It's definitely been a while.
I always find it hard to believe anyone tunes in weekly to this blog, but just incase anyone's been repeatedly refreshing the screen for the past two and a half weeks, here's a little post to keep my oar in.
Lack of blogging (as you'll know if you're on my facebook) is because I have NO INTERNET at my new flat and 3G on the old mobile (where I'm posting this from as a last ditch, fingers crossed, stand near the window attempt) is pooooooor. Hope this will actually go up. I'm counting down the days for the next fortnight when, all being well, I should be back online and all this will be a dim and distant memory. I think I need an internet-producing drip, frankly.
Moving and new-jobbing went well (surprisingly well, thanks to the huge amount of help we had from my parents and the enormous usefullness of Mr Dishington; while I was at work he did almost everything, and I couldn't be more grateful.)
The good thing about my lack of internet is that you haven't been subject (unless a close friend or family) to my RANTING about the absolute uselessness of Tesco, who I still mostly hate with a passion, despite their having been redeemed by the enormous helpfulness of one employee. Count yourself lucky, it wasn't pretty. And no, you really don't want to know.
Since I last blogged, in writing news, which is more interesting than my vendettas against supermarkets, I've started it. I originally described this re-working of my NaNoWriMo (now simply titled Penguins) as a Steampunk romance, but I reclassify it now as a "gaslight romance", which seems more apt. And yes I did look those terms up on wikipedia, woah yes. Not that classification is important at this point, but it's always nice to know where you are.
I always worry about my romances, and my writing in general, that it's that sort of industry-polluting tripe with poorly designed covers that gives whatever genre it claims to represent a bad name. I saw one such "steampunk romance" on a blog, and perhaps that's part of my re-genre-ing. And use of the word re-genre-ing is, I'm sure you'll agree, just the sort of classic writing that sets my work apart. Indeed.
Only about 2000 words in but I'm feeling positive. There's a ball, a giant clock, a murder (of crows) and a pretend Yorkshireman. So there. Bet I hate the whole thing within a week.
And on that note, until next time I can find some internet, adieu!
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