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Getting everything ready for New Flat is a bit like cat herding if cats:
- have not appeared and should have done some time ago
- need to be contacted regularly
- may not in some cases actually exist
- charge by the second
- need to be put in precise order
- must in some cases be kept unknown to other cats
- have to be herded in an improbably small amount of time

After all if I can't get the place for long enough to decorate it or the carpet (which must be installed after the decorating is done) can't be delivered before the removals date - which must happen before I am checked out of this flat - then that is not a Good Thing. All I can say is that I am being kept busy. I also have 2 x medical referrals, 2 x other sorts of medical appointment, a job interview, and the usual dog walking and helping in the garden to do.

At the moment (although not at the moment, obviously - the observer affects the observed, but presumably only on Sundays, other days it's the guardian) - I am spinning off the rewrite of the Hammersmith novel into a short piece from the PoV of the ex wife of one of the major characters - she is never actually seen in the novel but definitely deserves her say, after all she had a valid reason to be an ex wife (nothing unpleasant but an area of emotional incompatibility to say the least). Andy Killeen's asking me if I'd written about Aleister Crowley has led to a desire to finish the novel with Crowley in it, which is the one under discussion.

Leaving

Aug. 19th, 2011 07:13 am
chrisamies: (Default)
The last day here. I am surrounded by boxes and wrapped-up items. There are, quite believably, still things to go - cleaning materials, duvets, and one bed needs to be dismantled (this isn't as obvious as it seems - the other one is staying, I could have dismantled the one that is going last night and slept in the one that is staying). Woke up this morning and looked out to see the sun peeping orange over the roof of the Victoria Hall; the previous occupants called this house 'Sunrise' and that is why.

This morning is chilly enough and with condensation on the windows that I have a slight nostalgia for the autumns spent here. I moved in on 22 August 2005 so associate starting out here with autumn. Then there were adult education classes to be signed up for etc. - there will be in the new place as well of course. I could always come back to this area but not to this house (which is one possibility).

I hope I've wrapped things up enough (literally and metaphorically). I hope I'm doing the right thing - suspect I am, as after all I can come back. Left work yesterday (cutting it fine) and was quite sad to go, it was actually one of the best jobs I've had. They gave me a card and four bottles of (proper, as in real ale) beer. I had one of them (Kipling's South Pacific Pale Ale) last night.
How will all this stuff (I am beset by there being Too Much Stuff) go in the new flat? M. is getting some of it (garden tools for example as these are no use to me in the flat).
Writing stuff: recently got a very detailed rejection email from Every Day Fiction which began


Some interesting insights are embedded in these long sentences and rambling thoughts. It is an interesting style, but overall I had a hard time getting settled into it. By the end of the piece, all we know is some information about John's family, the neighbors, and that he finally gets off the couch. This makes it feel like a first chapter of something longer. The long, running-on sentences also make it hard to submerge into the prose. For example, the sentence beginning: "The couch, bought from Wal-Mart..." is quite long, and as the second sentence of the story, too long. It presents too much information for the reader to parse and get a feel for characters and setting (any sentence with 88 words in it is probably something needing to be reworked, regardless of where in the story it falls).


And but also
This story has a few wonderful descriptions, "like assuming a shaven-headed man with a flattened nose is a bank robber."


So at least I know what to do. Rewriting is tricky though even with only 1,000 words.

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