bookmark_borderThe Book

typewriter-chapter-one1

I am writing a book.

I enjoy writing fiction, some of you may have read the bits and bobs I’ve posted here in the past, but I’ve no real idea if it’s rubbish or not. I’ve read some of it and it seems ok to me, although every time I re-read them I can’t help but think of ways to tighten up the language and make things flow better.

It’s one thing writing short blog posts though, quite another to write a book. What the hell do I know about writing a book? In an effort to answer that question I once bought a book called “How to write your first novel”. I should probably read it at some point. In saying that, I’ve a sense that a book needs characters and that they will develop and be discovered by the reader over the course of the story. I know a book needs a plot, a reason that binds all the strands of the book together. I know a book needs motifs, tone, and attitude. Beyond that, I don’t know how to write a book.

I enjoy writing fiction even though I’ve not managed to distance it from myself, to push it away to become a story that anyone can relate to. Instead anything I write is still to close to being me and I know that will constrain the characters. I don’t want to lose my voice completely but I still read what I write and hear ‘me’, not the voices of the people I’m writing.

I’ve been writing the book for some time. I may never finish it, others may never read it, but now and then I take a notion and write some more. On a given day I’ll read all the pieces together and rework them again. And again. And again. Each edit changing the voice, the direction, the pace.

I am writing a book.

I know what type of book I don’t want it to be and which traps I don’t want to fall into, just as I know what type of book I hope it might be, and unbounded expectations of how it might be received. I pause and daydream of life as a writer. Away from the 9 to 5, free to indulge myself, I imagine what I’ll learn about writing, about myself. Perhaps my book will be made into a movie!

Moments later reality floods in and I realise that whilst I am writing a book, I’ve never done it before and so I’ve no frame of reference to tell if it’s any good or not. I may be writing the worst book in the world but then, that’s not really the point.

I am writing a book that will never published. I am aware of this but unmoved by the fact.

I am writing a book for myself. It is not my story but merely an outlet, a way to give myself some direction and focus. It’s an act of distraction, of meditation and contemplation. A way of getting outside of me for a short space of time.

I am writing a book.

I figure if I say it often enough it might actually work out that way.

I am writing a book.

 

bookmark_borderWhat lies behind

She waits for the bus, her shopping trolley standing to attention at her side, the scuffed tartan material marking times past. She looks old, worn but upright. Head up, shoulders back, there is still some fight in there and she definitely, defiantly, isn’t finished with life just yet. Her face is set straight and stoic, a woman of her time, deep wrinkles betray a life of laughter long gone.

As the leaves kick and hop along the gutter at her feet she pulls her long dark jacket around herself to block the winds sneaky fingers; she never feels warm these days, not properly.

There is still a chill in the air on this dull March morning; long grey clouds scroll overhead and a thin smear of rain softens the morning light, clinging to jackets, dripping from umbrellas. Red traffic lights create a crawling conga of cars as the morning news is delivered through a multitude of differing drones, each voice reflecting the weary sobriety as the world quietly continues its inevitable descent.

Out of the corner of my eye a flash of colour appears, yellow and red, as it zig-zags unevenly along the pavement; a toddler splashing in puddles with unhidden abandon. She launches into the next pool of water with both feet, water still flying as she lands and turns to look at her mother behind her, delight etched wide on her face. Under her hat, golden locks curl and tumble, tiny hands protrude from her coat as she claps them together with glee. A ray of light in hyper-action on this slow, flat morning.

The old lady waiting for the bus turns at the noise, the skin on her neck tightens with the movement as she looks for the source. Her eyes find the young girl, shining and bright on such a drab morning, and in her bus stop she smiles gently. The girl and her mother wander past, searching for the next puddle to explore on their journey.

I sit in my car, cocooned from the world, separated from the dull noise of the morning news by my view, a tiny moment of my day.

I watch as they smile, unknowing. The grey lady and the bright child. I wonder what they are thinking.

The car in front of me moves off and I follow obediently, leaving behind a glimpsed moment and unanswered questions. Such is the pattern of life.

bookmark_borderAppreciation of Blue

blue dream abstract image

A clear blue afternoon, a quiet apartment, a man gazes up at the sky.

A comforting light that ebbs through the blinds, glowing lines in strict patterns on the floor, highlighting the knots and swirls of the floorboards.

The evening is settling around him as he sits quietly, leaning back in his favourite chair. A book lies open in his lap, propped open where he stopped reading, a soft voice sings in the background over a gently plucked guitar.

