This Won't Be Pleasant

Okay, I lost my actually really good job today. The overlords whom I've lost some fondness for sent me to this factory that specialises in gardening supplies and I actually liked it there. People were nice, work wasn't so hard and the pay was good. To me, it was a really good job and they ditched me because I was too fucking slow for them. FUCK!

I hate working for casual agencies, I hate getting pushed around and I hate not getting anything when I give so much to the people around me. You know that shitty end of the stick... I'm the sorry bastard who always gets it! This wasn't meant to be a good or memorable posting. It was meant to tell people that I'm pissed off, unhappy and bitchy and none of it needs anyone's criticism, okay!

That's it!

About The Mermaid And The Manuscript

I didn't submit to Pan MacMillan. A little yet convincing voice in my head told me that I shouldn't and that maybe one of those appraisals the Writer's Centre does is the answer to my problems. So, that's what I did. I went into Melbourne on Monday with a copy and too much money, got lost on Elizabeth St before learning that the centre was right next to the library (the website needs to mention location markers), and I did the big handover thang.

Other than that I was surprised to learn that the centre was a lot smaller than I expected, and that my buddy Janet was there. She was doing a proof reading as part of her internship and we had a bit of a chat. She told me she was organising spoken word arvos in Nunawading and I invited myself to her booklaunch. All in good spirits.

Anyway, I gave them the copy and I went for a walk down to the Yarra because I had two other endeavours to take part in on my Odyssey. For a while I've been meaning to try out some saffron rice at this Indian place in Southbank, and I finally did along with two different types of chicken- butter and Tandoori. I have to say that I like the rice, but if I had a choice I'd only have the butter chicken from now on. Tandoori is hot and a little dry for my liking.

That said, my second endeavour involved a book... and wait for it, this was a picture book you would have figured out was The Little Mermaid. I found this copy a few months ago and I was taken back by the traditional illustrations which lit up the pages. There was another copy there but it wasn't as impressive. The copy I have was naturally written by the crazy Dutchman Hans Christian Andersen, translated by Naomi Lewis (love both of those names) and illustrated by Christian Birmingham. Sorry, no catchy remark.

Anyway, I'm very confident that I'm going to treasure my copy forever, and it was such a welcome relief from that Disney version (they get everything wrong). Besides, I needed the book because there's a character in my series whom I want to base around the little mermaid a bit, and I can really do that because I've done my homework. Also I liked the sea witch a lot more and I hated the stupid prince cos he can't bloody settle for the mute girl who feels pain for him. DOUCHE!

PS I'm taking a lot more time with Oryx and Crake than I expected. It's nothing like The Handmaid's Tale.

As I Sit Here

As I sit here waiting impatiently for the final season of Lost to begin (I'm eager to find out what's happening with Claire and Cindy), I'm also a little confident if not a little ambitious about my next attempt at getting a publishing deal. I was knocked back by the Australian Literary Management today, and I was bummed. However, the letter said they weren't interested simply because they weren't excited about my novel, so that's good I guess.

So I'm looking ahead, and I'm going to try out Pan Macmillan in Sydney. I checked their website and they don't ask for agents or any of that crap, so I'm gonna do it. They do all of Matthew Reilly's books, so mine's bound to come off as intelligent compared to his, eh. I'm affraid that's all I've got to say, other than I hate my effing job and it's way to hot in these parts.

Have a good life...