tea stains

Goodbye 2009

2009-12-23T16:44:00.000+07:00

It seemed fitting to end 2009 on the last post, however, it wouldn't do because I have to thank you all for coming to Tea Stains over the last year.

I've been feeling ten feet tall over the last couple of days... It's been wonderful to feel such support. Thank you so much for your comments and congratulations.

We opened our presents today because in half an hour we leave for the airport. (We're spending two days in Geneva and then transferring on Boxing Day to a ski resort for seven days.) My lovely husband has had 'my three little words' immortalised on a ring for me as my main present (see below) and I've spent the morning spontaneously bursting into tears... It's a mixture of finishing the book and remembering how those words got me through my wibbly wobbly times. I can't wait to get going on editing.

My rush to finish the first draft has saved you all from the prospect of 'the Christmas series' which is all the shiny decorations I can find in Bangkok. There were a lot. We should all be grateful they didn't get posted here.

I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and a happy and healthy New Year.

Christmas can now go ahead...

2009-12-21T19:07:00.000+07:00

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After some twenty years of wanting to do it, several first chapters, a major false start two years ago (25k of words) I have just finished the first draft of my first novel.

With a writing stint of 2,803 words today I have come in at a total of 107,257 words. What a lot of lovely words to work with...

Christmas can now go ahead.

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Euuughhhh

2009-12-14T18:53:00.000+07:00

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I'm still writing the never ending book. I can't bring myself to blog until it's done.

I might be some time.
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I think I've gone too far...

2009-12-11T11:52:00.000+07:00

There’s something really wrong about googling ‘man bleeding to death YouTube.’

These are the lengths that writers will go to in order to get things accurate. How people die in my book seems to be strangely important to me; like playing God. Even those occurring off-stage are significant.

My brother, a doctor, has been consulted over all of the deaths in my book. You been a bad person? You’re gonna get a nasty death… I love it.

Is that wrong?

Anyway… my googling ‘man bleeding to death YouTube’ also included the words ‘Holby City’ because my internet research threw up (Ha! pun intended) a character on the BBC medical drama with oesophageal varices (Link WARNING) bleeding to death and I wanted to have a watch of it! I couldn't find it on YouTube....

Oh blimey, hark at me. It IS wrong…

Three Little Words

2009-12-09T14:20:00.000+07:00

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I’m feeling good today. I’m sitting here with my green tea and feeling definitely Better About Things. Life hadn’t seemed quite right recently: our being here has always been year by contractual year and I thought I’d accepted that but this year feels different. And I didn’t like it.

So although I’ve woken up today with a definite sore throat (which I suspected was coming last night while I was out at a library dinner) I’m still feeling positive.

I have three words which I become mindful of in times of anxiety. I have employed these words so much in the last year when I have doubted. My personal little words are faith (in a non religious context) trust and courage. I took them out and polished them up and I just remembered them; In fact, yesterday I employed them in a wider context and maybe that’s helped too. They are magic little words that release my worries. See, how great are words?

Am I sounding a bit new agey crazy today? Oh good; I can live with that. There’s always been a bit of the hippy hidden away in me.

Many of the frenetic Christmas commitments are behind me; there are only a few upcoming obligations (all pleasurable) and so I am freer to concentrate again on the never ending book.

The never ending book still hasn’t ended but I’m getting on with it.

So what words do you need to be mindful of?
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Yoga plug - is that a pose?

2009-12-08T11:55:00.001+07:00

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Today I’m plugging for a friend.

Lovely (and most gorgeous) David Moreno is a yoga supremo and I met him two years ago when I went on a Skyros holiday on Koh Chang. I took his yoga class *ahem* most mornings and opted for his course on Ayurveda, which is a fascinating subject I knew nothing about. (I can't see someone's leg bouncing up and down on the spot without thinking 'Hmm, Vata...')