Looking out through the window he watches the clouds lazily scroll past, the blue already fading, heading for a soft and balmy evening. He casts his mind back and smiles at the chosen memories, forever private to him, meaningless to others, the tiniest moments from the past.

He has always had an eye for detail, for nuance and the finest shades of dark and light. He has never questioned his taste, only tried to refine it and embrace what it brought. He would find himself staring at the simplest of shapes for hours and it was the details he remembers. The gentle curve of a vase is what stuck in his mind not the year it was made, the gentle brushstrokes of a painted river lodged in his brain but mostly he would be unable to recall the artist. Exceptions occurred, Hofmann and Cezanne, Eames and Bass, a mish-mash of culture and design.

After a while the music changes as the sun slides out of view, the glowing pattern fading from the floor. He closes his eyes as he listens to her moving around in the next room and as he tries to guess what she’s doing, Cezanne and Bass combine, the stylised brushstrokes follow, dipping and blooming into view, each detail fresh in his mind.

A soft voice calls him to the bedroom.

As he rises from his chair he spots the last glimpse of blue slip from the sky. He knows it will return soon and, with a smile, follows her voice back to see it again.

bookmark_borderRed Pesto Chicken Pasta

I mentioned this dish on Monday and, as she asked so nicely, here is my recipe for Red Pesto Chicken Pasta. Although I’m sure you guessed that already…

First things first though, my brother-in-law made this for us a couple of weeks back, he’s a wonderful chef and I have completely and utterly stolen this dish from him. Sorry Paul!

What you need
2 chicken breasts
Penne pasta, enough for two
Red Pesto
Single cream
Parmesan (or any grana padano which is usually MUCH cheaper..)
Adjust portions for your own needs.

What you will use
1 pot – large enough to hold your pasta
1 frying pan – large enough to hold the chicken AND pasta combined, preferably a straight sided pan. A large cooking pot will suffice.
1 sharp knife, the sharper the better.
1 stirring implement… er… a wooden spoon or spatula.

How to make it
Firstly, get your pasta on to boil. You can just follow the instructions on the side of the pack, remembering to only add the salt once the water is boiling, and if you add a touch of oil along with the pasta it’ll help stop the pasta tubes from sticking to each other.

Now, slice up the chicken breasts into even sized pieces. I prefer smaller mouth-sized strips just a little bigger than the penne pasta, I think it helps give an even sauce coverage.

Aside: The topic of sauce coverage is of some debate in my house. I prefer to have a fine coating of sauce, lightly coating the pasta, and any other ingredients, so as to subtly slide over the palate. My wife takes the “sauce and some pasta” approach, casting the tubes of pasta adrift in a sea of passata at a moments notice (I shouldn’t be too nasty though as she makes dinner far more often than I do). Feel free to tweak this recipe to your own sauce preferences, but if you are of the latter persuasion don’t bother inviting me round!

Now, where was I? Ohh yes, you’ve got the pasta onto boil, so let’s cook the chicken.

In your frying pan, add a dash of oil, bring up to heat and add the chicken. Ideally you want a nice colour on both sides, but I’m sure you can all manage to fry some chicken. You can, of course, grill the chicken if you prefer. As long as it is cooked and there are no pink bits.

Depending on your timing skills, you may find that the chicken is ready before the pasta. Not to worry, just take it off the heat as we’ll be warming everything through before serving.

Check your pasta to see if it is ready. Some people like to throw bits of pasta at the wall to see if it sticks (although not sure what that tells them, other than that they should really clean their walls more often), but I generally prefer to actually bite into a bit to see if it’s to my liking. Al dente or whatever you prefer (although I’d suggest that ‘soggy mush’ means you’ve overcooked the pasta).

Once it’s ready, drain the pasta, and add some red pesto.

This, again, is entirely to taste. I’d suggest that you don’t want much more than a couple of teaspoons, just enough to give a nice soft covering. You should NOT have a sauce, the pesto should just cling to and pasta.

Once you are happy with the amount of pesto in your pasta, empty the pan out into your frying pan and mix it with the chicken.

Now, swirl in a dash or three of single cream (I dunno, maybe a tablespoon?) again don’t add too much, we don’t want a runny sauce! You are just adding enough so that it softens the colour of the pesto without washing it all off the pasta.

