What Is Happening With NaNo?

 Right, so without rehashing all of the details of what has already been shared on so many different platforms now, I want to talk about what is going on with NaNoWriMo, why it's important and why it sucks.

Once a time, in what was actually a different century, way back in 1999, twenty one writers decided to do something a little bit crazy and try to write fifty thousand words (the industry standard minimum length for a novel) in a month. I was going to write 'in thirty days' but I want to say the original one happened in July, so it wouldn't have been thirty days!

From humble beginnings it became something incredible, because it spread across the globe, with participants in a number of different languages, with forums and somewhere in the last 25 years, the Young Writer's Program was born, and the program started support, well, young writers. You have to be 13 to be on the forums, or to have an account which doesn't have your parent's email address on it, but you can job younger, particularly if your teacher or another educator is running a program to help get young people writing. You can also access the main forums from age 13 as well, where young writers can ask question of, less young writers, or can just discuss life, the universe and anything else. 

Somewhere along the way, because of a number of different reasons, the forums have become a problem both on the 'main' site and also on the YWP and there are a lot of details to that, and it's shit, because these spaces are a refuge for many of us, a haven for many of us, and they have been the space where we are social, where we find our answers and where we find our friends. These spaces are sacred in a way, but right now, they're locked, and that is the way that they should stay until they can be managed safely.

Writers are a lot like other artists; they're strong but they're also really fragile. There's been trauma dumping going on in the forums which is difficult enough for an international group of adults, but when it happens in the children's space and kids are feeling the pressure of supporting other people, particularly their friends through significant mental health issues, something is going wrong. When users of a forum can't rely on the people there to protect them, even when it's from each other, there is a major problem. Some of the issues have been so significant that they have required reporting to law enforcement and that's a really sticky situation, because of the international nature of the group.

I don't think anyone ever imagined, back in 1999 that we would reach a peak of 400,000 people (I think that was during COVID) and still be around 350,000 people today. Well, we were before these issues became so universally known. The impact of that change and the global reach of the website have made this project a lot more complicated than could have been anticipated back then, and another accusation that has been banded about over the last few years particularly, is that the projects are still very much America-centric. For a number of us, that is categorically true. Participation is possible, but different for international people. When I flew to America in 2018 because of NaNoWriMo I was one of two people who had flown over and the other lady was from Germany. Everyone else was from somewhere in America (except for one of the staff who was from Canada). Now I know that's a least in part because it was an utter privilege to be able to do it, but at the same time, it's the biggest event of NaNoWriMo and there wasn't really anything like virtual participation. I'm not sure what the answer is for something like that, but being focused mostly on America is a problem, particularly when it comes to fundraising. 

One of the big reasons that this is so bad is because NaNo has been hanging on by a thread for a long time. Things that were planned upgrades for the sites weren't able to happen because there was just no budget. The organisation does have sponsors, but the majority of the operating budget is from donations and those donations have a long way to stretch. They fund the websites, the forums, the staff, the packs sent to schools which support YWP as well as the gifts given to MLs (regional leads) to say thank you for their support, as well as the stickers that are sent to regions with MLs for participants. There are designers to pay, tech support and so much more. Anything which affects public opinion of the organisation, like the accusations that have been made, always impacts the financial contributions that are received by the organisation and the capacity to recover from that is going to be stretched because there wasn't a lot of buffer anyway.

The worse part, even than the money because we have worked with less, is that the trust in the organisation could be shattered beyond repair. If things aren't resolved for the YWP, those young people might be lost from the organisation for good, and if adults manage to replace what the organisation gives them with something else, then the entire community that has been built could be slashed to bits, and actually it looks like it is happening, or it is very close to happening. 

Having been part of this since I was 16, I know how important the organisation has always been to me, but I also know that keeping it is not an at all costs thing, and that has only really come about because of the fact that losing it has been a very real possibility in the last few weeks. Without it being the safe space that it should be for everyone, it doesn't have anything like the same value. We're working with the forums shut down and honestly it's fragmented the community more than destroyed it, but I guess that's a kind of destruction. 

It's Been 10 Years, But I Just

Over the last few weeks, I have been itching to have another crack at writing the sequel to Fairies, because it's been ten years (almost) since I wrote it, I'm back in the place I wrote it (mostly) and I feel like it's about time. As in, it's about time I wrote it, the novel isn't about time. That would add a whole other level of complicated I can't deal with right now. 

