Disliking people you've made

Before I became a mother, it always used to worry me I might have a child I didn't like. Can you imagine how awful that would be? Stuck for life with offspring that was dull or boring or just plain nasty - someone I couldn't stand the sight of.

Luckily for me, I was gifted with a child who is wonderful. I can talk for hours about how beautiful, funny, interesting and intelligent she is. She's good company and I enjoy every minute I spend with her, even when she's giving me cheek. And I'm already suffering pre-emptive empty nest syndrome, even though she still has three years of school left before she goes off to university. (She's just read this and wants me to tell you she also has lovely hair.)

Just as well I like her, really because you can't take your child back to the shop for a refund. And, whatever the childcare experts might advise, you can't change their personalities.

It's much easier with fictional characters. If you create a character you don't like, you can influence them to a much greater degree than you can a child. And you can, in drastic situations, perform corrective procedures on their entire personalities.

I've had to do this with my current WIP. The heroine was shrill and unreasonable. The hero was alpha to the point of being utterly obnoxious. So I've unearthed my writerly dissecting kit and tried to analyse exactly what was wrong with them - and made an attempt to rebuild them into nicer characters.

The heroine has had her edges softened. The hero has had his nasty streak amputated. I think the result is much more pleasant - and now I feel these are people I'd like, rather than a couple I'd avoid at parties.

(There are a few characters in real life I'd like to perform the same corrective surgery on, but that's another story.)

I'll let you know as soon as I hear if I've done enough to turn it into a saleable manuscript, but please keep your fingers crossed for me.

Next time: Reasons I love my Mother's Day TV

Getting words written (or not)

I'm convinced, however much I might wish it otherwise, that I could never be a full time writer. There's a very simple reason for this. Whenever the whole day stretches ahead of me, empty apart from the promise of working on my stories - I will end up doing anything but.

Take yesterday, I got up particularly early, got all my wee jobs done, and settled to my laptop by 10.30am. There was very little else I needed to do apart from write. So did I? Did I knickers. This is especially annoying as there's a project I'm keen to finish. A long project. The end is in sight - I just need a final couple of bursts to get it done.

But, instead of getting to down to work, I surfed the net. I visited blogs. I read emails. At one point I even did some housework. And here we are, at the start of a brand new day, and nothing's been added to my project.

Sadly, I have to face the uncomfortable truth I write best when I should be doing something else. Surely that has to be the ultimate in procrastination?

So, today, I plan to finish my tax return. That should ensure I'll get some words written.

Something to look forward to

An email doing the rounds at work: With age, a lady will find her legs become naturally less hairy. This is useful because she will then have more time to tend the newly sprouted moustache and beard.
Isn't it great being a woman?

Falling out of love with my Christmas Kindle

Finally Blogger has decided to keep me logged in, so I can comment this evening (so far only on my own blog, but I'm hopeful it will last). Here, as promised, is my Kindle post:

That honeymoon didn't last long. Don't get me wrong, I'm still fond of the Kindle's good points - particularly the germ free reading and the knowlege nobody will ever again be able to throw my entire book collection into a skip (we all know what happened, so I'm not going to keep going on about it, but there are some things a person should never forgive).

But, but, but...

As the weeks have gone on, I've identified things I'm not too happy with:

• It's awkward to hold. Several times, as I've drifed off to sleep, it's fallen and hit me in the eye. A real book has never done that.
• The Kindle is a machine. I've heard stories - horror stories - of people being left with NOTHING TO READ when their Kindles have broken down.
• Cost of books: Some of the Kindle versions can cost as much as or slightly more than the paperback version. I know there's VAT on Kindle books. But there are no printing costs, distribution costs, storage costs or costs associated with shelf space, so the old-bag-book-keeper in me thinks this is ludicrous and unfair.
• The American version, I believe, allows friends and family to borrow books. I wouldn't lend a book out illeagally, ever. But, as the technology's available, it would be nice if I could let friends borrow books from my Kindle, just as they can with my real life library.
• Worryingly, there have been reports Amazon have taken to sensoring books retrospectively. Or deleting books altogether. They've always had a good excuse, either the material is questionable or there's a query over rights. But the very fact they are able to do this worries me. This is the equivalent of them knocking at the door to demand the return of a real book - and I've never heard of that happening.
• A Kindle doesn't feel like a real book. It doesn't smell like a real book. It doesn't give me goosebumps when I pick it up, like a real book does.
• This is what's disturbed me most I think: Amazon have gone all 1984ish and are spying on our reading habits through our Kindles. When we download books, information must be fed in the opposite direction, too, because they can show me passages that other readers have highlighted. They know what I read and when - and probably use the information as a force for evil, relentlessly marketing. I'm not fond of being spied on.
• And I've been left wondering, if I download my own work onto my Kindle so I can read before submitting, will Amazon be tempted to fiddle with that? I know that makes me sound big headed - surely Amazon have much better things to do than fiddle with my WIPs. But, when I was a teenager, I asserted my individuality by wearing a variety of badges on my school blazer - one of my favourites announced:  'Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get me'. And it's true.

Having said all that, I think the Kindle is a great supplement to real books. I'll certainly be hanging onto mine for dear life - particularly for the convenience of having so many book in such a small space. But, if I'm considering a book that costs more than a few pounds, or a book I know is a keeper, I'll be going the real route every time.