Hmm, it's a good day, a bit uneventful though, maybe I'll go a-walking about a bit.
I had a couple of recovery days from the picturebook work stint, where I just did some writing and tried to design a T-Shirt for threadless.com just to find someone else had submitted a hamster wheel the same day.
Today I got over a bump in the story I'm writing in the morning-hours, and somehow connected it to an older one I wrote years ago, and realised that it actually fits with a whole load of other story ideas I've got racked up. Now I'm wondering if I could make it into a series of little supernatural novels all set around the same core. I'm also wondering if I want to propose them under a pseudonym so I don't have to fuss over whether they fit in with the picture books. I'm a bit concerned that people might get put off the one by the other. My picture books seem to come out manic and happy and like I've made them listening to Jazz music while drinking copious amounts of Coca-Cola, which is mostly true, while the novels read like I wrote them between waking up at dawn and quietly going back to sleep for another hour some time later, just to wake up a different person who grabs a cup of coffee and puts on the Jazz and gets painting dancing hamsters. Maybe they should have different names, for the readers' ease of comprehension.
Then I spent the rest of the morning reading the paper and actually starting to feel sorry for Paris Hilton. I wish they'd stop faffing her about and just stick her in prison - since reckless driving is a serious crime - with some really good support at hand - since she's losing it. - Somehow I always get distracted by celebrity breakdowns.
I went for a walk on Thursday to see new things, and came past a house that I notice every time when I go past on the bus to work - it's one in a long row of houses that all look the same, but it's different because someone covered the outside in animals. Animal statues and plaques, bolted to the walls and standing in the little front garden. I'd noticed briefly last time that now the garden is also covered in bunches of flowers, and when I walked past I saw that the iron fence of the front yard was smashed in completely, and there was a framed newspaper article fixed to a lamp-post detailing the story: a lady got crushed by a car in that yard, she was trying to scoop up her dog when she saw it coming. (She didn't manage to save the dog.) She was a few days away from her golden wedding anniversary and died leaving lots of family behind. - It's almost impossible to go for a walk in London without coming past a memorial site, but this one really got me, just because I'd actually sometimes wondered who lived in that funny house plastered with animals on that grey street.
Makes me feel a lot less sorry for Paris Hilton. And sort of glad that I don't hold a driving license. Cars worry me sometimes.