David is coming to Thailand this week as he’s teaching at Skyros in Koh Chang again. But, on his way back through Bangkok, he’s teaching a couple of sessions HERE in Bangkok at Yoga Elements Studio.

He’s taught yoga all over the world and when he’s not travelling, he’s based in San Francisco, teaching teachers, celebrities, athletes and, well, everyone else – even couch potatoes like me. I haven’t always had a particularly positive experience with yoga but David’s classes exemplify his sense of fun and playfulness; I really loved them. I wish he was based in Bangkok.

So for anyone in Bangkok who does yoga this is a really special chance to take a class with a brilliant teacher. You can find out details of the classes David's taking here.

OMG

2009-12-07T19:08:00.000+07:00

I wasn’t going to blog today.

But something remarkable has happened.

There’s a fifteen year old in my kitchen, cooking us supper. He’s decided what to cook, made lists, been shopping – where he bumped into Ms K, his head of year (how many ~~brownie~~ scout points?) and now he’s cooking beef fajitas and veggie fajitas.

OMG.
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Roll on those holidays

2009-12-05T11:31:00.001+07:00

Has there been a lot of whining here at Tea Stains lately? Or is it just me? Perhaps I have managed to keep most of the bleating posts in my head.

I’m no longer thinking in terms of missing my November deadline – which isn’t doing me any good – rather, I’m thinking about an end of December deadline. I was prevented from working for nearly three weeks by being in the UK in October and I need to tack that time onto the end of my new deadline so that I can stop beating myself up. Yes, I’m nearly there. I’ll let you know when I finish.

The exams have been done (the results? Not at all shoddy … well done Son) the school production of the Scarlet Pimpernel (absolutely bloody marvellous) finished last night and I’ve done all the artwork owing. But, everyone’s looking a bit spotty and blah; we’ve got definite cases of endoftermitus here at the Towers. Yeah, I know, we’re all tired… but we did start term in the middle of August.

Anyway, here’s a gratuitous picture of the school production. It’s a bit fuzzy… but I did that on purpose to create the period atmosphere. Yeah, right.

Today

2009-12-03T19:41:00.000+07:00

Father Christmas in his grotto

Cute choir from a local school

Christmas pudding and brandy sauce

A Someone? Or a No-one?

2009-12-02T18:00:00.001+07:00

I’m sitting in Starbucks (again, I'm considering shares... or maybe they'll sponsor me.) This time I’m up the road in the Grammy building. I hardly ever come here even though it’s the closest one to my apartment. In my first year in Bangkok I came here all the time with K (*Waves to K.*)

So far as I’m aware Grammy is The Place for pop music. It’s an entertainment company; a record label for big, big Thai pop stars. It’s always full of funky Thai youngsters and older, producery looking types. Or maybe I’m just letting my imagination run away with me.

Today though, it's not in my imagination; there’s a film crew here. There right here, feet away from me in Starbucks, not just in the Grammy building. I hope they don’t swing the camera around to catch me eating my muffin…

This is turning out to be the ultimate in procrastination. Watching; no idea what’s going on or who she is. I still can’t stop watching.

Yes, I have no shame.

I can blog this, I think. I'll get my camera...

Two reasons

2009-12-01T07:58:00.000+07:00

Here are two reasons why it's the 1 December and I haven't finished that draft...

What to read?

2009-11-30T08:33:00.000+07:00

Is this the longest ‘I’m nearly there…’ in history?

I am nearly there though. (And you’re all being wonderful, tolerant and cheering me on – even though I can imagine the gritted teeth…)

I finished Zoe Heller’s The Believers on Saturday. It had an utterly unlikeable main character and I wondered what I was doing continuing to read (well, it was wonderful despite that.) She was so cruel to her children and I didn’t feel enough understanding of her past to have much compassion for her. We knew a bit… but not enough to empathise. Of course it reminded me of the mother in my own story… and do we know enough, early enough, to identify with her?

