So make your way over to meet my other personalities! One of them likes to dabble in photography, and the other is a singer/guitarist/pianist/songwriter. The three of us are pretty good friends, actually, and sometimes we even influence each other. They're waiting to meet you too, so ... spit spot!
I'm slow and I'm proud of it. I spend hours perfecting a scene instead of moving on with the next. This means that I don't finish writing novels as fast as most.
Remember those word count statistics I posted the other day? Well, guess how long I spent each day producing those 1000 - 1400 word bursts? Pretty much 4, 5, 6 hours per day. Crazy you think? I do too.
But I can't do it any other way. Seriously. I don't feel SATISFIED doing it any other way. So I'll say it again. I'm slow, and I'm PROUD of it. So stop telling me that I write too slowly you dimwit who thinks you know it all! (Okay, no one is saying that to me, really. But I have to blame someone for that little voice that keeps telling me to speed up, so 'dimwit' it'll be).
Anyway, I suppose the plus side of this is that it means my first drafts are in second draft shape. That means that I get to skip a WHOLE stage of the editing process. I hope. Let's hope.
Cross your fingers for me?
PS: On a side note. What's with the disappearing followers? I've lost TWO in a week. How sad :o( What did I say? I've had a few busy weeks and couldn't make it to as many blogs as I like, do you think that's the reason?
PPS: Tomorrow I'm being interviewed over at Alesa Warcan's Part Gilt - Part Gold. I'll remind you all again tomorrow. The interview is not what you would expect, though. Tomorrow I reveal and showcase a couple of my other artistic outlets, thanks to the generous Alesa who is graciously letting me take over for the day :o)
No, I'm not being filthy-minded here, I'm talking about my writing rhythms.
I realised something about myself this weekend: as soon as I reach climax, my mojo pipes down. (Again, I'm not talking about sex people -- get your minds out of the gutter! And anyway, if I were talking about sex, wouldn't that be normal?)
Right, back to the point at hand.
I find that once I've written just past the climax point in my stories, I feel like I have to go back and edit everything I've written before I go ahead and tackle denouement.
This morning I received an email that had me in stitches and I thought I'd share it's wonderful and hilarious content. Prepare to be pResentary SurpWised ...
Today is the day I've been expecting to arrive sooner or later. The day when I'm lost for blog post words.
So I'm just going to tell you this:
I'm tired.
My hair is a mess.
I have to work when I want to write.
I want to write every spare moment I have but I also want a holiday.
I can't find anyone to look after my dog so that I can go on holiday and I'm pissed off.
I have to pay stupid amounts of money to the government for being self-employed - BASTARDS.
I want to buy myself DVDs - simple little pleasures but I can risk not having spare money in case something breaks - because something always breaks when you buy something unnecessary - it's just the law of the land.
My dog's claw dug into my right middle finger tip this morning (HOW?) and it hurts to type with it.
The dishes have piled up and I can't bear to look.
We need milk and I can't be bothered getting any - so I'm drinking black coffee - yuk.
I have mail waiting for me to pick it up at the post office and I can't be bothered getting it - for freakin' sake just learn to deliver to people's doors like normal countries. Ugh.
My wallet is empty - need to go to the bank. If I go to the bank, I might as well go to the post office, and if I go there, I might as well get some milk. No. I won't go to the bank. (Spilio? You got any cash?)
I should finish writing these teacher's notes. Yes. Can't be avoided. (takes sip of coffee, UGH! no milk! Oh, we don't have any. Perhaps I should go buy some. Spilio, you got any cash? Oh, don't worry, I'll go to the bank. What's that? You want me to pick up your mail? Really? I have to walk all the way down there? Crap. I might as well get mine, then.)
Life is a monotonous pain in the butt today. But that being said, I think I like it. Does it really have to take a whole blog post of rant to make me realise the goodness in not having to commute to work and the goodness in being able to cuddle my dog whenever I like?
Ah, Holly Bolly Wally Wood, I wuv you ... you always make evewyfing wuvwey. Thanks for hewping me wif my work, I couldn't do it wifout you ...
After my post about keeping track of word count, which if you haven't read you can read it here, I conducted a little experiment. I had to convince myself that I was right, because you know, we don't always practice what we preach, do we? Of course I sneak a look at my word count! You kidding?
This is what I did:
For five consecutive days, I kept track of what I wrote per day, by bookmarking where I stopped. (And boy was that a feat for me, because I don't think I have written more than two or three days in a row before.) And I stopped writing when I couldn't write any more; where I felt I had come to a natural break in my thought process; where if I was to write any more I think it would have been forced and gobbledygook.
