If you’ve seen the DVD of ‘Finding Nemo’, you’ll understand the title.
Agent Cox reports that the publishers have finally agreed on the last-wafer-thin-mint of a clause he wanted for the book contract. We should be signing next week.
Meanwhile, my editor and I are still whupping the ms into shape.
This is a wishlist. I occasionally search for blogs like this. Still looking.
1. Diary of a Molecular Biologist
I miss being one. I would love to live through some researcher’s life, vicariously. But it would have to be honest! I’d want all the details about the science, all the angst and the lab politics and drama, the whole bit. Realistically, no-one has the time to do this well, or honestly.
2. The Real Life Of A Literary Agent
Yeah, yeah, all you agents with your blogs. No-one gives away the really interesting stuff. That’s what I want to read.
3. Entrepreneur Blog
I am full of admiration for young entrepreneurs, especially the type who didn’t get their start from a Trust Fund. (I’ve got nothing against the Trust Fund Kids; hey, they are putting the cash to good use, but they aren’t quite taking the same risks as the zero-starters). These people are KEY to our economic future, well-being; they are the bees-knees.
Actually I have a couple of candidates here.
http://www.kulveer.co.uk/
http://bnoopy.typepad.com/
I’ll follow them for a bit and see which one is more fun to read.
4. A decent blog written from somewhere in Southern Mexico.
I’ve got my eye on a couple, but they are written by gringos and not updated all that often. Nothing against gringos, but they are living the ex-pat life, which does not interest me.
Hey, if anyone hears anything…
Okay, here’s a list of the blogs I regularly read:
1. Miss Snark
Yay Snarky! I worked out who she is, you know. No, really, I did. I’m not telling though. The Snark does her best work undercover.
2. Peter Cox
Well, he is my agent. 🙂
3. Richard Herring – Warming Up
The diary of a successful stand-up comedian/writer. Richard and I went to the same college, although we never spoke, so far as I know. He spent little time there. He told me, years ago, that he hated the college. I corresponded with him by email briefly during the nineties. He makes himself write something everyday; admirable pursuit.
4. MaryD
MaryD is the mother of my best friend-when-we-were-kids. I remember the cakes she used to make to this day. She did lovely vanilla Victoria sponges iced with orange and lemon buttercream. Then there was this unbelievable chocolate hazelnut cake filled with whipped cream, the first baking of which has a place of honour in my memories. I’m willing to forget a whole year of biochemistry to make the necessary space for the details in my crowded memory.
MaryD now lives in a village in Co. Galway and uses her brilliance as a journalist to paint a fascinating view of aspects of life in a rural Ireland.
Right, now for blogs I’d like to read.
The word on the street is that you shouldn’t keep a blog which is just about the everyday trivialities of life.
(I say the street; obviously I mean some saddo online community where I spend more time than the street, in fact although I regularly walk to and from nearby Summertown, I’ve yet to have a conversation with a passer-by about blogging, not yet anyway but it could happen.)
No – apparently to be blogworthy you need to post interesting snippets and comment on World Affairs and come over all polemical, like.
Frankly I prefer the ‘what-I-did-today’ type, but you have to either know the person, it must be well-written, or they must have a reaaallly interesting life, or be blogging about something in which you have a professional or hobbyist interest.
So, I’m going to try a bit harder. Not going for being another Guido Fawkes or anything. But I’ll try to post some stuff that isn’t about, yanno, me.
I am so excited about the Cuban dance band, Los Van Van concert this at the Hammersmith Palais this Friday!
Two years ago we went to see them in the Coronet. It was my first proper outing since breaking my leg. Our seats were up in the gods, and I was still on crutches. Something about the music and energy that night broke through to me on a whole different level. It was like a narcotic high – and I actually knew what one of those was by then, having spent two days on opiates whilst in hospital.
Except it was even better. The talent and energy couldn’t be confined to the stage. It rippled through the largely latino audience. It charged the atmosphere with complex rhythms that interweaved between heartbeats and brain waves.
This time, the tickets are standing room only.
That’s fine. Who needs a seat when you can dance?