2013 365 Day #7 – Let the Research Commence

The Royal Border Bridge, Berwick on Tweed. © Copyright Nigel Chadwick and licensed for reuse under Creative Commons

The Royal Border Bridge, Berwick on Tweed. ©Copyright Nigel Chadwick, licensed for reuse under Creative Commons

My novel has reached 5,500 words, including today’s installment. That’s slightly behind NaNoWriMo rate, but I am having to do editing as I go, to make my blog posts a bit more presentable.

I’ve started needing to research stuff online. My husband is worried about me writing a novel based on 200 hostels I have never been to. It doesn’t faze me. With Tripadvisor, the YHA site, Google Maps and other general internet sources, you never need to leave your sofa.

My only worry is that I might offend someone, breach some copyright or generally get into trouble. The internet is a scary place to be chucking out a first draft novel!

Anyway, here goes the next installment:

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Claire woke suddenly, her heart racing and her ears ringing with the echo of a scream. The bed felt unfamiliar and for a moment she thought she must be at Michael’s house. So who is screaming? Her eyes sought the familiar green numerals of his bedside clock but they weren’t there. Neither was there the orange glow of a street-light flooding through the window to tell her she was in her own apartment.

Where the hell am I?

As her heart thudded loudly in the now-silent room she wondered if she was still in the depths of a bad dream. Then the scream came again, turning her body to ice. Claire sat upright and threw herself out of bed. That was Sky. She began hurrying from the room before she remembered that the door in Ruth’s bedroom was in a different place. Claire yelped as she crashed into the chest of drawers, then winced as something sticky and heavy fell off and landed on her foot. Her swearing echoed loudly in the dark. Taking a breath to calm herself Claire walked forward with her arms stretched out in front of her like a ghost and tried to locate the light switch.

By the time Claire reached Sky’s room the girl had fallen back asleep. If she was even awake in the first place. In the back of her mind Claire seemed to remember Ruth talking about something called Night Terrors and how children could get hysterical without even waking up. Or was that just when they were babies? Claire wished she had paid more attention to her sister’s ramblings.

She sat on the edge of Sky’s bed and smoothed the damp hair off her niece’s brow. The girl looked younger asleep, even with the remnants of lipstick that still stained her tiny mouth. I hope that comes off before Ruth gets back tomorrow.

The afternoon with Sky had been surprisingly enjoyable. Now that Sky was able to hold an almost-sensible conversation it wasn’t so terrifying to spend time with her. Exhausting, though. Do children ever draw breath? It seemed that Sky could talk non-stop for several hours without tiring. Her chatter had been entertaining but Claire’s head still reverberated with the relentless high-pitched babble.

Claire braced herself against the bed, ready to get up and leave the room. Sensing the movement, Sky turned and curled herself around Claire’s back, snuggling against her and giving a contented sigh. Claire was aware of an unusual feeling of contentment. Odd. She sat within the embrace for ten or fifteen minutes, until she was sure Sky was fully asleep. Then she gently removed her niece’s arms and rolled her away, covering her with the duvet so she wouldn’t get cold. She leant over the bed and kissed Sky on the forehead.

“Sleep well, poppet. Sweet dreams.”

Back in Ruth’s room, Claire’s heart sank when she saw the time. 2a.m.? She felt wide awake, even though she had only slept for a few hours. I guess I may as well do something useful. Pulling out her laptop, Claire started making notes on her assignment. Best take it seriously. I can’t give them any excuse to fire me for incompetence, not if they’re already trying to get me to quit.

She wrote a list of things that needed doing:

Choose Blog Name
Start Facebook Fan Page
Choose Twitter name
Buy road map and plot hostels on it

Thinking about it, I don’t even know where Berwick-Upon-Tweed is. She opened the internet and spent twenty minutes wandering around the YHA website, mentally noting twenty ways they could improve their customer journey. She added Join the YHA to her to-do list before clicking on the hostel that would see the start of her journey. It seemed that Berwick was in Northumberland. Not a part of the country Claire had been to before. Her heart sank. Something about the name Northumberland made her feel cold and grey.

Reading on, she found out the Berwick YHA was in an eighteenth-century Granary and included its own art gallery. Thirteen rooms, all en-suite? That didn’t sound like the hostelling experience she’d imagined, with rows and rows of grimy rooms and one bathroom between twenty.

Even if I have to share with three or four other people, Claire thought, supressing a shudder, at least I don’t have to leave the room to pee.