At the end of the five days, I counted the words I wrote for each day, and to my surprise, day by day my word count grew. What do you think that means? Do you think it means my mind felt free, and it took advantage of not having any pressure on it?
Here are the stats:
Day one: 1065
Day two: 1156
Day three: 1277
Day four: 1282
Day five: 1404
Who's up for trying this and letting me know their results?
Here is a video clip that shows 'the' famous eyebrows. It was made in 1985. I was four. Mum is wearing sunglasses in the beginning, so you'll have to wait till she takes them off. Also, if you can manage to watch it till the end, you'll see me reaching my arms out toward the camera, in the red sparkly costume I borrowed from my neighbour. I was so uspet that the clip wasn't in colour. I so wanted my red costume to sparkle ... but it was not meant to be ...
This blog fest is hosted by Alex J. Cavanaugh. Please do go to check out the other entries linked to his blog.
These are my 12 most favourite movies. Some made me cry for hours afterward. Some made me laugh so hard my stomach hurt. Some soothed my teen angst. Some I studied at high school or university and will never forget because they have been analysed to death (but I still love 'em), and some inspired me to write. I won't go into any detail about each (manly because I could spend an entire day writing how each affected my life and I don't have the luxury to do so), but I'll include short summaries from IMBd (linking it to save my arse) in case you haven't seen them and would like to. If you'd like to know any specific details about how any of these movies influenced me, feel free to ask in the comments and I'll reply. Enjoy! They're in no particular order.
Director:
Stephen Daldry
Writers:
Michael Cunningham (novel),
David Hare (screenplay)
Plot summary:
The story of how the novel "Mrs. Dalloway" affects three generations of women, all of whom, in one way or another, have had to deal with suicide in their lives.
Director:
John Erman
Writers:
Olive Higgins Prouty (novel)
Robert Getchell (screenplay)
Plot Summary:
Stella is determined, courageous, vulgar, unfashionable...and all her daughter has. Through the trials of teenagehood, to the problems of adulthood, Stella will do anything for Jenny...ending in an selfless, unforgettable sacrifice.
Director:
Jane Campion
Writer:
Jane Campion
Plot summary:
It is the mid-nineteenth century. Ada is a mute who has a young daughter, Flora. In an arranged marriage she leaves her native Scotland accompanied by her daughter and her beloved piano. Life in the rugged forests of New Zealand's South Island is not all she may have imagined and nor is her relationship with her new husband Stewart. She suffers torment and loss when Stewart sells her piano to a neighbour, George. Ada learns from George that she may earn back her piano by giving him piano lessons, but only with certain other conditions attached. At first Ada despises George but slowly their relationship is transformed and this propels them into a dire situation.
Director:
Penny Marshall
Writers:
Kim Wilson (story) &
Kelly Candaele (story)
Lowell Ganz (screenplay) &
Babaloo Mandel (screenplay)
Plot synopsis:
Two sisters join the first female professional baseball league and struggle to help it succeed amidst their own growing rivalry.
Director:
Mark Herman
Writers:
John Boyne (novel)
Mark Herman (screenplay)
Plot summary:
Set during World War II, a story seen through the innocent eyes of Bruno, the eight-year-old son of the commandant at a concentration camp, whose forbidden friendship with a Jewish boy on the other side of the camp fence has startling and unexpected consequences.
Director:
Ridley Scott
Writers:
Hampton Fancher (screenplay) and
David Webb Peoples (screenplay) (as David Peoples)
Philip K. Dick (novel "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?")
Plot summary:
Deckard, a blade runner, has to track down and terminate 4 replicants who hijacked a ship in space and have returned to earth seeking their maker.
Director:
John Waters
Writer:
John Waters
Plot summary:
"Drape" (or Greaser) Wade Walker, also known as Cry-Baby for his ability to shed a single tear, falls head over heels for square Allison Vernon-Williams who, incidentally, is tired of being good.
Director:
John Waters
Writer:
John Waters
Plot summary:
'Pleasantly Plump' teenager Tracy Turnblad achieves her dream of becoming a regular on the Corny Collins Dance Show. Now a teen hero, she starts using her fame to speak out for the causes she believes in, most of all integration. In doing so, she earns the wrath of the show's former star, Amber Von Tussle, as well as Amber's manipulative, pro-segregation parents. The rivalry comes to a head as Amber and Tracy vie for the title of Miss Auto Show 1963.
