Well that’s a surprise
This blooming coldFirst, this blooming cold, or whatever it is, is damn persistent. I still have a bit of a rattly cough and a head full of stuff. Neither of those are a problem, but the post-run damage is a pain. Absolute tiredness. I was on the phone earlier and all I wanted to do was sleep. But, a cup of tea later and I’m ok. And I know that I’ve not had it anywhere near as bad as some, so I should be thankful for that. Keep safe everyone.
The new house is just fab. And we haven’t seen the best of it as the weather has been so poor. I’ve just about sorted the shed (actually a stable) and the main rooms are pretty much done. The large study-come-walk-in wardrobe is miles from being finished, so that is next week’s job. But the place is warm and inviting. And our almost favourite occupation – watching a film post supper – is perfectly met with the sitting room and its three sofas. Yes, three. One each, and one for our imaginary friend.
Big sis, little sisIf you follow me on FB/Insta you’ll also know that the dear old Focus, now 117k miles down and 17 years old, has got a new(er) sister. The electrical fault, which I wrongly assumed I had fixed, returned mid-week. For the second time she just wouldn’t start. There’d be a noise, like the fuel pump working, and then nothing, not even any lights on the dash. As before, I tried five or six times to start her … and then, vroom. She burst into life, as if nothing was wrong, and why were we worried?
We couldn’t go on like that. The code reader gave a general fault and I assumed that it was damp which had penetrated something. As an intermittent issue I had to guess that a garage would struggle to find it. So we were in ‘buying a replacement’ territory. In a rush, too. We had Mary to take back to Godalming and, a week later, Chatel beckoned. I already knew we wanted a 1.0 ecoboost/equivalent engine, we just had to find the right car. Two days later we were driving away from a distant garage in rural Somerset with an unmarked, 63-plate silver Focus, 1.0 ecoboost, with 45,000 miles on the clock. And, thus far (we’re in Godalming) she’s been fab – 50 mpg on the way down here with three up + luggage. I’ve got to do something about winter tyres, and we need to get some roof bars so we can manage five sets of skis when we all meet in Chatel, but hopefully that’s done. Typically the old Focus got us down to the garage and back without a blip. I’m not yet sure what we’re going to do with her.
An, as yet unedited start …And new news … about the ghostwriting job. Job, of course, is a misnomer as I’m not charging for my time. But it looks like it’s certainly going to keep me busy.
I spent a virtual hour and a half with Guy (the chap I’m writing for) on Monday, with a view to getting everything I need for the first chapter, and a promise to have something with him a week later – this Monday. I had absolutely no idea if I could translate his story into words which he might have wanted to put down on paper, if he could type (which he can’t) and form the sentences into a readable narrative (which he assures me, he can’t either). I started the same day and it’s taken me until today to scribe 3,500 words which I think meets his intent. We’ll find out next week if that’s the case after I share it with him.
But that’s not all. Since Guy asked me to ghostwrite his memoir, rather than me write a story about him – which would have meant accompanying him on part of his journey to South Africa – I have been a little nonplussed about the whole affair. I’m an imagineer, not a ghostwriter. The first is immersive, the second, responsive. I wasn’t even sure I could make a good stab at it. But, do you know what? The story is so engrossing and Guy’s personality so open, I’ve really enjoyed it so far …
… and, as for exposure. Well then. Guy’s niece is going to market both the book and the one-hour documentary. And his niece’s resume is pretty startling. She has reach everywhere. She was Bryan Adam’s publicist for his latest book, plus countless other v well known clients (Monty Don, Ai WeiWei, David Bailey, Charles Sattchi, just to name a few). She’s talking about a media explosion in September, with international TV and radio exposure. And she’s going to find a publisher, which is more than I’ve ever done (to be fair, Kindle took Fuelling the Fire from me and kept it for five years selling over 5,000 copies). But traditional publisher. Nah.
All of a sudden, then, rather than helping an old pal write a book which might reach a limited audience of Army pals and those with an interest in Parkinson’s, we might be onto something much bigger. Hence the blooming book has to be good. And that, of course, is the billion dollar question. I have no idea. If it were one of the Sam Green books, I’d have some confidence. But a memoir penned for someone else? Give me a break.
Anyhow, it’s given me a focus. I’ll know by the end of next week whether or not the focus is short lived or not. I hope it stays the course, but I will not be surprised if Guy looks for a replacement.
Stay safe everyone.