4thewords is continuing to be a helpful beastie, because it makes me write at least 444 words a day, and sometimes the hurdle is just starting and putting pen to paper... well, fingers to keys. Once I get going, I'm not anywhere near NaNoWriMo personal bests of 20k days or writing 100k in a month, but I can crack through between 1.5-5k words a day without it interrupting my day too much, so where is the problem? 

Part of the problem is the characters. **If you haven't read Fairies, this is going to contain spoilers, so please consider this your alert.**

Fairies finished with Nate, Adamson, Louie, and, I want to say Felix, but who knows at this point!, returning to the fairy world because an eternal life as a fairy was better than a limited human life. They could make an impact on the lives of humans and they were important there. Seemingly simple? 

It's really not simple. 

Following on from their return to the fairy world, things change around quite a bit, so there's some of the sequel which is about them, some which is about Frank as my favourite person who was left behind in the human world (and someone who crops up into another novel I've been writing for just next to forever but needs a bit of character development in between the two!) and two new characters. One of the new characters is 'evil' and in league with the imps and the other is the one causing me the most problems, as she's Felix's (he's definitely called Felix - I checked) daughter. Originally I intended the story to be just about her, but every time I start writing about her, she seems to find some sort of tangent to go on and finding the way to make the actual storyline (and the reason I'm writing the book in the first place) to happen seems to be beyond me at the moment. 

Ah well - I've had a moan about it, and now I can get back to writing it, even though it's been at least five years since I read Fairies over again (only cringing most of the way through it) so the details are a little hazy and I have no idea where either the .pdf file or the proof copies are, but that's just a bit tough, isn't it?

NaNow That It's Over,

When NaNoWriMo finished, I raised a glass of prosecco alone in my flat celebrating the ending of it all. It was a really long month this year, and it was really hard for a lot of reasons, and some of those reasons I don't know. 

It has been over for a little less than a week, and whilst there isn't the constant stress that invades all of life, I've also only made myself sit and write twice this week and I miss the social elements of write-ins, because whilst chatting with people at work is nice, it's also not quite as sociable as I want to be. It's not talking to writers about their novels and then encouraging them to keep going. It's certainly not everyone being almost as invested in everyone else's project as the person writing it. 

Although we haven't had our Thank Goodness It's Over party, it feels like I have my weekends back. 

This year was my wordiest year so far, managing to write over 101k, and I will hopefully write something more on that later. I managed two 20k days, which was amazing, and I also kept it together through a month where I felt like my anxiety was pulling me in a million different directions. Despite the overwhelming urge to sleep all of the time, I got up every day, I did my job and I also worked on my novel. I was an ML, I supported my writers, I ran Twitter word sprints and supported other writers and I was all over the Facebook pages for advice, the moments when people forgot words and other general cheerleading. Somehow managed to avoid ever writing a blog post in that, which isn't like me during November. 

The upshot of it all is that it feels like only yesterday that NaNoWriMo started, but it seemed to take forever to come to an end, and as a team we needed it to end, but we also didn't want it to. I feel really conflicted about it, I feel disappointed that I haven't been writing as much as I was during November, but I am also so so glad that the amount of stress I was under has decreased, because I'm not sure how long I would have been able to keep going through that. 

Catch you later.

Prepping for Pantsing,

Every year, during NaNoWriMo, I proudly pronounce myself Team Pantser, and that's still the case. I am so proud to wear my knickers like Superman and fly by the seat of my pants through NaNo (metaphorically, of course), but that is only with respect to planning the novel. When it comes to Preptober - trust me, I am a prepper. 

When I finished NaNoWriMo as a winner for the first time, it was my second attempt. I wrote at college, I wrote on the bus, I wrote at home and for the first three days I had no idea what I was writing. Some of it was utter garbage, it was a stream of consciousness, but I was writing, and I was doing it at speed. The novel that was born in that competition was eventually dedicated to my toaster, my kettle, and my mum. I've proved since then that I don't need to be living with my mum (and relying on her for cooking dinners and making brews) to finish as a winner, but right at that point, I needed her as much as I needed to win. 

Over the next few years, I have gotten faster and faster with writing and I've also gotten better and better at preparing myself. October 31st tends to be a day where I nap after work and I get myself a pizza and from midnight, I eat pizza and write a couple of thousand words, but I know it's not just that. I have an idea of the number of events I will be going to, I have an idea of what I'm going to be writing with - typewriter, pen, and paper, something electrical... - and I have a plan for keeping myself healthy for at least the first week. I shop cook and freeze what I can and make sure I have bananas. There's plenty that I think about and make decisions on practical planning for NaNoWriMo. 