***

A Baptism and the 2013 365 Challenge #6

The character matrix I use to keep track of my creations

Today I am at a Baptism in Bologna, Italy, with all my husband’s family, so this post was scheduled on Friday when I was meant to be packing (thank you husband!). As you’re reading this I am mostly wishing I had worked harder at learning Italian (I’m the only family member apart from the kids who doesn’t speak Italian. I can just about manage hello, how are you in Italian, despite many purchases of teach-yourself-Italian CDs).

My picture today is of my character matrix. (I borrowed the template from a blog but my WordPress reader is playing up so I’m afraid I can’t say who just now.) Usually I fill one of these out about halfway through a first draft, once I have a good idea of all my main characters and some interesting facts about them.

Because I need to ensure consistency in my blog posts for this 365 Challenge, I decided to figure some of it out upfront (like names, ages, physical appearance). I find it hard to imagine details about characters until I have written in their voice for a while. Characters don’t come to me fully formed. It’s more like meeting people in real life: when you first come across them you have a bunch of preconceived ideas about who they are based on past experience or stereotypes. As you spend time with them those ideas are either proved or disproved. That’s part of the fun of writing for me – finding out who my characters are. They always shock me.

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“Auntie Claire! Mummy said you were coming to stay but I didn’t believe it.” A whirl of blonde hair and beads threw itself at Claire’s legs and hugged tight, almost tilting her to the ground. Claire resisted the urge to shake her off like an unwanted dog and waited for the shrieking to stop.

“Hello Claire,” Ruth greeted her sister as she came to the door. The two women air-kissed, leaning over the child still wrapped around Claire’s legs. “Is that a new perfume, it’s very exotic.” Ruth sniffed the air and Claire could tell she really wanted to say it was awful, but as Claire was there to do a huge favour she had no choice but to be nice.

“Yes, Michael bought it for me,” Claire said tightly, before gently removing Sky from her legs so she could walk down the corridor to the kitchen-diner.

“How is Michael?” Ruth asked over her shoulder. Claire wondered if her sister had been so caught up in her own misery she had missed the status updates on Facebook. Or is it that she just can’t keep the maliciousness at bay for five minutes?

“We broke up.”

“Oh, did you? I’m sorry to hear that. He was very charming. Not that we saw much of him.”

Oh, here we go.

As if sensing her sister’s reaction, Ruth didn’t continue. Instead she pulled Sky away from where she hung off Claire’s arm and smiled brightly at her sister. “Tea?”

“Earl Grey please, if you have it?”

“No, only Tetley I’m afraid. Or I have Nescafe?”

Claire shuddered then shook her head. “A glass of water would be lovely, thank you.”

Ruth ran water from the kitchen tap into a plastic Disney Princesses beaker and handed it to Claire, who had sat down at the table. Ruth then poured herself more treacle-coloured tea from a spotty-red teapot and sat opposite her.

“Mum will be here shortly. I’m not supposed to drive, so Mum’s taking me. They’ll do the tests, keep me in overnight for observations, then Mum will come and get me in the morning. I’ll be back by lunchtime tomorrow.”

“Where are you going exactly? Peterborough General?”

“No, I’m still covered by Mum and Dad’s health insurance so I’m going private. It was going to be weeks before they could get me an appointment with the NHS.”

Silence filled the kitchen, broken only by the sound of Sky munching grapes. Claire cupped her hands around the bright pink cup and stared at the reflections in her untouched water. It was always like this with Ruth. Unless she was ranting about the latest injustice or gushing over some bloke she’d snogged they didn’t have much to say to each other.

“How’s work?”

Claire looked up, surprised at the question. “Fine. I have a new assignment.”

“Oh, something interesting?”

“Yes, it could be. I guess. It’s for Coca Cola.”

The spark of interest in Ruth’s eyes died. “Disgusting teeth-rotting stuff. I can’t believe you endorse evil brands like that.”

There didn’t seem any way to respond to the comment without starting a row. Sky was now slurping milk through a straw but she looked up and surveyed the two sisters. Catching her gaze, Claire was surprised at how much comprehension there was in her niece’s eyes. She realised she hadn’t seen her niece in over a year. Claire hadn’t joined her family for Christmas, which meant it was the Christmas before that she last saw Sky.

“Miss Hawkins says Coca Cola was invented by a chemist.”

Claire didn’t know what to say to the non sequitur. It no longer seemed possible to brush the girl off with That’s nice and a smile.

“What else have you learned at school?” She said instead.

“If two pieces of metal touch each other in space they get stuck together.”

