So... point me to your fiction (she says sternly). And despite rumours to the contrary, I may be an elitist cow but I'm not a bitchy or rude one *whistle*. I write too and also try to improve as I go, but I'm not any where near as confident about my writing as my editing and translation (as that's what I do for a living). And striving for excellence is the only way to go in my book (although you do have the school that says 'oh I know it's crap but it's just for fun and I don't care about the nit-picking stuff, so why do I need a beta'). I confess that I hover between wanting to run such people out of fandom or be 'nice' and accept that this happens, ignore or hit 'delete' and move on. When they fish for gushing feedback, however, I start to bristle. When they *get* gushing feedback, I sit on my hands.
Can't believe you live in Saltburn. The last time I was there was soon after we were married (memory lane, etc.), so even that's around 20 years ago now. Our holidays in Redcar were in the 1960s (I'm about to hit 50, poor old thing), but I remember weird things like an Italian ice cream place, the fishing boats, fluorescent pink rock, South Gare and big tankers, poking around in rock pools, and red footpaths. Then there was some sort of park with little boats? Oh, and 'Auntie Joan' who had the boarding house and ended up as my mum's best mate as they got older. Her husband, George, drove a bus in Redcar. She made wonderful puddings but was incapable of making scrambled eggs.
Oh dear, how rambly can you get? But snaps would be lovely.
Mind how you go in fandom. It can be a very strange place (says she doing the 'old and wise and has had fingers burned' sort of thing). A great place, too, let me hasten to say or I wouldn't be around by now. Mind, I do wonder if the bad ever *will* outweigh the good - it gets to be a close thing sometines.
And... um... may I add you to my LJ friends list? Feel free to do the same. I make *very* few public posts as I tend to be somewhat blunt about various fannish things(and it's *my* LJ so I can - although at the same time I don't see the point in bitching and sniping in public).
Last thought. There was one tiny village near Redcar - VERY steep and winding cobbled roads down to the sea. A sort of cove, I think. Can't for the life of me think of the name, but I loved the place. And the tea shop halfway down (probably called the Copper Kettle *g*).
So... point me to your fiction (she says sternly). And despite rumours to the contrary, I may be an elitist cow but I'm not a bitchy or rude one *whistle*. I write too and also try to improve as I go, but I'm not any where near as confident about my writing as my editing and translation (as that's what I do for a living). And striving for excellence is the only way to go in my book (although you do have the school that says 'oh I know it's crap but it's just for fun and I don't care about the nit-picking stuff, so why do I need a beta'). I confess that I hover between wanting to run such people out of fandom or be 'nice' and accept that this happens, ignore or hit 'delete' and move on. When they fish for gushing feedback, however, I start to bristle. When they *get* gushing feedback, I sit on my hands.
Hm. Shut up, Brenda. Time to change subject.
Another really interesting book is Margaret Atwood's "Negotiating with the Dead" - also on writers and writing http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/0521662605/103-7316930-8541422?v=glance
Can't believe you live in Saltburn. The last time I was there was soon after we were married (memory lane, etc.), so even that's around 20 years ago now. Our holidays in Redcar were in the 1960s (I'm about to hit 50, poor old thing), but I remember weird things like an Italian ice cream place, the fishing boats, fluorescent pink rock, South Gare and big tankers, poking around in rock pools, and red footpaths. Then there was some sort of park with little boats? Oh, and 'Auntie Joan' who had the boarding house and ended up as my mum's best mate as they got older. Her husband, George, drove a bus in Redcar. She made wonderful puddings but was incapable of making scrambled eggs.
Oh dear, how rambly can you get? But snaps would be lovely.
Mind how you go in fandom. It can be a very strange place (says she doing the 'old and wise and has had fingers burned' sort of thing). A great place, too, let me hasten to say or I wouldn't be around by now. Mind, I do wonder if the bad ever *will* outweigh the good - it gets to be a close thing sometines.
And... um... may I add you to my LJ friends list? Feel free to do the same. I make *very* few public posts as I tend to be somewhat blunt about various fannish things(and it's *my* LJ so I can - although at the same time I don't see the point in bitching and sniping in public).
Last thought. There was one tiny village near Redcar - VERY steep and winding cobbled roads down to the sea. A sort of cove, I think. Can't for the life of me think of the name, but I loved the place. And the tea shop halfway down (probably called the Copper Kettle *g*).
Gone. And why yes, I *am* long-winded.
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