Director:
Jack HofsissWriters:
Barbara Gordon (book)
David Rabe (writer)
Plot summary:
Jill Clayburgh plays, as one character calls her, "a pill-popping dingbat" in this film adaptation of television producer Barbara Gordon's autobiographical account of her addiction to prescription drugs. Clayburgh plays Gordon in the film as a successful television documentary filmmaker whose mounting pressures force her to pop a Valium or two for nerves. She then ingests a few more pills after an argument with boyfriend Derek Bauer (Nicol Williamson). And thus begins her slow and steady compulsion to keep taking more and more Valium. Finally realizing her addiction, Gordon makes a disastrous attempt to go cold turkey but fails miserably, finally having to undergo a painful rehabilitation in an institution.
Post script:
This movie made my mother realise she wasn't sick, and that it was the Valium that was affecting her. This movie made her decide to quit taking the pills.
Director:
Marco Ferreri
Writers:
Marco Ferreri (scenario & adaptation) and
Rafael Azcona (scenario & adaptation)
Francis Blanche (dialogue)
Plot summary:
A group of men hire some prostitutes and go to a villa in the countryside. There, they engage in group sex and resolve to eat themselves to death.
Director:
Frank Darabont
Writers:
Stephen King (short story "Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption")
Frank Darabont (screenplay)
Plot summary:
Andy Dufresne is a young and successful banker whose life changes drastically when he is convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment for the murder of his wife and her lover. Set in the 1940's, the film shows how Andy, with the help of his friend Red, the prison entrepreneur, turns out to be a most unconventional prisoner.
This last film is my MOST favourite film ever. Check out the extraprdinarily brilliant scene in the vid below. If you intend to watch this film, don't watch the scene as it's the ending of the film.
Director:
Baz Luhrmann
Writers:
Baz Luhrmann
Plot summary:
Scott Hastings is a champion caliber ballroom dancer, but much to the chagrin of the Australian ballroom dance community, Scott believes in dancing "his own steps". Fran is a beginning dancer and a bit of an ugly duckly who has the audacity to ask to be Scott's partner after his unorthodox style causes his regular partner to dance out of his life. Together, these two misfits try to win the Australian Pan Pacific Championships and show the Ballroom Confederation that they are wrong when they say, "there are no new steps!"
They talk so much that they forget they have to actually move in order to move forward in life; one foot in front of the other to get to their destination/goal. You'd think it would be easy. Right? But no, they're all talk and no action. Bloody idiots. Don't they realise that they're ruining my story? Don't they realise that I can't get them what they want until they get off the freaking phone and reach for it themselves? Who do they think I am? Their puppet master? They need a damn good talking to, if you ask me. If only they'd let me get a word in once in a while ...
How about your character's? Do they talk until they're blue in their virtual faces? Or are you always trying to keep up with them to find out how they feel?
I had another post scheduled for today, but something this morning made me want to watch a little Torvill and Dean, so I've moved my original post to tomorrow. If you don't know who this breathtakingly brilliant figure skating couple are, you are seriously missing out. Torvill and Dean revolutionized figure skating, and there has not been one partnership yet to outrank them. At the 1984 Winter Olympics the pair became the highest scoring figure skaters of all time, receiving twelve perfect 6.0s. Please do take the time to watch these routines, or at least one of them the whole way through. If you appreciate performing arts, you won't be disappointed. These routines bring me to tears, every single time, if not for anything else, merely for their beauty and creativity.
I have very few words for you today. Get rid of your word-o-meters! They kill creativity.
Write your first draft until you think your story is FINISHED - COMPLETE. Until your story has a beginning, middle and an end. Until you have covered all your plot points in your outline. Until you get that tingling through your limbs when you instinctively know you have just written that very last word.
I repeat ...
DO NOT CHECK YOUR WORD COUNT UNTIL YOUR STORY IS FINISHED!
Really, what's the point? Seeing how many words you've written is not going to change the fact that you are writing. All it does is make you think you haven't written enough. Forget it. Stop doing things that make you feel bad about yourself. You do not need to see a number in order to feel satisfied with your progress. Just write it. Write it and finish it, and then check your word count when you feel your story has beentold.
I'd like to apologise for not getting to many of you yesterday, but it's not my fault :o( I really wanted to but blogger was being a shit. Thanks so much to all who dropped by mine to confirm their title votes. You're all fantastic!
