No nibbles this week, although one of the fish I'd already landed gave a wriggle in the bucket. The contract arrived for a story I sold a few months ago. Signed and returned. Does a writer ever get tired of making a sale, signing a contract or receiving copies of a book with their story inside?
I don't think I will.
My computer is finally dying. The old beast has served me well these past 5 or 6 years, but is starting to fail. USBs keep dropping out and screens keep locking. Even though, it's surprisingly quiet for an old thing. But a new machine arrives today and so I've backed everything up ready for transferring to the new one. Ah, technology. I'm so 21st Century.
Speaking of 21st Century and technology, I'm really enjoying Instagram. I'm starting to build some followers, and regularly hit 35-50 likes on my photos. Feel free to follow me. I'm nihilon.
At home it's been a strange old week. I've been off work for a couple of days with a throat thing. Lots of rest, warmth, lemon drinks and Game of Thrones to watch. I also watched The Phantom Menace, which I hadn't seen since it was first released. It wasn't as terrible as I remembered it, although I can see why it was panned at the time. OK, so a lot of world-building and history-setting at the cost of narrative, but I must admit to having enjoyed large sections of it purely as escapism. At least, a lot more than I thought I would.
On a nostalgic note, I walked past a bakery yesterday and was hit with the smell of warm yeast. It took me back to when I was a primary school kid and we went on an excursion to Harrison's Bakery. I think it was on Canterbury Road in Vermont, and I loved every minute of it. They showed us how they made bread, and even let as shape one each. I hope they didn't sell those ones.
And that smell? It reminded me of the importance of including all the senses in writing, as they trigger recognition with readers.
And no, even though I was tempted I didn't rush in and buy any bread.