As such, the @londonnano Instagram page is running a #preptober series of practical things to think about ahead of 31st October. Feel free to follow us, like, comment or message. I'll be writing some blogs on the subjects that are posted up there, too! 

The Recipe for Happiness,

If you've clicked on this link hoping for something akin to exactly what the title suggests, I am afraid you may be bitterly disappointed. The first thing I need to get out of the way is the idea that happiness can be achieved by a list of a few things, the same for everyone and puff, everything is perfect. Maybe not quite boiled down to this extent, but a lot of people seem to believe that this is the case. 

Happiness is something that I think about a lot, and it's something I've read a lot about. One of the reasons for that is that I have been working in Mental Health for approximately the last fifteen months (a year and a quarter - however you prefer to read it, the time line is the same) and part of it is the fact that I have my own mental health diagnosis. Something I have learnt because of both of those things is that happiness can be an elusive beast and we seem all to able to look back and see happiness in the past, but only be able to see our current misery. There is a reason for this. 

One of my big beliefs - other than God, true love and the fairies who are currently irritated that we don't have a garden - is that it is almost impossible to be permanently happy. That's not something which saddens me at all. I've studied philosophy for long enough to understand and accept the theory that "bad things" can simply be a privation of the thing we want. Darkness is simply the lack/absence of light, evil is the lack/absence of goodness (though I am far less sold on this one in particular) but I don't think that depression, or sadness, or any other synonyms you wish to use are solely down to a lack of happiness. I think they're something different and they're actually down to a lack of contentment.

The easiest way to describe it, I think, is that happiness is like an orgasm. For most people, it takes time, it takes some effort, whether by yourself or with someone else, and it's relatively short lived. Now, that's not to say that sex is boring, it's not to say that there is no pleasure or worth in it, but it's like happiness is that pinnacle moment, so really we need to look for something else. What is that feeling that we have before hand, at the same time as and following that pinnacle moment? That's when it's important to be content. 

I've heard of people talking about contentment as a bad thing. It's almost as though you're choosing to "settle" for something which is "lesser". There is a reason I have marked those two words out. There have been studies that show that the environment that we have created for ourselves within our society isn't structured to bring about happiness, and I think that part of that is because we have been designed to not be content. Think about it - how far out of your home can you get before you see an advertisement? And what is that advertisement there to do? To sell you insurance - firstly they've got to convince you that it's possible bad things will happen, and insurance is the only way to cope. How about make up? First, they have to convince you that the way you look anyway isn't good enough. Okay, what about clothes and cars and stuff? You need to be convinced that you either don't have enough stuff or it's the wrong stuff. It's the out of date stuff. Hurry up, get the next thing or you'll be left behind. We're in this environment where it's not about having enough to be content, or to be able to live easily or anything like that - there's a pressure to earn more money, to spend more money, to have more stuff and then to display it to everyone. How on Earth is that going to make anyone happy? It's even more momentary, even more fleeting, because you get the thing and then minutes later it's no longer good enough. 

I don't want to sounds like one of those pompous idiots who have revelations in the shower, but I was sat in my reading chair (the acquisition of which did actually provide me immense happiness, partly because it was cheap, it was second hand and it wasn't leather and also it was so perfectly the vision of what I wanted that I had to pinch myself to show I wasn't dreaming) and I was reading Jojo Moyes Me Before You and I realised that, as little as two months ago, I had been sat around elsewhere in the flat and I had been listless and restless and unable to decide what to do, but had no motivation to do anything. It was partly my diagnosis, it was partly my medication to deal with that condition and it was partly this idea that I was looking for something quick to make me happy. Even today, I was sat there wanting to devour that book and get to the ending - partly, I believe, because it is an excellent novel and I just love every second of it, but also partly because I am not perfect, and I think finishing the book will make me happy - but I could feel myself smiling. Granted, I wasn't over the moon elated, but I was, and am, content that I don't need to do anything more with my weekend than sit in a chair that I love, reading a book that I love, and I don't need to get out of my pjs yet, because I am content in this moment. Now maybe that's because it's the post-NaNoWriMo high or maybe because I spent some time with friends watching Christmas movies yesterday or maybe it's because I start a new job tomorrow, but I would like to think it's also a little bit because I've accepted that not every day can be an adventure, and actually, I can be happy right here. 