I couldn’t decide what to read next… it’s too soon to start the next book club choice. Then I saw this BBC National Short Story Award article and that was it: decision made. The short story volume, Women fly when men aren’t watching by Sara Maitland.(Sara was involved in devising The Literary Consultancy's mentoring scheme.)
I think the universe is trying to tell me something because I’ve just received my prize from Salt Publishing of a copy of Short Circuit: A Guide to the Art of a Short Story, edited by Vanessa Gebbie.

So what’s the universe trying to tell me?

To write some short stories?

To bloody well get this draft finished so that I can try my hand at some short stories.
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word count confession

2009-11-29T19:24:00.001+07:00

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Sunday means only one thing to me. It’s word count confession day; this week's words: 3107.
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Saturday

2009-11-28T12:46:00.002+07:00

Writing suddenly got hard again.

There’s a lots of other work to do as well:

• Christmas hats to be finished
• year end books to be bought (up to budget) for the library and paperwork to complete
• events I’m committed to attending
• grotto signs to remake (This job feels like groundhog day: the first year I forgot to bring it home; the second year I remembered but it’s not looking so hot with bits of lettering peeling off – so yes, time to make it again.)
• several appointments which I put off until the start of Dec hoping that would be post finished draft…

Even Starbucks’ magic is waning. Still, I’ve found a rather lovely new place to work. Isn’t this beautiful?

This is Thailand Cultural and Design Centre. It’s a gallery space and design library at the top of Emporium Mall which is very close to home. It cost me £22 to join for a year.

I'm so close to finishing this draft and there are no excuses with this lovely space to do it in.

Friday Photo

2009-11-27T09:51:00.001+07:00

It's a bit bleurgh around here at the moment - or is that just me? So I'm posting this festive wish to all who visit Tea Stains. Please write your wishes here: (really or virtually)

Part of the Christmas display at Amarin Mall, Nov and Dec 2009.
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Odds and Ends

2009-11-26T15:01:00.000+07:00

Until yesterday afternoon I was busy suspending my disbelief. Against all expectations I really enjoyed The Time Traveller’s Wife. For the first half I had to keep pushing the niggling voice away that was taunting me for reading something that wasn’t realistic… but I thought it was a great idea, very believably executed. (As long as you didn’t try to work it out.)

I had some little elf helpers come over on Monday afternoon to help with the Christmas fascinators. So the hard work has been done and all I have to do now is assemble them. What a relief. I have a horrible control freak trait - that I want to do it all by myself. Thank goodness my friends didn’t stop asking ‘do you want help?’

On Monday evening I went out to the Night Market where we did a bit of shopping and then had a few beers so on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday morning I’ve been migrainous (is that a word? This morning’s drugs are due to wear out anytime now: I really hope I’ve kicked it into touch.) Ever since we’ve been here (2005) the Suan Lum Night Market has been ‘closing soon’ to make way for a mall (because Bangkok really needs another mall – from where I’m sitting now, in Starbucks, there are eight malls within ten minutes walk.) The night market is lovely and different and not as exhausting as Chatuchak weekend market which I guess is the alternative. The last time I went shopping in the Night Market, it was sad and the vendors were desperate which meant great bargains if you could find what you wanted. This time, it felt livelier and full of funky young designers. So I’m putting that back on my ‘tourist list of things to do in Bangkok.’

Writing? There are only four days until the end of November when this draft is meant to be declared done. Hmmm. Maybe I won’t make that after all. I’m not entirely sure what’s happened… apart from migraines… I am trying to talk to myself sternly to kick myself up the backside.

It seems I must blog...

2009-11-23T08:06:00.000+07:00

This ‘not blogging’ thing isn’t really working. Ever since I said I hadn’t got time for blogging, I’ve done considerably fewer words. Maybe blogging is my warm up…

So, I missed word count confession yesterday because I was out gallivanting. This week’s words then are 3,584 which is a fine and dandy word count but if I want to finish the draft by the end of the month, I’ve got to do better than that.