Claire stared at Sky, bereft of words. Where did that come from? I remember learning completely useless facts in school, but that seems a bit technical for a six-year-old. She was still scrabbling for a response when the front door opened and she heard the familiar swish of her mother’s floor-length wool coat sweep the laminate flooring.

“You’re here then,” her mother said as she came into the kitchen. Claire turned to look at her, trying to read behind the words.

“Yes, the traffic was surprisingly light, I made good time.”

“Right. Well, we’d best be off Ruth. Have you told Claire where everything is, when Sky has her tea and when to put her to bed?”

“Won’t you stop for a cup of tea?” Ruth looked up at her mother, who was still wearing her winter coat. “We’re not due at the hospital for over an hour. Claire’s only just arrived.”

“We don’t want to be late.”

Ruth looked apologetically at her sister, as if their mother’s rudeness was somehow her fault. She handed her sister a handwritten sheet of paper. “I’ve written it all down, but if you have any problems you can ring Dad.”

“Much good that will do you. Your Father’s working this week, otherwise he would have taken Sky.”

“I thought Dad retired.” Claire smiled at her mother, to show that she was making a light-hearted comment. Her Dad had retired the year before, but he was finding it hard to let go. He had taken on various non-exec roles that seemed to take up more of his time than his full-time job as Chief Financial Officer.

“Your father works harder than all of you,” was all her Mum said, before turning to face the corridor. “Come on Ruth.”

Sky got down from the table and ran to give her Grandmother a cuddle. “Bye bye Nana, see you tomorrow. Auntie Claire and I are going to have so much fun.”

“Bye bye poppet. You be good for your Auntie Claire.”

Claire remained seated at the table as her sister bent to kiss her cheek, gave her daughter a huge hug, and scurried off down the corridor after their mother. Sky came over and leant against Claire, putting her arms around her neck. As the front door clicked shut Sky’s face widened into a broad grin.

“I’m so glad you’re here Auntie. I want you to show me how to paint my nails and my lips and all the things Mummy doesn’t let me do.” Her clear blue eyes sparkled in a way that promised trouble.

Claire was conscious of a strong desire to run down the corridor after her mother and sister, to tell them she would drive Ruth to the hospital. Instead she looked down into the face gazing mischievously up at her and forced out a smile.

“Okay, Sky. Let’s have some fun.”

***

‘The Motherhood’ feat: Day #5 of the 2013 365 Challenge.

You can find the full Motherhood feat video here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eNVde5HPhYo Worth a watch!

You can find the full Motherhood feat video here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eNVde5HPhYo Definitely worth a watch!

I love this installment because I managed to include my latest favourite viral advert in the story.

Created by Fiat, ‘The Motherhood’ feat is for all those Mums who juggle small children and work. Or for any Mums really. Or anyone who fancies a giggle or enjoys clever word-usage.

By the way, I should probably add that my story is entirely fictional. I don’t work for Vodafone, Birds Eye, Coca Cola, Starbucks or the Youth Hostel Association, nor do I know much about them except that they are strong brands.

Any lawyers reading that think I might get into trouble for bandying these names around please give me a heads up and I’ll start inventing some fictional brands!

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“So, you’re being pushed out then? I wouldn’t stand for that if I was you.” Steve grinned at Claire as the two of them sat in Starbucks with a stack of paperwork on the table in front of them.

“I am not being pushed out, thank you very much. The Board want me to prove my loyalty, that’s all. I’m on the up.”

“Bollocks. Whoever heard of a Company sending its top Account Director out of the office for a full year? You’ve got windmills in your head if you believe that rubbish. They’re hoping you’ll get sick of it and quit so they don’t have to pay you severance pay, you mark my words.”

Claire glared at Steve as he voiced the concern that had been buzzing round her mind for a week. Once she had had time to think it through it seemed ludicrous that a company would continue to pay her a generous salary while she dossed around the country writing a few Tweets and posting some snaps on Facebook. It was clear that Steve was right. She had been at AJC for three years and her severance pay would be at least a year’s salary. Much better to have her sweat it out in grubby hostels for a few weeks so that she would be grateful to hand in her notice.

There’s no alternative, I will just have to stick it out. If I resign now, not only will I have to work my three months’ notice, I’ll have to put up with the likes of Carl and Steve smirking at me every single day knowing I couldn’t hack it.