Also: Sorry I haven't been writing here a lot. There's a lot that I have wanted to write, but my anxiety has got in the way. I think I'm doing better now, so might be around a bit more. Catch you later. C x 

Oh, Balls,

Is November really that close? Already? Are you quite sure? Oh dear, oh dear, oh balls. 

I was ready 2 days ago, but this always happens. I feel like I'm hitting the peak too soon and I am ready for NaNoWriMo to start early and then, this happens. This being the craziness of feeling like the world is about to crumble, catch fire and ultimately end because Jesus H. Christ why am I doing this to myself all over again? WHY? 

I'll tell you why - I thrive on the madness. 

Every year I tell myself I will be a good girl and prepare myself for the impending craziness, like stretching when you want to exercise. I will prepare myself for what's about to happen to me and then every bloody year I go, nah, sack that and pants it like Superman. It is never a very good plan. 

This time around feels no different, though having cool news digs is making it feel slightly more sane, I don't have a freezer big enough to store all of the pizza I could possibly need to last the duration of this month, which is less than brilliant. I also did a potentially silly thing and joined a gym. Unlike most people, if I'm paying to be a member of the gym, I will attend it, but the problem I have there is that I naturally won't be able to write whilst doing so (maybe with my phone on the treadmill or the bike, but I am pretty sure that would factor into a list of weirdest places to write in so maybe not) so it is either going to cut into my writing time or my sleeping time and my sleeping time already takes a hit during NaNo. Oh this is just going to go wonderfully, isn't it? 

I'm really looking forward to this now...

Catch you later

Let's Be Adults About This,

Not like that. Well,.

As previously mentioned, - and I will continue to mention because I'm bloody proud of it - I've just moved into a new flat, but my God are there a lot of things to sort out. 

Getting out of the old place was a hassle and half, because I had moved into there from my little studio. I had a kitchen full of utensils and machines that had to either fit into a much smaller selection of cupboards, or be relegated to the boxes in the loft. As such, there was quite a bit of stuff to come down out of the loft, the furniture to be either moved or deconstructed and the room to be cleaned. Honestly, all that didn't go so badly, however the major snag which did occur was when the van had a blow out on the M25. Thankfully my dad was in the van with the moving men or I would have been doing a Chicken Run (place head between knees and kiss your bum goodbye). 

It was a little bit crazy getting everything in, but that is where the fun really starts. Not only are there a ridiculous amount of boxes covering my living room, there's bills to sort out and it took me until Thursday to actually get any hot water as the gas was capped whilst no one was living in the property. I'm trying to sort my life out whilst spending time back in Manchester looking after my dog, Teddy (@teddytheshihtzu on Instagram).

All in all, I'm really doing the adult thing. I'm even going to be going to Ikea to pick up some new flat pack furniture and then will be constructing it myself. (Granted, my mum is going to be there to help me to carry it home...) Part of me really can't wait to go home. 

Catch you later. 

I Write Sins, Not Tragedies,

I miight as well just jump right into the middle of my thought processes at the moment, because that is all that this is going to be anyway... 

Usually, I write a good old romance novel and then discount it after November as a pile of crap, but a good exercise of focus. Things I love are put down whilst I do it and often are not picked up again because I am fickle at best with these things. 

November was different, but not in the usual way that writers say oh this is different because this current project is the best thing I have ever produced. It's different because, well, it's a whole different kettle of fish. 

I have previously tried to write things with a bit of disaster and craziness in the middle, but this is a sort of semi-apocolyptic thing with a romance novel in the middle of it. I keep needing to step away from it for a bit and then go back to it, just to give myself some headspace to recover. The problem is that writing anything which is that harrowing can be an emotional experience that really takes it out of you. The stuff that I'm writing at the moment is the stuff of my nightmares, but I have to keep reminding myself that it is the fabric of some people's lives and that really isn't overly far away when you think about it. 

And on that sombre note, I will catch you later. 

Despite the Protest of Injured Fingers,

I decided it was better to write this early and have it waiting in the wings so to speak, in a kind of Blue Peter, here's one I wrote earlier -esqe style...  And then I forgot to post it! WELL DONE CHARLIE!

It's that time of year again where I start making badly veiled references to camping and an almost feel my readership groaning as they wonder how many times I will do this - All of the times, kids, all of the times. 

As we head into April, the nights are brighter, moods are clearer and the only rain we're praying for is our imaginations. I'm much more settled in my job than I was in November (where I had been in post for a day before the madness started) and I am hoping that there will be time, though not an ample amount I am sure, to commit to the doing of a thing. 