I've decided on BITTER LIKE ORANGE PEEL for WIP1. The paragraph below, which I have now tweaked to suit the title even more after Nicole Ducleroir's comment yesterday inspired me, is the reason for the title choice. Thank you so much Nicole!
Kit leans against the kitchen sink, squinting at the sunlight creeping through the orange tree by the window. Over-ripe oranges are rotting on the concrete, and the bitter scent of trodden rind is wheedling its way through the cracks in the wooden frame. She thinks about ‘him’ rotting; staining every footpath she is bound to tread with his bitter memory; contaminating her mother’s tongue with his bitter taste at the mere mentioning of his name. But Kit wants to taste the fruit; a need that has been stalking her since Ivy moved away. She wants to find the real ‘him’; she wants to know who he is below the rind.
For WIP2, I'm a little ambivalent now. It'll be either PLEASE DON'T WEAR YOUR EYEBROWS TO SCHOOL AGAIN, or LOOKS LIKE CANDY, TASTES LIKE MUSIC.
Now I'm even thinking, SOUNDS LIKE CANDY, TASTES LIKE MUSIC ... decisions decisions ... :o)
Anyhoo ...
I'm supposed to be participating in the Character Interview Blogfest today, but unfortunately I couldn't find the time to actually write it. I'm not going to have time to make the rounds either, so cover for me will ya? ;o) Check out the other entries at Sangu's Echoes of a Wayward Mind.
Okey dokey folkies, this title blog fest on Saturday was VERY interesting, don't you think? I got so many different reactions, plus some that I hadn't even considered - especially with the titles for my memoir.
Today I'm going to show you the results, tell you what my working titles are, and what each book is about. One thing I will say now though, is that the title that got the most votes out of everything, PLEASE DON'T WEAR YOUR EYEBROWS TO SCHOOL AGAIN, was chosen because you thought it would be a funny book. The FUNNY thing with that is, the book is the complete opposite of funny, and I considered that title for what it metaphorically represents in the story. You can read a short excerpt of how it is used in the introduction of my memoir here, if you feel like it.
Anyway, here are the results:
WIP 1 (women's/general fiction)
Curiosity Cured The Kit = This is my working title and it got only 8votes.
Secrets + Lies = Truth = 8 votes
Bitter Like Orange Peel = 12 votes
The Roger Thing = 3 votes
More Than Absence = 11 votes
Now here is my UNPOLISHED plot summary: Two half sisters, Kit and Ivy, decide to search for their father, Roger. Their mothers, Ailish and Eleanor, who are best friends, do not want to get involved and leave them to fend for themselves. Kit is convinced that the reason for his absence all their lives is due to him being involved in the secret service. Ivy, who lives on the other side of the world, and who is in the midst of finding her feet again after a divorce, supports Kit's decision to find Roger, but couldn't really care less about it until evidence is revealed that supports Kit’s theory. All Ivy's life she has just believed he was unable to commit and abandoned her and her mother without any guilt. However, when the sisters' effort to find leads to Roger’s whereabouts, digs up a tangled mess of secrets and lies that Ailish and Eleanor have bottled up for decades, not to mention another sister they didn’t know about, their own relationship becomes threatened. Will their father live up to their expectations? And Is revealing the truth worth destroying what family they already have?
Now what title would you choose?
WIP 2 (memoir)
We're Not Ordinary People = This is my working title and it only got 3 votes.
Until I'd Fall Asleep With My Teeth Clenched = 3 votes
Her Tablet Courage = 2 votes
Please Don’t Wear Your Eyebrows To School Again = 21 votes
Looks Like Candy, Tastes Like Music = 16 votes
Basis of story:
This memoir is about being the only child of gothic rock musicians, focusing primarily on my relationship with my drug-addicted mother, and my experiences dealing with her drug withdrawal, anxiety, panic, violent rages, erratic mood swings, etc etc.
Now what title would you choose?
Furthermore, are the stories at all what you suspected?
Ok, this is a pretty damn easy blog fest if you ask me, but seriously fun and fantasticular idea - no, that was not meant to sound like a mix between fantastic and testicle, but hey, it happened.
The lovely host is slushpile slut. Make sure you nip over to hers to check out the other participants in her side bar.
The deal today is to list three to five possible titles for your current WIP(s), in order to see what response they get without knowing anything about the story. So what titles of mine attract the most attention? Muster the most curiosity? What titles would spark your interest and make you pick it up to take a closer look?