Happy to have made his point regarding her secondment, Steve moved onto a fresh topic of torment. “So come on, spill the beans, what happened to Lover Boy? One minute you’re practically renting a lunch time slot at Yo! Sushi together, next thing you’re back to chomping an M&S salad in your office. Dumped you, did he?”

“It’s none of your business Steve.” Claire looked up from her laptop and stared into Steve’s muddy brown eyes, holding his gaze until he looked away.

“Perhaps we could concentrate on the accounts? You know, work? The Vodafone ad is being filmed tomorrow and we’re still trying to pin them down to tell us what airtime their Board is going to let them have.” She took a sip of her latte before replacing the cup on the table. “Apparently the new cheese is all about SEO and viral media rather than more traditional channels.”

Steve sat back, his face more serious although his eyes still danced with mischief. “Get Jimmy on to it, he’ll create something for them. Like that great Fiat Motherhood video. The missus was in hysterics, sent it to all her friends.”

Claire had seen the video but failed to see the humour. Three months in Pyjamas and comparing episiotomy scars? What was funny about that? It just confirmed her view that having kids was a foolish idea. Whatever Michael had thought about the subject.

***

Day #4 of the 2013 365 Challenge…

My refreshed website – still needs work but I was up til 1am getting it this far!

Okay so I am finding this challenge more challenging than I expected. I did my initial calculations on wordcount and figured I could easily write a thousand words a day and post them. I didn’t take into account needing to ensure each scene makes sense by itself, or the time required to tidy up spelling and punctuation. Nevermind how long it takes me to choose an image, upload it, add tags and categories and format the blog post!

This is only my second day without the children and my time seems to have been eaten up by buying birthday gifts for my little one’s 4th birthday (which is actually not until the end of January!), finding a Baptism card (it’s all Christening cards here, I found one in the fifth shop I tried) and updating my website so it ties in with my new business cards for the Art in the Heart Gallery (read about it here).

What’s keeping me going (apart from stubbornness, an unwillingness to humiliate myself in front of an audience and a desire to learn more about Claire) is a blog post I read from the lovely Kristen Lamb about taking yourself seriously as a writer. The blog was fabulously called Lies that Can Poison Your Dreams–Don’t Eat the Butt in 2013 It included a great quotation from Stephen King:

Amateurs sit and wait for inspiration, the rest of us get up and go to work. ~Stephen King

If I want to be a Writer and sell my novels I need to get on and write. So here is Day 4’s installment of my postaday novel. I’ll be scheduling Days 5, 6 and 7 today too (hopefully, although I have to go get the kids in under three hours) due to family commitments in Italy. I’ll be back in person next week!

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“Claire, it’s Ruth.” Claire held back a sigh and walked into the kitchen to put the coffee machine on. A phone call from her sister was never over quickly.

“Ruth, darling. How are you?” As she waited for her sister to start spilling forth her latest disaster, Claire mulled over how much to reveal about her new assignment. Her family would have to be told something, of course. Not that they ever came to visit, or called her home phone, or sent her letters. Still, it seemed only right to tell them she was moving out for twelve months. Tuning back in to the phonecall, Claire realised she had missed some key information and tried to catch up with what her sister was talking about.

“So the doctor said it was probably lack of sleep. You know Sky is a bad sleeper and her nightmares have been worse since she started Year Two.”

Claire worked out that someone was poorly, but was unsure whether it was her sister or her niece. Probably Sky. Silly, spoiled, overly-dramatic child. As if having her father run off with her ballet teacher gives her an open-ended excuse to be a brat forever. Surely they outgrow that nonsense once they start school?

Claire thought about her own schooling. Her parents had paid for the best, obviously, although Claire often wondered whether that was to ensure their three children didn’t hamper their lifestyle, rather than to give their off-spring a good start in life. The school had encouraged independence and character but had no time for tears and tantrums. Claire had learned quickly to work hard and stay out of trouble. More than could be said for Ruth. It had been a constant mortification to her parents that, while their first and third children both achieved academic success, Ruth only acquired notoriety.

Ruth’s next sentence cut through Claire’s reminiscing like a knife through brie.

“The tests are week after next. That’s why I’m calling. Is there any chance you could come and look after Sky? It’s half-term and most of her friends are going skiing. Of course we can’t afford that…”

Claire inhaled deeply and forced herself not to rise to the bait. Ruth was always poor and begrudged Claire her success. Claire accepted that looking after a child on your own probably hampered your career options, but look at J.K. Rowling, it hadn’t held her back. She was convinced Ruth could help herself if only she’d try harder. Claire’s irritation at the badly-veiled hint nearly overshadowed the first part of the sentence, but not quite.