I finally finished Love in the time of Cholera which had been November’s book club’s choice and I hadn’t managed to finish for the meeting. Each time I picked up the book to read it I enjoyed it but I was never desperate to get back to it. It felt a bit like wading through treacle – quite pleasant but hard work. I think if I’d studied it I would have enjoyed it so much more. Is that okay? It’s not the immediate gratification that I want with a book I’m reading for pleasure but the depth of love can be so much greater if it’s been studied. Does anyone write with the hope that their book will be studied rather than just read?

Why is Florentino Ariza so entirely revolting? With his comb over and his constipation? Is it simply that love conquers all or have I missed something?

I don’t know what’s possessed me but my next choice is The Time Traveller’s Wife. No, *sigh* I haven’t read it already: my heart sinks at the notion of time travel – it’s the suspension of disbelief that I struggle with. Still, it was held up somewhere recently as a fine example of moving its readers (making them weep for all the right reasons) and I found myself thinking ‘oh, okay, perhaps I’d better read that.’ And... it has been on my TBR shelf for years and I'm getting SOOO much grief for the overflowingness of the TBR book shelves at at the moment that I thought I'd better read it… one down, 352 books to go.
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No time for blogging

2009-11-19T12:41:00.000+07:00

I’ve just hit 90,000 words.

Thursday is my day off writing because it’s usually Neilson Hays Library or BWG day but I couldn’t bear not to write because I AM SO NEAR THE END. I’ve got a website meeting this afternoon but it hasn’t stopped me writing. (Actually it should have done: I had a banner to make for the website and although I’ve started it, I won’t get it finished.)

Things have gone a bit wrong on the word meter over there on the left… And I can’t be bothered to stop and sort it out. Anyway I don’t know how many words are left… round about 5 or 6k I think.

So there’s no more blogging now either. No time to blog. Must. finish. this. draft.
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Email from Husband

2009-11-18T08:43:00.001+07:00

I received the following email from Husband a few days ago. I think, maybe, he's trying to tell me something. I'm just not quite sure... what.

Some Maths Homework

41 = Books read so far this year (from your blog book list)
2/12 = Fraction of the year remaining (November and December)
41*2/12 = 7 More books to read this year.
41+7 = 48 Books read in 1 year (forecast)

43 = Current age of reader.
16 = approx age reading reached current pace and books were not just Enid Blyton
43-16 = 27 reading years
27*48 = 1296 Books read so far.

500g = Average weight of quality paperback (use 200g for chick lit and 800g for Stephen King)
4cm = average thickness of quality paperback (use 2cm for chick lit and 6cm for Stephen King)
500g * 1296 = 648kg.
4cm * 1296 = 52m

500cm average width of bookcase shelves
5 average shelves per bookcase
500*5 = 2.5m per bookcase
52m/2.5m = 21 bookcases required to house your books; with a total weight of a small family car.
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A new low...

2009-11-17T16:12:00.002+07:00

A while back (although it might have been yesterday given the regularity I am reminded of this sad episode) I told you how I’d gone to sleep in Starbucks. I hadn’t accidentally fallen asleep; I’d realised I was tired, it was nice and warm in my armchair and I’d clasped my handbag to my front, and settled down for forty winks.

Honestly, you’d think I’d done something really dreadful like vomit down my front in public. I am reminded about this low episode, almost weekly. Thais sleep everywhere; on the pavement, in coffee shops, at traffic lights (I kid you not.) I was just showing how culturally immersed I’ve become, honest.

Anyway, today I sunk to a new low (no, not sleeping on the pavement; that is going too far.) Today, I had a little weep in Starbucks. It wasn’t quite a fully fledged sobbing episode but definitely a moist eyed, wobbly chin, in need of a tissue to mop up my runny nose, kind of weep.

