Category Archives: Editing

Stop Marketing First

Val McDermid made some interesting comments about new writers and how the publishing industry is no longer providing newly published authors with the time to build a following. She argues that if she had sold her first book in 2014, she would have failed at the whole endeavour. I agree with her whole heartedly, and, in some ways, it’s now tougher to get publishers to pick up a second or third book, than it is a first. Continue reading

In Over My Head

Going back to work today was a bit awkward. First, I really didn’t want to be in the house. I felt like I was intruding on Loraine’s grief, and I simply didn’t want to be in the house. The last time I was there was the morning I found… Continue reading

It’s good to be right

I woke up today to snow. Proper snow. Not a bit cold. But the entirety of Dundee covered in white. And this time last week I was wearing a sundress. Madness. Continue reading

Hiding at Work

Why am I blogging again? Because I don’t want to go home. I’m here in the work/home/office/conservatory, and I can hear Philip clinking pans and getting dinner ready in the back side of the house. It’s time to leave work, but I cannot bear going home. Continue reading

Not Good

Have had a pretty rough morning.

S told me that she’s signed up with a temp agency, but they weren’t too hopeful. When I pressed her as to why ‘they weren’t too hopeful’ she shrugged it off and said, ‘Everyone whose unemployed goes to the temp agency.’ As if I was the stupid one for even asking. She’s got a first class degree, has loads of work experience, and even taught a bit when she was in Thailand. That must qualify her for something. Continue reading

Rural Libraries and Kick-Arse Organised Librarians

This afternoon, I texted Pete and S before I left for Conspiracy’s event, hoping they would come with me to fill the numbers. Unfortunately, they’d already planned to go to the cinema, which, if I’m honest, was okay too, because then at least S was paying for Pete’s theatre ticket and not me. Continue reading