“Have Sky? How long for? When?” Claire could hear panic in her voice and forced herself to breathe in through her nose. Once she was sure she was back in control of her emotions she said in a slow voice, “I start a new work assignment on 1st March, and I’ll … be on the road a lot. You know. Meeting clients.”

“Wining and dining on someone else’s credit card.” Ruth’s voice cut in.

“There’s more to it than that,” Claire responded quickly. Then, before Ruth could start the age-old argument, Claire inhaled through her nose again and consciously lowered her voice. “Tell me the day you need me to have Sky, I’ll check my diary.”

“Well, it’s two days, actually.” Ruth sounded embarrassed.

As well she might. I don’t want to look after her brat for two hours, never mind two days.

Claire had, thus far, avoided spending too much time with her niece, or with her two nephews Jack and Alex. Her brother and his wife lived in Geneva, so that was understandable. Ruth lived near their mother in Cambridgeshire, so her lack of involvement caused considerable friction. Kids just aren’t my thing.

Thinking about minding a six-year-old for two days made bile rise in Claire’s throat. She gulped down her coffee and wondered if she could use the new assignment as an excuse. There was something in Ruth’s voice, though, that made her pause.

“Can’t mum take her? I thought Mum and Dad were the perfect grandparents?” It seemed odd to Claire that two people who had no time for their own children could go dotty over someone else’s, even if they were their grandkids. Maybe they were going soft in their old age.

“Er, Mum’s coming with me, to the hospital.”

Ruth’s words slithered into Claire’s brain, freezing where they made contact. “Just what tests are you having exactly?”

“Weren’t you listening? I said you never listen to me, you and Robert, you’re both the same.”

Claire almost smiled at the petulant tone in Ruth’s voice. For a moment they were twelve and fourteen again.

“Sorry,” she admitted, saying nothing more.

“The headaches, the ones causing spots in my vision. The doctor thinks it’s tiredness but they want to be sure. I’m having a CAT scan or an MRI or something, I don’t remember the details. I’m not clever like you. That’s why Mum’s coming.”

Claire took the two steps from her kitchen to her lounge and sank into the white leather sofa. “CAT scan? Ruth, are you serious?”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t joke about something like that. So, will you take Sky? I don’t think Dad could cope with her for two days on his own. You can stay at my place or at Home, whichever is easier.”

Claire rubbed a hand across her forehead, as if scrubbing away unwanted thoughts. “Of course I’ll come. Text me the dates. I should probably come home before I start my new assignment anyway, store some things in the attic…”

She thought Ruth might ask her about the assignment, but she didn’t. After another ten minutes elaborating on her headaches and trips to the doctors she said that Sky was calling for her and hung up the phone.

Claire slumped back into the sofa, cradling her iphone in her lap. Darkness seemed to engulf the room. A gloom that had nothing to do with the rain hammering against the window pane.

***

The Sort of Hope Who Has Time (allsortsofhope.com)
One word for 2013 (ishouldbewashingclothes.wordpress.com)
365 Challenge (tarawoodruff.wordpress.com)
New Year Challenges!? 365 Challenges and Goals (teejrants.wordpress.com)

2013 365 Challenge #3 and a Confession

The last time we went to Bologna (in 2007) it was our first wedding anniversary and we ended up visiting the Ferrari Museum. I am truly the best of wives...

The last time we went to Bologna (For a wedding in 2007) it was also our first wedding anniversary. We ended up visiting the Ferrari Museum. I am truly the best of wives…

Day three, still writing! Actually I have to fess-up that the weekend posts will mostly be written and scheduled tomorrow because we are heading to Italy on Saturday for a Baptism. The kids are so excited to be going on an aeroplane they haven’t stopped talking about it.

My husband and I are just wondering if we’re mad: we’re flying to Venice airport, driving the 40mins into Venice for lunch (I’ve never been!) before driving 2.5 hours to Bologna to check into our hotel. Thankfully the Baptism is on Sunday and we fly home on Monday so it should be a little calmer after that. I’ll be back to real-time writing next week. Please forgive my little cheat and rest assured I’ll still be writing while I’m away, just not posting.

Here is the third installment of my 2013 365 Challenge.

