Normally, when people say 'A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words', I get really huffy. You know, just on principle. But today...today, I find that I have no words. So pictures will have to do.
As you know, Dear Readers, this week I was intending to start work on revisions of Book One of Big Secret Project. Now, every book is different, and with some books the revision and re-writing before I send the draft to my agent and editor is a dread thing. But Big Secret Project makes me so happy, Dear Readers. It gives me giggles and rainbow sparkles and fluffy unicorn lulz. So when I say that I was eager to begin work on the revisions, I'm understating. In fact, the idea of diving back into my beloved project made me feel like this:
Monday morning came, and as you also know (if you were paying attention) I was unearthed from bed quite early by a distress call from my mother and her ailing computer. But after a few hours of pressing buttons and swearing and burning offerings to the Tech Gods, I got it up and working and was able to return to my own computer and my beloved BSP. And I was pleased:
Further fiddling, consultation with a Computer Support Person, and a bucketful of tears later, we came to the realisation that the problem with my mother's beloved laptop was not one that could be fixed by mere human intervention. And the Tech Gods weren't listening. And as the only computer literate person in the immediate vicinity, it was going to be my job to jump in there and do damage control.
Complete system back-up while the thing was still whirring away. Quick research on the cheapest alternative model and an order. Quickly checking and writing down all the passwords for various websites and systems that my mum never bothered to remember because she had the computer set to automatic login. A million tasks presented themselves to me, and took up pretty much the whole day. At the end of it, I staggered away and collapsed in front of the TV, brain dead.
But at least I could get to work tomorrow, right?
In an act of such painfully annoying efficiency that it makes me want to sharpen my teeth with a pencil sharpener and then bite someone, somehow the replacement computer arrived yesterday morning, less than twenty-four hours after I ordered it.
This was the cause of great rejoicing for the aforementioned mother, but not so much for me as it was of course going to be my task to set up this new computer, transfer every single file and folder from the old one to it, download all the freeware (like iTunes, VLC Media Player and various anti-virus and malware programmes) and introduce my mum to scary new features like a power button and power socket in a completely different area than she was used to. In other words? No writing on Tuesday.
But tomorrow! Tomorrow it's all going to be fine, right? Computer crisis averted! Nothing to do but write, write, write!
Er...no. Because just after dinner I got a call from the plumber telling me that he and his crew would be coming around to do fiddly work in my attic in order to make my boiler safe. And anyone who can write with workmen traipsing through the house, demanding cups of tea and making the dog go into a barking fit every twenty seconds is a better man than I am Gunga Din.
My current mood?
That little scree-scree-scree noise you hear? That's me sharpening my fangs after all.
Lesson: do not keep writers from their words. IT MAKES THEM DANGEROUS AND UNSTABLE.