(Me - and no, not once upon a time, I'm still alive and kicking, well typing as this moment may have it, typing really hard, SHIT, I'd better slow down or I'll break my keyboard ...)
Who involuntarily lived in dog-pooey mess
(You know, I would really appreciate once in a while for my 'better half' to pick up his FRESHLY WASHED clothes up off the floor, or wipe up his crumbs after making a sandwich. Or, you know what? Don't let the dog shit accumilate in the corner of the balcony for a whole week, ESPECIALLY IN THIS HEAT, and expect me to clean it up. You said we'd alternate poo-pick-up days. That does not mean, that on my poo-pick-up day off it should stay there!
And is it really necessary to have to ask me how to make a salad? I mean, making a salad shouldn't be that difficult, really. He pulls all the ingredients out of the fridge, then looks at me, holding the lettuce in his hand, and says:
"Now what?"
I say, "Um ... oh, I don't know. I think we have to boil it first. What do you think?")
Frustrated by the stench
She put the dog poo on the kitchen bench
And ... ugh, she's kidding herself; he couldn't care less.
Right ladies and gentlemen, now that I've got that off my chest, what have your 'better halves' done lately to frustrate you? Take this opportunity to rant about their most unimportant annoying attributes, guilt free. I'm here, and listening, and not judging, and not going to tell you to focus on the reason why you love them, the reason why you married this person, or had kids with them. We all know that you wouldn't be with them if the positive didn't outweight the negative, but we all know, don't we, that sometimes, just sometimes, we need to nag, rant, hassle, we need to say what pisses us off no matter how small and insignificant it is compared to the bigger picture. Today my comments section shall be devoted to complaints. :o) So, knock yourselves out bloggers and bloggerettes!
I have an obsession with new pens. My obsession with pens is as desperate as a woman's obsession with shoes. I love the feeling of a new pen gliding smoothly over the paper, staining the bold vibrant ink into the page; making it's permantent mark; bleeding into the fibres with red hot determination. Ok, that's going a little over board *ahem*, but I think you get the point now ...
I don't think I have ever used a pen until the ink ran out in my entire life. And I use a lot of pens, especially red ones for editing press proofs for work ... that was until today. My pen actually stopped working because it ran out of ink. DUN DUN DUN ... I can't believe it! I sat here, staring at it in disbelief. Scribbling on a scrap piece of paper, trying to make it work again, thinking, this can't be happening. And you know what's worse? I don't have another red pen to replace it.
What does that say about me? Do I ever leave my desk? Or house for that matter? Have I neglected my life long love of browsing through a stationary store, inspecting the pen nibs to see if they are too thick or too thin? Crikey! What's happened to me?
So today, I'm going to go shopping for pens. Oh gosh, I'm so excited! Yes, call me nuts, but I ain't ashamed. I gotta get me that obsession back - it's one obsession I think I should be proud of. This obsession was the spark of a greater obsession - writing - so I don't think I should let it disappear.
How about you? Do you have an obsession, other than writing, that you are proud of?
My job is like being liquid paper that keeps cracking and crumbling off. The more you recoat it, the more rough it becomes and you feel like just getting a clean piece of paper and writing the whole thing again from scratch. As many of you know, I write English teaching materials for a living. I haven't spoken much about it here because it's what consumes my day; it's what I want to escape.
Yes, my job sounds wonderful. *cringe* Even I think I'm lucky most of the time. *cringe again* I get to work the hours I want (well not really because when I'm working for the company in the UK, I need to be at my computer 9-5 so that we can communicate in real time), I can take holidays whenever I want because I'm my own boss and I dictate when I work and what jobs I want to take (well not really because remember that dry month? The month where I didn't get commissioned any work and I spent all my savings on the bills? Yes, that means I can't afford a holiday. It also means I can't be choosey about jobs. I take what I can get.), I get to make a living writing, it's what I love (well not really, writing vocabulary and grammar exercises is not what I love. There are only so many different ways one can teach them, and the Teacher's Books are the worst, monotonous as hell: "Tell the students to open their books at page 10. Ask them what they can see in the pictures (a bear and an elaphant). Ask them if they can remember what they are called in English ..." You get the drift?) Yes, English language teachers are lazy in this country. They have to have everything spelled out. I sometimes wonder why we don't include something like this: "Before students finish the exercise, take the time to go to the toilet to relieve yourself of all the coffee you drank before class."