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Claire’s heart thumped beneath her gold heart pendant as she saw the email in her inbox. Carl had been quiet about her new assignment for a day or two and things had gone on as normal. Well, as normal as it got in AJC. Steve had filled her diary with meetings to discuss the accounts he was due to take over but, as he was away on a three-day conference, the meetings weren’t until the following week. Hoping the conversation in Carl’s office would go away like an unwelcome case of acne, Claire had continued with preparation for the Vodafone shoot and the Birds Eye’s Press Ads.

Claire looked at the email subject line and felt her hand quiver as it hovered over the track-pad on her laptop. Just click Open and find out the worst. Her hand shook for a moment more before she dragged the cursor over the email link and clicked.

The email was terse, as Carl’s often were.

Details of your assignment. Julia will sort the details. You start 1st March.

Good luck.

Carl.

She could imagine Carl sitting laughing at his desk as he wrote the words. Good Luck indeed. Bastard. She opened the attachment and was surprised to see it was only a single page with Coca Cola and YHA logos at the top. Scanning through the words quickly she saw that the brief had been prepared by Carl’s boss, the top man himself.

So Carl wasn’t talking complete crap when he said this came from the Board. Great.

It didn’t make Claire feel any better to know that her sudden move had been decreed by the powers-that-be. In some ways if it had been Carl’s vindictive move she could have handled that better, found some way to get her own back or turn it to her advantage. Knowing that she had come to the attention of the Board made her skin prickle.

Unable to avoid it any longer, Claire turned her attention to the actual brief.

Assignment: To travel to each of the Youth Hostelling Association’s 200 hostels, located throughout England and Wales.

Your assignment includes maintaining a blog to discuss reviews of the hostels, utilising social media platforms such as Facebook and Twitter to inform Fans of amusing stories and anecdotes, and generally promoting the brands of Coca Cola and YHA.

You will relinquish your company car and be given one more suited to your assignment. We will arrange for your apartment to be let and cover reasonable expenses, although you will be expected to stick within a backpacker’s budget (c. £20-£30 a day). You will continue to receive your normal salary and holiday entitlement.

Your accommodation for your first two nights’ stay has been booked in the Northernmost Hostel at Berwick-Upon-Tweed for 1st and 2nd March. From that point on you will be expected to plan your own route and manage your own bookings.

Your secondment is for one year, including your allotted holiday allowance. This means you will need to manage the length of your stay at each hostel, and your driving route from hostel to hostel, to ensure that you have visited each of the 200 hostels in that time.

Claire’s mind reeled as she read and re-read the brief. A car more suited to my assignment? She thought lovingly of the charcoal grey Audi parked in the street below. Take my Audi away? And her apartment. Okay, it wasn’t really hers. Mortgages were for people with kids and dogs. Hers was rented, furnished and serviced. Her sleek steel kitchen was kept clean by a firm who came once a week. Still, it was uncomfortable to think of someone else living there.

There was a hard knot in the centre of Claire’s brain and she knew the worries about her car and flat were skirting around the real issue. £20-£30 a day? That wasn’t going to buy more than an M&S sandwich, a couple of Starbucks and a takeaway noodles for dinner. Was she meant to pay for her hostel room and petrol out of that too? I’m not paying for it out of my salary, that’s for sure. If they’re going to make me do this I at least want to come out of it with something.

Claire’s mind drifted to pictures of a fortnight’s holiday in the Maldives when the ordeal was over. She’d never had enough money left before, after maintaining her shoe-and-handbag habit, but a year living on expenses would leave her nicely in the black. Claire sat back in her chair and smiled suddenly. The brief didn’t say when she could take her holiday. There was nothing stopping her dossing around the country for a few weeks and then jetting off for white sandy beaches and bath-water-warm seas.

Maybe things were looking up after all.

***

4 Thing Thursday: 365 Days In 2013 (streetmeetsstyle.wordpress.com)

2013 365 Challenge #2

The printworks, Manchester, taken from Wheel of Manchester by John Mcguire

This is the second installment of my 2013 challenge to write a section of my new novel every day (see earlier post).

Thank you for your support and comments so far and I’m glad you like Claire! I hope I manage to do her justice. I didn’t get much sleep last night (husband’s snoring and restless kids) so today’s will be a short post. I hope to get to grips with the story a bit more today and tomorrow as the children are in nursery (hurrah!).

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Back at her desk, Claire resisted the urge to put her head in her hands. Living in a glass office surrounded by advertising people had taught her self-control in a way her parents’ strictures on The Correct Way to Behave in Public never had. She had risen through the ranks quickly since arriving at AJC and that generally made people want to find out a person’s weaknesses.

