeared on the scene, but he is aging well, seems more elegant now than he did then. Of course, I fell for Nadal the instant I saw him and no one believed I admired him for the quality of his tennis.
Before we know it, Wimbledon will here! Oh joy!