MIA

Hi

I haven't been around for a while as I was devoting too much time to blogging and too little time to editing.

I am hunkering down to grapple with POV for my multi-protagonist story and, while it isn't grueling, it requires focus.

So, I hope to be back on the blogosphere in another week.

Hope you are all doing well.

Colleen

Just for you: a fun exercise in editing

Doing a bit of research on designer handbags and shoes (I know, tough job) I came across this ad at Footcandy Shoes:

"Slouchy and soft in croc-embossed leather. This bag is completly lined in nylon with zip clousure pocket and accessable cell phone pocket. 6.5in handle drop with decrative tassel detail. 12"H X 15"L X 5"W"

And this brilliant bio...

(I'm sure there are more gems to be found at Footcandy, but, sadly, I couldn't spend all day there.)

Manolo Blahnik

Manolo Blahnik began his extraordinary career in the Seventies and continues to be a champion of timeless and beautifully crafted designs. His shoes are synonymous with high glamour and full-throttle sex appeal and have become as famous as the women who wear them. Born in 1943 in the Canary Islands to a Spanish mother and Czech father and raised on a banana plantation, Blahnik's formative years could not have been further from the fashion capitals of the world. He began by studying architecture and literature at the University of Geneva but abandoned his studies after just a year in favor of moving to Paris 1968. He moved to London two years later where he worked briefly as a photographer for the Sunday Times and immediately fell into the fashion set, making friends with Paloma Picasso and photographer Eric Boman. During a trip to New York in 1971 with his new friends, Blahnik was introduced to Diana Vreeland, then the editor-in-chief of US Vogue, by Picasso. At the time, Blahnik wanted to be a theatre designer but, once he had been persuaded to show her his sketches and after admiring the shoes he had on - a tiny Edwardian pair from Portobello Market - Vreeland insisted that he "should concentrate on the funny little things on the feet". And Blahnik obeyed. His first collection was designed for Ossie Clark in 1972. In 1973, he opened Zapata, a boutique on Old Church Street in London which soon became regularly frequented by Bianca Jagger, Marie Helvin and Jerry Hall. Now universally known as 'Manolo's', Blahnik's shoes are coveted by a long list of famous clientele from celebrities to royalty. Bianca wore them to make her famous Studio 54 entrance on a white horse in 1977, and Diana, Princess of Wales wore them to the Serpentine Gallery in 1994 on the night that Prince Charles admitted his infidelity on television. Madonna once described shoes designed by Blahnik as "better than sex" and added that, "what's more, they last longer". Later, his name became even better known when his designs took 'supporting roles' on the hit television shows Absolutely Fabulous and Sex And The City. A craftsman with an impeccable eye for detail, Blahnik plays the major part in the creation of his designs, from the initial sketches to creating his own advertising campaigns which always feature his drawings. In 2003, he was honored with a retrospective exhibition of his drawings, memorabilia and collections at the Design Museum in London.

This is ridiculous

Noticing that it was after 10 a.m. and I hadn't done anything productive with my writing (which has been the case for days now) I figured I'd better get my rear in gear and, at the very least, enter some of the hard copy edits I've made.

Holy Hannah. Holy friggin' Hannah. (Although what's really going through my head is substantially more profane.)

I have notes on various copies/versions of the ms, handwritten sections to be added, and electronic edits provided by my friend Becca.

I am officially daunted.

I've now had too much coffee and my stomach is jittery and my hands are twitching and I'm looking at the mess before me with hypertrophied eyes praying for some insight on where and how to begin.

And so, I inhale and exhale with great deliberation -- a few times -- hoping the phone will ring or my stomach will stop doing somersaults or the stiffness in my neck will miraculously loosen.

What I wouldn't give for a secretary right now.

But the phone isn't ringing and my stomach is still doing the jive and my neck is pulling the muscles from between my shoulder blades to those bony knobs at the base of my skull. There's nothing for it, but to begin.

And so, I dive.

Wish me luck.

Colleen

New chapter

What a great editing day it's been today! While waiting in the city for my son to do some volunteer work at the film festival office, I sat at a coffee shop and wrote a partial chapter to replace the one I hated. I am really happy with this addition as, I believe, it helps to complete an element of tension for one of my protagonists that wasn't clearly set out previously.

Gotta get back to it, but thought I'd share.

Colleen

May I have an umbrella in that?

So much for waiting a month to begin editing. I managed to go about 48 hours before diving in. (Methinks my addiction is showing.)

The work had gone well. I made amazing strides tightening prose with a finely-tuned wrench, slashing overwriting with new-found skill.

And then came section seven -- the end bit to chapter one. What a *&#$%* dreadful piece of writing it is. I hate it. What was I thinking?

And so, I procrastinate catching up on my blog reading, paying bills, writing this entry because it's too early to drink. And that is what is required. A vat of alcohol to generate creative brain cells, to make me feel brilliant, perhaps to drown myself in.

Of course, the fact that I submitted my application for the grant yesterday has nothing to do with my bout of insecurity today. Nothing at all. The fact that I held on to the damn thing for weeks, repeatedly rewriting sample pages and submitting only when deadline was upon me is no indication of lack of confidence. Not at all.

Hmmmm. Seven minutes to noon.

Colleen