Heat gently for a minute or so, then serve topped with parmesan shavings, and possibly a nice Chablis. Enjoy!

serve and enjoy

What else can you add?
The main flavour of the dish is chicken and basil, the tomato in the pesto is very subtle, so from that simple base you could add other ingredients to give it a little extra ‘zing’. Maybe some finely chopped onion or a little chilli to give it a bit more kick, or some toasted almonds or pine nuts? Or for a more tomato-ey flavour how about some sun-blushed tomatoes?

bookmark_borderTaming Outlook 2003

Matt over at Life Without Toast was moaning about Outlook 2003, in particular about the Favorite Folders area. As I use Outlook 2003 at work, and in particular couldn’t live without my favorite folders so I offered to write a post about how I’ve tamed them for my usage. This is that post.

Warning: this is kinda long. If you don’t use Outlook just skip it.

Continue reading “Taming Outlook 2003”

bookmark_borderProduct Marketing

So, what do you do, as a blogger with ethics, when a company write to you to promote their product? Well, first of all you check out the product.

Now, according to Sharon Dupont who contacted me, the product in question:

provide[s] a simple Web 2.0 service that allows bloggers to include syndication feeds, like news headlines, posts from other blogs or podcasts, into their blogs without any programming knowledge required. We hope that our take on the “problem” might be of use to both bloggers and web surfers.

All well and good (I’m not saying I’d USE the product myself but some might be interested).

Now, I’m not in the habit of plugging things on here without good reason, and so before I posted this I emailed Sharon to ask her a few questions, primarily about the company behind the product, and if whether they were deliberately targetting blogs as a form of marketing.

That was a several weeks ago. I’m still waiting for a response.

There are many companies, let’s call them “traditional” companies (with offices and products that come in boxes), who ‘get’ the internet. They realise that an online presence can help their business. Some of these companies also realise that blogs can be used to improve communication with their customers, and the really enlightened ones have worked it into they way the work.

Yet some companies still see blogs as a ‘free ride’, presuming we’ll hawk their goods for them. They seem oblivious to the possible downsides (this post is one), and whilst I don’t feel sorry for them it does annoy me. There is no good reason why a successful company can’t have a blog and make that blog work. Or at the very least there is no good reason why a successful company can’t at least UNDERSTAND how they could WORK WITH bloggers.

An example: at the recent BlogHer conference in the States, a car company turned up at one of the social events with a couple of soft-top cars. They allowed people to take them for a spin, didn’t try and sell and largely contributed to the whole ‘fun’ ethos of the event. They didn’t hand out marketing brochures, or push their product in any way. Yet they benefitted. How? Numerous mentions of the fun people had in their cars, photos galore in Flickr, and we all now that Google loves links and they got a barrowload of them (barrel? barrow? hmm that’s an odd one).

Obviously this is a form of marketing but, when conducted in such a fashion as to be unobtrusive and actually giving something BACK, then I think it works. Wouldn’t you love to take a spin in a convertible on a nice sunny day? Of course you would.

Now it’s all well and good for a large corporation to provide such freebies but I think blogging can help smaller companies as well. Putting aside the fact that ANY kind of web presence is no longer good enough (if I want to stay in your hotel, let me see the rooms, check availability and prices please) then the success stories will be the companies that realise that it’s not the size of the audience that visits your site, it’s that the RIGHT PEOPLE VISIT YOUR SITE.

[insert penis related “size doesn’t matter” pun here]

If I run a business from my home, say a dog walking service, then it will benefit me more if my website is known to people that are in my area, have a dog, and would like their dog looked after during the day. Currently the best way to do that would be target dog shows, leaflet some houses in the area, or just get chatting to dog owners in the area.

Blogging may fit into that equation, but I’d see it as more of an add-on, a way of providing a human face to the business in an online context. For the moment, as blogging becomes increasingly popular it will continue to drive more and more ‘referrer business’ into all types of businesses. Those that are web-savvy now should be able to reap some benefits.

As for Ms. Dupont, I won’t mention the company/product name here as they don’t deserve the publicity (if you are really interested, google the quote), and here’s a tip for anyone with a business online. Be transparent. If you want me to invest my time and blog in your product, if you contact ME in an effort to market your product, presume I’ll do some research into the company behind the product and I’ll definitely want to be able to see the name of the person who contacted me listed somewhere on your site.

Blogging is huge, the numbers are startling, but until some businesses wise up it’s largely going to remain the remit of the hobbyists.