Self-publicity, Kindle, blogging, and other embarrassments

Sitting at the Boys' school yesterday, fruitlessly trying to sell tickets for a forthcoming event (yes, I AM that masochist you see sitting in the hallway with a fixed grin and an empty cash-box in front of them), I was chatting with a friend. "Do you still blog?" she asked - more to fill the time than anything else, I suspect. "Yes, I do, actually." "And how's it going?" "Well enough. It keeps me busy, what with my normal blog (The Potty Diaries) and the blog I have over at The Moscow Times."

Mention any newspaper and it seems to pique people's interest. Suddenly, blogging is less of a self-indulgent solitary pleasure and seems more glamorous, for some reason. (For me, too, if I'm honest).

"Really? Do you blog over at The Moscow Times? I was just on their site yesterday - funny, I didn't see you on it."

"Well, I don't blog as myself. Obviously. I use a pen name."

She looked at me suspiciously. "Well, I did see a blog on there by a mum in Moscow, but it wasn't you."

"It was, actually." (I was fairly certain on this point, having just checked the Times blog roll that morning).

"No, no. She had another name. I can't quite remember it now..."

"It was me, really. I use the name Clare Taylor on there."

"Was that it...? She wrote a post about politeness, or something. And having been in London this weekend. Oh my god - you were in London this weekend! It WAS you! I can see it now..."

It's interesting, being caught up in a situation like that. Within my circle of friends in Moscow, I don't hugely publicise the fact that I blog here at The Potty Diaries, but I'm happy to mention what I do for The Moscow Times, since what I write there is even less reflective of our family life than what I write here. Since I've never been very good at self-pr, however, I don't even mention that very often.

If someone asks me what I do with my time (other than being a mum - which as we all know leaves us with endless hours in which we do nothing but sit around chatting, drinking coffee and eating chocolate, with the odd flower-arranging class thrown in for good measure) my answer usually involves mumbled references to blogs, writing for other sites, proof-reading, writing for myself and sometimes - sometimes - The Moscow Times.

But, having been inspired by Emily over at More Than Just a Mother to sell this blog on Kindle (it will be an interesting experiment, if not anything else), I need to start publicising that fact. Imagine, then, the following paragraph as being written through metaphorical gritted teeth;

I've just put my blog up for sale on Kindle. I know that if you read it here, the chances of your wanting to pay the princely sum of £0.99 a month to do so on your Kindle reader are slim - and I wouldn't expect, or indeed want, any different. However, if you are inclined to at least take a look, I would be very appreciative of some positive review comments on Amazon.

There. That wasn't so hard, was it PM?

*PM pulls her head out of her hands and, blushing furiously, slinks out of the door...*

Gone Writing...

A while back I posted about starting to write a book. It's been a little 'stop/go' since then, if I'm honest. After an inital burst of enthusiasm, and a lot of thinking, Real Life started to get in the way and it's only now - that an event here in Moscow which I was doing some work for is done and dusted - that I've actually sat down and started to have a proper go at My Masterpiece.

It's such an interesting process. I should come clean here, and say that I haven't had 'The Big Idea' burning away on the back of the stove for years now. There was no blinding flash of inspiration where I sat up in bed in the middle of the night and shouted 'Eureka! I've got it!', no, nothing that impressive.

When I started writing I knew only two things, in fact. I knew what the location for the opening page of the book would be, and based on a fascinating piece of family history that a friend shared with me about a few months ago, I had an inkling that it would involve a search of some kind. And that was it. That was all I had to go on.

If I'm honest, I thought this book would be about me, or someone like me. Some slightly more mature version of chick-lit perhaps; lighter on the bags and shoes than some of the offerings out there, heavier on the international travel (so far, so Potski Mumski), but essentially something that I knew.

Imagine my surprise then, when I started tapping away and discovered this book - my book - is not about me at all. How very dare my subconscious?!! My protaganist jumped from my fingers straight onto the keys, almost fully formed. I know his name (for yes, it's a guy - go figure!), I know what he looks like, I know his shortcomings, I know what stage of life he's at. I know his family, I know his girlfriend. Hell, I can even visualise the colour of his rucksack and the scuffs on his shoes.

And I know he's at a crossroads and that there is something which must be resolved before he decides which route to take. I even have a fair idea of how he's going to get there.

And the more I write, the clearer this all becomes to me. It's incredible - and I love doing it.

Whether this work of art (for which read amateur drivel) will ever see the light of day anywhere other than on my laptop is questionable. And it's all taking rather longer to get going than I thought it would. Seventy thousand is a LOT of words, people. A lot. And I'm nowhere near that total yet, mainly because I can't stop myself re-reading and then editing the previous days' work before I start on the next, but I'm hoping I'll move on from what is probably a classic beginner's mistake shortly and just write more fluidly.

In the meantime, though, please excuse me if I am a little distracted...

So it seems this 'life' thing requires application...

Is there anything more depressing that waiting for feedback? Scratch that, actually; I know there are. I just can't bring myself to write about those things right now, hence the long and unaccustomed absence from BlogLand on my part.

I will be back, I promise. It's just that right now I'm tied up in this 'developing a life off-line' business, and unsurprisingly it's keeping me rather busy. In the meantime though, if you are missing my particular brand of nonsense, check out this post on Powder Room Graffiti that went up today.

(I should just add; the fantasy court-case described on PRG no way bears any resemblance to the home life of our own dear potty. None at all, your honour...)