Much like the camping trips of my youth, I am attempting not to plan too much and will be flying by the seat of my pants. Yes, there is a funny photograph which goes along with the memory, no, I will not be sharing it. 

It's going to be a funny old month though. Despite the fact that my Easter plans have unfortunately changed from what I thought they were to be, I am still not going to be in London. I'm going to Yorkshire with my parents and the dog - I'm not sure if I had previously mentioned that they have got a dog, but yes, that's a thing, and we are taking him on his first holiday. As much as my idea of a holiday would be trotting off to a cottage, sitting by a roaring fire and having the dog pottering around, it is not really for the Easter holiday when the temperatures are supposed to be such that the roaring camp fire feels as though it is burning in the air. 

Here is goes, cringe if you must, so I will be pitching up to Manchester mid month, praying for a miracle and a steady stream of ideas, climbing mount improbable and abseiling down the other side, wearing odd socks, getting muddy, getting soaked, eating snacks, though leaving the pork scratchings for the dog, hoping that only my imagination rains and that the trees are alive with the sound of inspiration. Procrastination can take a hike, there will be no one manning its station. Pacck you marshmellows and grame crackers, wash your socks in the sink, layer up on the jumpers and let the wasps drown in your hot vimto drink. The world is going mad, or might have already gone, so hi ho, hi ho, it's off to the Camp Na No retreat we go, with a notebook and pen, we're doing this again, hi ho, hi ho, hi ho. 

Catch you later.

As If I Needed,

I have gone and done myself an, albeit minor, injury.

Last week, in a fit of infinite stupidity a message between brain and muscle got confused so instead of moving a whiskey glass upwards and sideways, I moved it diagonally, smashed it into a table, smashing it and slicing open a large cut in my finger. As that was bleeding profusely and refusing to heal quickly - it was pretty grim - I apparently failed to notice that a glass splinter had lodged in another of my fingers. Now that the cut is healing, the glass splinter is causing me a few problems.

Part of the problem with this is it is on my dominant hand and my other finger is still sore from the injury it sustained. My typing speed has taken a real hit and as this splinter is in the tip of my index finger, which is my main digit for typing. It's also pretty vital for pens and quills, so I can't even handwrite everything.

It might seem like I'm being dramatic - it surely feels dramatic when people around me are insisting I go to a walk in centre or something - but it really is rather bothersome at the moment.

Hopefully it won't have too dramatic an effect as it is almost Camp NaNo and I think, after much debate, I am going to commit myself to a project, though exactly what that is going to be I have not quite put my metaphorical finger on.

Catch you later.

Hummingbird,

A few years ago I promised to bring my parents Harrods cupcakes, however, I have never delivered on this promise. They were down in London this weekend and following a lovely meal in South Kensington we walked past the branch of the Hummingbird Bakery that is up there, and curiosity killed the diet.

Places like The Hummingbird have achieved such a reputation that I get nothing short of dubious walking through the door because how can live up to that expectation. I'd say I'm like that with writers too. 

One of the things I discuss a lot with my writers' group, and anyone else who looks vaguely interested in books, is obviously popular fiction, what's good about it, what sucks, who's overrated and those who are deadly ignored despite being somewhat geniuses. I find that if someone has told me about a book that they love, it can make me a little bit reluctant to read it purely because I'm expecting a lot out of it. 

When I first read An Abundance of Katherine's I wasn't expecting That. As a novelist/novel lover and part time maths geek it was essentially my idea of heaven in book form. I have never, even been so excited to see footnotes in a book - they have graphs in and everything!!! If I had been more aware of the brilliance of John Green before reading the first few of novels I may not have loved them quite so much, because I would have already been expecting greatness. 

In the same way, (and I will point out again I read this because I was told to!) if I hadn't heard that Fifty Shades of Grey (and everything connected to it) were atrocious I would probably have stopped reading half way through the first chapter whilst I was losing the will to live, but knowing it was bad meant that I could read it and expect that an cope with. Like movies where you need to know that it's not serious before starting. I made that mistake with Dr. Strangelove.

Reputations a big thing, but Hummingbird lived up to theirs. I need sleep. 

Catch you later.

Is It a Science,

Is there a science to writing? Honestly, no, there is not. 

There have been many times over the past few years where I have met some amazing writers and asked them for guidance in this field. Joseph Delaney, the genius behind The Spooks series, told me that the best thing you can do is have patience and practice. Patience isn't something I usually have in abundance, but it is something I try and practice with my writing. Sometimes though, having patience with myself is unhelpful, because it means that I don't do an awful lot sometimes. Thatt was back when I was fourteen. 