I was writing you see. I’d got to a scene where I thought my MC was having some thinking alone time in the kitchen garden, when quite suddenly, Jean was out there, confessing stuff. Before you tell me how great this is – that if I’ve moved ME, I’ll move my readers – I don’t think the scene is ready yet, but it will hopefully get there.

When I got home I found this article. The website looks as though it will have other useful resources too.

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On a cheerier note: Yesterday I discovered that I have won a copy of Short Circuit from Salt Publishing: HURRAH. I cannot wait to read it.

This is the plan

2009-11-16T09:54:00.001+07:00

I’m hoping to finish the first draft by the end of November. You can see over on my wordmeter I’m in spitting distance from the end. I’m not 3k away… but more like 6-8k. I think. But even when I’ve typed ‘The End’ I won’t actually have finished the first draft because I’ve got an extra character, a subplot and a bit of business that needs to happen earlier, that need to be written into the first half of the book. I also have my mentor notes to act upon. When I wrote the first 60,000 words, I was receiving feedback from my mentor at TLC. When each report came back from her, I was frantically writing the next 10,000 words to send her. I would read her report but not go back into the text to change anything; partly because my head was now in the next section and partly because I needed to absorb and decide what to do about the feedback. But. I have had an offer of a read through from someone (it would be stupid to decline) and they need to do this in January. So. When I get to 'The End' my plans are to go straight back in to write in the new character, the new subplot and a structural change between a minor and the main character. When that’s done I will let it rest. I will put it in a drawer, let my reader see it in Jan and then start on it again. This is the plan.

Word count day

2009-11-15T16:21:00.003+07:00

Whirrrkiiiiplunkkkkeeee.

That’s the sound of my relief after four days of being offline at home and trying to negotiate with a Thai internet provider. It was quickly followed up by a surge in serotonin and a ‘wheeeeee’ sound. It really is a bit pathetic and I think I may need help.

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Okay, so Sunday is:
• Word count confession day.
• The day Daughter goes off on school residential.
• The eve of Son’s GCSE mock exams.

I can’t DO any more about any of those things. Words are written; bags and brains are packed with clothes and facts respectively. (I do hope Daughter's gone up north with the clothes and not the facts... What would Son do tomorrow in the exam hall to find his brain containing nothing but frivolous outfits?) Still, apart from checking who has packed what, I’ve done what I can.

This week's word count confession: 3814 words. Now I’m off to catch up with some blogs…

Friday Photo: London October 09

2009-11-13T12:27:00.009+07:00

I love this picture. At dusk in October the simple 'black and white' of the decorations and roofs made me think of Mary Poppins and Bert the chimney sweep. When the Christmas lights are turned on by a minor celebrity, I expect it'll morph into a garish and bland image.

Two faced

2009-11-11T11:47:00.003+07:00

I went to art college two years after my daughter (my second and last child) was born. I did it because I wanted to bring my children up but being at home seven days a week was starting to make me a bit mad. I was writing up until the time I went to art college. Mostly I was writing angst ridden stuff that will never see the light of day in any form other than an emotion for my fictional characters. But I was also trying (unsuccessfully) to write ‘how to’ articles for craft magazines. I hadn’t heard of perseverance in those days and my (non digital) photography skills were pitiful. However, it was pre-art college that through a friend, I wrote and recorded six or so talks for BBC Radio 2’s Pause for Thought. Then I forgot the writing and went off to art college. It took two days a week, for two years, to do a part time foundation course in Art and Design. How I loved Mondays. When everyone else I knew was bemoaning the end of the weekend, I was cheering: Monday and Tuesday were my days in college. Towards the end of my foundation course, I knew I had to do another course and so when Daughter was one term away from starting school, I enrolled for a full time degree in Fine Art at the same university. I knew, by the time this course started, that I was a maker (not a painter and I don’t like the term sculptor) and the more I made the less I felt the need to write. Except that I was writing essays – there’s always an element of theory – but I didn’t think about that as writing. So I thought that I needed one or the other: writing or making. I’m not sure that’s true any more. Making takes you to that place where your subconscious does magic stuff all on its own for the benefit of your writing. And see, I’m still desperate to make… Meet my two new friends; they’re helping with the hat making.