When I tell people in Australia that I’m a writer/editor, they automatically think magazine, newspaper, fiction. Whoah! I wish. Then, I have to explain that there is no possibility whatsoever of landing a writing/editing position as such in Greece, unless I can fluently read and write Greek. They then ask me how I’m doing my job now if I can’t fluently read and write Greek. And without trying to sound condescending I emphasize the words Ennnglish Lannnguage Teeeaching, and wonder if I should offer them a free tutorial.
Anyhoo, back to the drawing board for me today (well writing board). Today I'm writing a ... drum roll ... Teacher's Book (Ugh), for a blah blah book. I won't say for what book or for what company because I actually have to sign a confidentiality agreement. Isn't that weird? I guess they don't want other companies stealing ideas. Hahahaha ... as I said earlier, there are only so many ways one can teach English ...
So, the things that I LIKE about my job (time to get positive here) is that I don't have anyone looking over my shoulder when I'm working. I can nip over to your blogs every 30 minutes or so (Ok, so I lied, more like every 5), and relieve my boredom. AND I also have my name on SOMETHING (see photo). I used to get a little kick outta seeing my name on a cover of an ELT book. Now I don't even bat an eyelid. I want my name on MY OWN book. I want my novels to be published. I want to never write another teacher's book again ... Ah, dreams ... please come true ...
So what do YOU do? What do you LIKE and DISLIKE about your job?
I've seen this around the blogosphere so have decided to follow suit as it's a pretty entertaining excuse to escape from the monotony of my work.
Below are my movie main characters for my complete novel DEAD IN THE CORNER OF MY BEDROOM. What's my book about? Pfft, you'll figure it out ...
Name: Jane Hill-Konstantinou
Age: 30
Character: Protagonist
Occupation: Editor / Musician
Motive: Wants to resurrect her passion to play music; to become a rock star; to better her relationship with her husband; to be a better and less neglectful mother; to reconcile her relationship with her own bipolar mother; to be stronger-willed; to not be seen as a housewife / career-oriented stereotype any longer and to finally pursue something she loves instead of giving up when confronted with pressure to conform to society.
Name: Max Konstantinou
Age: 40
Character: Jane's husband
Occupation: Music events manager / coordinator
Motive: To help get Jane's passion back on track; to be a better husband, (and to conceal his affair).
Name: Tessa
Age: 4
Character: Jane and Max's daughter
Occupation: doll beautician ;)
Motive: to beautify dolls; to grow up quick; to lick Doggy's nose just like Doggy licks hers; to stress Jane out and make her doubt her ability to be a good mother.
Name: Betty
Age: 55
Character: Jane's mother
Occupation: Ex-musician
Motive: To reconcile her relationship with Jane. Jane's history with Betty makes Jane wonder whether it would just be better to remain a stereotype, so as not to turn out like Betty, and therefore not neglect Tessa. Name: James
Age: 56
Character: Jane's father
Occupation: Ex-musician
Motive: Passive man who is wrapped around Betty's little finger. But eventually makes Jane understand that he is still his own person and chose to be a dominated by Betty for the sake of keeping peace between them. Not a very stable father character, but it makes Jane realise that she should NOT follow in his footsteps. He is also her confidant during her dilemma about whether to take the promotion in London or whether to pursue her dream to be a rock star and accept the offer to tour. Name: Serena
Age: 30
Character: Jane's best friend
Occupation: Social-worker and volunteer for United Nations
Motive: To help Jane survive through tragedy, to help Jane get back on her feet after tragedy. Before the tragedy she is Jane's msn chat outlet when conflicted. Name: Heather
Age: 40
Character: Jane's closest work colleague
Occupation: Editor
Motive: Comic relief, Jane's escape from reality and from the monotony of the everyday. She and Jane mutually hate their workplace and the people in it and think the grass must be greener elsewhere.
Name: Charlie
Age: 35
Character: Jane's ex-metal head boyfriend
Occupation: Tour manager
Motive: To convince Jane to tour America with a band on his client list, due to a member quitting. This happens after Jane finds out about Max's affair and no longer wants his help.
Name: Richard Viadro
Age: 38
Character: Jane's (brief) love interest, and potential new boss in London
Occupation: Academic Director of Publishing Company
Motive: To get Jane to go on a date with him. To get Jane to accept promotion in London.
Well! There you have it. My actors. Have you ever thought about doing this? I'd love to see some other fellow bloggers do this. So. You know what? I'm going to tag some of you! I hope I don't get a slap on the wrist for inventing a tag. But hey, what came first, the chicken or the egg?
You can always decline if you wish, but please DON'T, it's so fun!