Claire looked out through her glass wall at the Account Managers and Execs working hard at their desks. She could see Julia in close conversation with one of the other PAs. The sight made Claire’s stomach twist and she looked away. There was no doubt Julia had a fair idea what had been said in Carl’s office. PAs knew everything.

Besides, I saw the surreptitious look of glee she threw my way when she brought in the drinks. No doubt it’s all round the Company that I’m being demoted or forced out.

It was that, and only that, preventing Claire from typing her resignation letter and storming back over to Carl’s office. I could get another position by 5pm, she thought as she stared impassively at her computer screen, tapping in random letters while her mind churned at eighty-words-per-minute. But what reputation would follow me? I’d forever be the person who quit on the Coco Cola account. What would the gossips say? That I couldn’t hack a bit of dirt and hard work?

Advertising and Marketing was a closed group. Every day Claire ran into someone from a previous life – a boss, an underling-come-good, a client or supplier. She’d seen former lowly execs become Account Directors or move client-side and become Marketing Directors. You couldn’t be rude to anyone, no matter how much you ached to.

Claire gazed out the window at the city view, or what she could see of it. Manchester in February was a miserable place. It rained. When it stopped raining all you could see were more rainclouds building up on the Pennines. Not that she spent much time outside. The rain was a great excuse to drive the five minutes to work or to the shops from her city-centre apartment. When she wasn’t at the office or with clients she was tucked up warm in the latest wine bar or boutique.

No, the rain wasn’t a problem. Her thoughts dragged her unwillingly back over the last few months, filling her mind with unwelcome images. Flashes of Christmas and New Year filled her head like a TV review programme. Forced to give them attention for the first time, Claire realised they didn’t make happy viewing. She pushed the images away and looked back out at the rain.

Maybe it would be good to get out of Manchester for a while.

***

Let’s Try A 365 Project? (abeautifulmess.com)
Tomorrow, is the first blank page of a 365 page book. Write a good one. (milkshakesinspring.wordpress.com)

2013 365 Challenge #1

New Year’s Eve 2006 in New Zealand (on my honeymoon)

This is the first installment of my 2013 challenge to write a section of my new novel every day (see previous post).

Next installment tomorrow.

Happy New Year to everyone.

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Chapter One

“Claire, could you come into my office for a quick chat?”

Claire looked up from the stack of artwork on her desk and resisted the urge to frown, knowing it would leave creases in her foundation.

“Sure Carl, now?”

“Yes please,” he said over his shoulder as he headed back to his own, larger, glass cube on the other side of the office.

Intrigued that he hadn’t sent Julia or phoned through his summons, Claire slipped on her heels, pulled on her jacket and headed after her boss.

“Come in, sit down, would you like a drink?”

Carl was already seated when Claire scratched on his door and opened it.

“Earl Grey please, black, no sugar,” Claire said as she lowered herself onto the black leather chair, glad she was wearing tights.

Carl pressed a button on his desk. “Earl Grey and an espresso please Jules.”

Carl shuffled the paper on his desk and didn’t look up. “How’s the Birds Eye piece coming together?”

Claire looked at the bald patch starting to appear on Carl’s crown and answered in a monotone. “Fine. No dramas.”

“And the Vodafone ad?”

“Shooting next week.”

“Right.” Carl took an audible breath.

Just spit it out, Claire thought as she watched the words fighting to be released from his mouth.

“The Board would like you to hand over your existing clients to Steve.”

Claire sat forward. She hadn’t been expecting that. Aware of her movement she immediately sat back and looked sardonically at Carl.

“Am I being fired?”

“No,” he said quickly, “of course not. You’re one of our best Account Directors. No, think of it more as a change of direction. We’ve secured a new deal with Coca Cola.”

Claire raised her eyebrows before dropping them quickly. Coke? That was a big deal.

“They’re sponsoring the YHA.”

“The what?”

“Youth Hostel Association.”

Claire looked blankly for a minute, not making the connection. Then her brain kicked in. “That doesn’t seem a likely combination – isn’t youth hostelling all about being healthy and the great outdoors. Not something you associate with Coca Cola.”

“That’s the point. After the Olympics they want to improve their healthy image. They’ve decided a year’s sponsorship of the YHA will improve the perception of their brand in the UK.”

“So I’m getting that account? It doesn’t mean I have to hand over all my other deals, surely? Even someone as big as Coke must understand they’re not our only client.”

“Of course not. Actually you won’t be managing the account, I will.”

Claire felt her heartbeat begin to speed up. Something wasn’t right. Carl was looking shifty and he never looked shifty. It was as if he was bracing himself.