Thin Blue Smoke by Doug Worgul

2009-11-10T06:58:00.011+07:00

It is said that we should never judge a book by its cover but I’ve discovered many a wonderful read by just that method. (Pigtopia and Mothernight are two volumes whose visuals made me swoon with delight before even setting eyes on the blurb.) And so it was with Thin Blue Smoke, Doug Worgul's debut novel, published with Macmillan New Writing. It’s true that the book’s editor, Will Atkins, was there talking about how evangelical he feels about this book but there were five other gorgeous books present, and Thin Blue Smoke was the one I noticed and admired. ‘How’ Will Atkins said, ‘do you illustrate a book about BBQ without offending people?’ Just like this: I love the visual shorthand of the (poor) cow and the smoky font of the title. LaVerne Williams is the owner of Kansas City’s best BBQ joint: LaVerne Williams’ Genuine BBQ and City Grocery. It’s known to the locals as ‘Smoke Meat’, because that’s what’s painted two feet high on the front wall. LaVerne has firm ideas about barbecue (for heaven’s sake, don’t call it ‘barbeque’ ‘because that’s a sissy-ass way to spell’ it) and he isn’t afraid to expound his philosophies. Smoke Meat doesn’t serve fries, onion rings, coleslaw, potato salad or any kind of chicken; but it does serve beans. Not Kansas City beans because they’re too sweet and rich. Smoke Meat serves Texas beans ‘just the way LaVerne’s grandmother made them.’ He snarls and he snaps at folk, but he’s a good man – don’t go on about it though, LaVerne can’t be doing with people going on about things. Thin Blue Smoke is as an epic redemption tale of LaVerne and his friend and customer, Ferguson Glen. LaVerne, a tall, skinny black man, is an ex baseball player (he was invalided out) and a reformed felon. He’s married to Angela and their only son, Raymond, died at nineteen. Ferguson Glen is tall, white man; an alcoholic, Episcopal priest who has never pastored a parish. At 24 he wrote a Pulitzer Prize nominated novel. His one and only marriage failed the day before their honeymoon finished. The diner, Smoke Meat is the pivot of the novel; the narrative revolves around the tendrils of lives and relationships of the employees and customers. It’s a novel about community; about friendships that transcend, race, religion and gender. It considers blood ties and how they can mean everything or nothing. It’s about chances in life and overcoming the lack of them and about making mistakes again and again but still being given another chance. It’s about faith – in the widest possible sense. It looks like the randomness of friendships but what most of the characters share, and interwoven throughout, are a desire to do the right thing, and a passion for music and food. More important to the story than what happens is how it happens. There is so much more I want to tell you about this novel because I don’t think I’ve come close to doing it justice. I want to tell you about more of the characters, about AB Clayton, and why I loved him. I want to tell you about Delbert Douglass Merisier III and his friend Harholz, both of whom lost their wives in tragic circumstances; and Bob Dunleavy and his son Warren, who has a delusional disorder and speaks in Lapine, the language of rabbits. I want to say that despite the foreignness of the book, summed up by Smoke Meat’s unfamiliar menu: Vinegar Pie (a dessert!), Pulled Pork, Pulled Chuck and Burnt Ends, I was among friends and I felt absolutely bereft when I had to leave them behind. Thin Blue Smoke is tragic, funny and real. My only negative comment is that if debut novels are always this good, is it worth persevering with my own? Doug Worgul’s website is here: There are interviews here and here. UPDATE: You can hear Will Atkins, Doug Worgul's editor at Macmillan New Writing, talking to Sue Cook and guests on Write Lines on BBC Radio Oxford until Sat/Sun.