I met Nicholas Sparks when I was 19. Obviously by then I had already self-published my first novel and was well into writing a couple more, but I get nervous, even when things are going well, so in the brief moment I had to spreak to him as he Sharpie'd his name into the front of a couple of his masterpeices I asked him for advice. The jist of it was to read the good, the bad, the ugly and everything in between. Seeing what is good and seeing what is bad gives you a pespective, or a scale with which you can work. 

Writing is something that does require practice and patience and n understanding of the good and the bad, but more than anything it requires passion. It requires commitment, and passion and a desire to carry on even if it appears that you are getting nowhere. And it can very often feel that you are getting nowhere. 

Now, I know I am nowhere near the calibre of those two wonders of humanity, but in terms of what I have learnt by myself is that you need to take care of yourself. Now I'm not just talking about needing to feed yourself properly (pizza is not a food group!!) or sleep when you need to and drink eight glasses of water, but that stuff is important. What I'm talking about is sometimes you will feel emotionally raw about things and you need to acknowledge that, and not push it. 

Things have been impossibly difficult recently, and so writing happy endings for my characters can hurt, so I'm having to swap and change between things at the moment. When one thing is too much, flit to something else, and believe me it is hard. I want to finish writing a couple of things and finish editing Yours, but I also know what it feels like to take a nail brush to skinned hands and that is what it can feel like emotionally. Feelings like that you need to listen to. You need to listen and you need accept it, and you need to find the way of dealing with it. For some people, I know, writing about difficult times can help them through it, and that is completely fair enough, but you need to remember, that's not the same for everyone. 

Catch you tomorrow.

Flying,

Just a heads up, this blog is going to have nothing to do with flying what so ever. :) I just couldn't think of a decent title so random word it was.

I've had an intense few days trying to work out the direction that my life is going in, and it's tough to describe the way I'm feeling at the moment. On the one hand, I'm happy to be out of university and be working and doing something, but on the other, I will never have so much time to focus on other things as I did when I was at university. 

My final year I was in 10 hours a week of lectures one term and 6 hours a week the other term. Yes, I had many hours of reading to do aside from that, and assignments and other things, and I had my job as well, but somehow that either didn't take the same level of time or the same level of emotional and physical capacity to deal with as full-time work. I think the monotony of it upsets my brain a little bit. 

The point is that I'm not as free to spend days working on novels and editing and formatting etc. anymore, and it can be quite frustrating, but this weekend has been very productive, and I'm euphoric with that. Working towards a publishing date, but can't set a date yet, because there's still a lot of work to do. Yay. 

So essentially, watch this space.

Hmm,

One of my favourite writers of all time, since the glorious age of 17, has been John Green. I wish I had some big semi-romantic story of how I fell across his books in a small independent book store in the Northern Quarter, and that the movie of The Fault in Our Stars broke my heart because it was, in parts, such a deviation from the book, but that would be an utter falsehood, hocum story. 

I was told to buy Paper Town by a friend of mine named J, who is beautifully obsessed by it. She would have lent me her's, but the idea of letting out of her sight was too much. I understand that more completely than most people do. To her mind, it is the most perfect of John Green's books. Though I enjoyed it immensely, it is not mine. For me, The Fault in Our Stars was like suffering loss at the hands of a paperback, and the only more perfect version of that loss was the very rare occasion where a film is somehow on par with a book. Taking out one almost insignificant character made that film beyond anything I could ever imagine. Who am I kidding, I was a mess before it even started! Still, not my favourite. No book he can write will ever be what An Abundance of Katherines is to me.

I'm currently sat watching Paper Towns, and wondering why they decided to make this book into a flipping movie. I'm over half way through and I'm not as enthralled as I was with the book, however having the actor who played Gus in there even for less than thirty seconds did make me die a little bit on the inside. In a good way. 

My biggest fear now is that they will try and find a way of making An Abundance of Katherines into a movie, but part of me wants to see that. Part of me wants to see the part when the graphs are sketched in chalk across the screen with the film still playing in the background slightly out of focus, I want to see what they make of Katherine the Many. I want to see them bring it to life and tell the story in a whole new way, so I can fall in love with it all over again. But I don't want them to destroy something that made sense to me with so much ease.

I owe a lot to Paper Towns. It was the emotional band aid that made it okay when my life fell apart and I couldn't make it fall back together. Because some people need tears and Malteasers the way I need books. The film, I know, would not have been enough.