THE WRITER IS LOOSE

Have just spent twenty-five infuriating minutes trying to restore my photo to this blogspot after its mysterious disappearance the other week. Where did it go? And why? Is someone trying to tell me something? I found it - in the end. But not before all manner of expletives had turned the air blue and the PC had almost ended up crashing through the window!

It is Wednesday 25 February 2009 - it is just ten months until Christmas day! Ok. Ok. I promise I won't mention Christmas again until much nearer the time. It is now 07.47 and I am in the office at the day job, having come in early specifically to do a new blog. It is a grey, overcast morning. The sky is like moulten lead, the air is still and the 10,000 seagulls that seem to have adopted the airspace immediately above us recently, are nowhere to be seen. In fact it seems a little too quiet. The weather itself has improved marginally. After some drizzle yesterday, today it is at least warmer and dryer.

This is of great relief to my left knee which is very unwell and rather desperately in need of an operation to put it right. It really cannot tolerate the cold at the moment, but even when it isn't cold, that knee just can't tolerate anything. If I sit still for too long, it grizzles and complains. If I try to run anywhere it moans and groans. If it decides it has walked enough it sings grand-opera! A physiotherapist friend of mine spotted me hobbling about on it a few weeks back and promptly wrote a referral to my doctor, who contacted the hospital, who organised an appointment, that was overseen by a consultant, who concluded it is arthritis. I am scheduled for an op ( my first one since my appendix almost burst twenty odd years ago) which will involve the bones beeing scraped and the knee itself being flushed out. It sounds horrific but if it means I will eventually be able to walk without being in agony, and sleep through the night safe in the knowledge that I won't wake up in desperate pain at one in the morning, then I am prepared to put myself through it. Anyway it will mean two weeks off work so who am I to complain? That, to me, means two weeks in which to Write, Write, Write.

Things have really started to move of late. I have signed up with two publishing groups who employ so-called Ghost writers and within days, one of them sent me a brief for a series of boy's adventure stories. The commission will mean five books, each between ten and twelve thousand words, targeted at 7 to 10 year olds. I have been very busy drafting the one sample chapter they need by the end of next week to put me in the running. So far, so good. I am loving it. I work so much better when I have a schedule (or a deadline) to work to. And even if I don't get it, at least the company took me seriously enough to give me the option to have a go! Who knows where it could lead to?

The new Yucketypoo book, I have been told, is due to be published 'very soon' similtaneously in the UK and the USA; furthermore, the first book is about to be re-branded so its appearance looks more in line with the second book and, eventually, with the third and final book. The third and final book needs updating and I am arranging a meeting with a representative of a company that deals with envirornment friendly fuels to help it on its way. Once the entire series is complete, maybe those large chain retailers that expressed an interest in stocking it as one unit will pick up the option and give it their best shot.

On top of all that - I am very pleased to announce - the poet is back! I am looking at a number of new openings that could lead to regular Work so fingers crossed.

I tell you, this writing life! When it is going badly, it feels like the end of the world. But when it is going well - the sky's the limit.

Gotta dash - it is 08.23 and the day job commences in seven minutes ...................