“So, come on then, what am I going to be doing?”

“Um. You’re going to be staying in the hostels.”

“What?” Claire nearly stood up but remembered at the last minute to relax back into her chair. Stay in control, Claire, don’t let him get to you.

“The bigwigs want someone on the ground, living the hostelling dream. They want someone to visit all the hostels during the year of promotion, to feedback stories on Twitter and Facebook, you know how it goes.”

“Why can’t you send one of the interns?” Claire could hear her voice sounded higher than usual. She swallowed and took some deep breaths.

“Polly and Molly have finals this year and Sally has a cat.”

Claire looked incredulously at Carl, then over his head through the glass wall of the office.

“What about Julia, she looks like she could use a holiday.”

“This is not a holiday and my PA is indispensable.”

“And I’m not?”

Their eyes clashed and fought before Carl smiled and leaned forward across his desk. “Come on Claire, be reasonable. Think of it as an adventure.”

“You want me to go and sleep in bug-infested bunk-beds in the same room as a bunch of smelly, over-sexed, students for a whole year? You must be mad.” She looked around the office as if seeking something to help her escape. The office was bare except for some piece of modern art and a photograph of Carl’s inexplicably beautiful wife.

“No Claire,” Carl said in a quiet voice. Claire turned to face him, her pulse beating loudly in her ears. Like any predator, Carl was at his most dangerous when he was silent. Forcing herself to meet his eyes she saw the glint in them and swallowed. Carl didn’t frighten her; she’d been around too long and knew she was good at her job. Even so she felt her palms getting clammy as Carl stared at her, one eyebrow slightly raised.

“Who did I offend?” Claire could hear the resignation in her voice. Resignation, was that her only option?

“No one my dear. Think of it more as an initiation challenge.”

It was Claire’s turn to raise an eyebrow. This was unexpected.

“The Board feel you have potential but they’re not convinced of your loyalty, to them or to our clients. Think of this as a sabbatical to consider your next career move.”

“Up or out?” Claire suggested, her lips twisting sarcastically.

“Well I wouldn’t put it quite so crudely but yes, as usual, you have encapsulated the essence in a pithy one-liner. That’s why you’re such a valuable member of the team.”

Right, thought Claire as she stalked back to her office. What a load of crap.

***

A New Challenge

My new project will be based on a travel-journal

An email landed in my inbox from WordPress last week, looking at the best daily and weekly blogs of 2012.

It got me thinking whether I could do something like that. I have struggled to even write a blog post every week since I started my WriterMummy blog back in March 2012. Maybe I need a challenge to keep me motivated next year. Something like NaNoWriMo, to force me to write and post daily.

Except I don’t blog unless I have something to say and some weeks nothing much happens, particularly when I’m writing a new novel. Then I thought, why not use a first draft of a novel for my blog?

I originally came up with the idea of 365-365 – writing a book in instalments with each daily entry being 365 words long. That would challenge my daily writing and my need to be more concise. But I suspect the second 365 might be more than I can manage so I’m going to stick with trying to post something every day, starting with a new project.

The story needs to lend itself to short episodes so I came up with the concept of travelling. Ten or twelve years ago I travelled around New Zealand and kept a diary. Recently I helped my sister self-publish her travel journals from America to New Zealand.

I don’t want to do New Zealand though, as that feels a bit close to home (and a bit like cheating, as I’d probably reuse chunks of my diary.) So then I thought what about someone travelling around the UK staying in hostels? The next thought was Why? And how would I integrate a story arc (or even a character arc)?

I came up with the idea of a main character who is a bit smug with her own life. Maybe she has a sister who is a single mother or a brother facing divorce and she’s happy with her middle-class existence, with her designer shoes and handbags and pristine flat. How would she cope staying in youth hostels? Then I had to figure why she would choose to visit youth hostels, which made me decide it would be part of her job. Maybe she’s an advertising executive and her client has asked her to visit the hostels to improve the advertising campaign. Maybe she will write some of her posts on Facebook and Twitter. I’m sure I’ll figure some more out before I write my first post tomorrow!

As you can see, I hope my posts will cover how my writing ideas develop (I’m a pantser mostly, so plot as I go) and how I go about research. As I haven’t visited many hostels in the UK I think the YHA site and Google Maps will be my friends.

Fingers crossed I’ll manage to keep up with my challenge, but if not at least I’ve given it a go! See you in 2013 for episode one.

Happy New Year!