#WW & National Poetry Day

Yesterday was #WW day on twitter and today is National Poetry Day in the UK, so I figured that I’d post once and kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. I wouldn’t really go out and kill two birds with one stone. My aim isn’t that good.

If you read my previous post on Follow Friday, then you probably have at least a guess of what the #WW tag may be referring to. #WW stands for Writer Wednesday. It’s something that the writing community on twitter like to use to help writers connect with writers.

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I read this recently ‘playing a major roll in the plot’. I shan’t say where it came from or who wrote it except that it was a published author and that it really did annoy me. I realise that published authors are allowed to make mistakes etc too, but I do get annoyed when I see bad spelling and grammar when I know, from researching literary agents, that quite a few of them will pretty much throw away your query if you so much as miss an apostrophe (I did this recently in my haste and I was kicking myself in the teeth when I realised because I knew what kind of impact it would have). So yes, I do get severely wound up when I see published agents who don’t vet their things as thoroughly as the rest of us are supposed to in order to get just a crack at the industry.

And, if you’re asking your self what’s wrong with the little quote I put in, then I am utterly disappointed in you. Roll is right, of course, but not in this context. In this context, the writer meant ‘role’. Surely you should be writing about the roles of your characters enough to get it mixed up, but not that way around! Recently I’ve had cause to write ‘write’ quite a lot and on occasion I’ve had to backspace where I’ve written it in place of ‘right’. The point is, I backspaced. I make sure that what I’ve written is correct. It would be wrong of me not to check what I’m doing when I criticise others for bad spelling and grammar!

Another pet hate is when I see those irritating people who call themselves Grammar Nazis but go ahead and completely misspell grammar. I know that you can blame misspellings on accent, these days, but I have a pretty thick North Yorkshire accent and I don’t misspell it (yes, that’s right. I’m one of those terrible British people – I like queuing and have a penchant for tea… though we just call it a brew in these here parts). I don’t say grammar as it’s spelt. To me, it’s ‘grahmuh’. I bet you’re saying that to yourself now and wondering how anyone understands me. I could go on for ages about my accent. I sometimes have fun sounding it out and writing it down like I would as proper dialogue. In fact, I shall write you a short passage in my accent and if you really want, you can see if you can decipher it and/or say it.

Ah dunno wha’ t’ talk t’ yuh abou’ nouwh. Really ahd lika brhoo bu’ me dad’s inh t’ kitchin faffin’ abouwh whi’ all th’ pots eh’setra. Cuhkin’ annoys ‘im ratha a lorh’. Ennywayh, I ‘ope y’enjoyed yurh lessun in speakhin’ whi’ a Yhawshur acsin’.

Other things that annoy me are the your and you’re problem people on the ‘net seem to be having.

Your = belonging to you
You’re = you are

For example: Your going to the shops.


Why is it wrong? Because unless you own ‘going’ then the sentence MAKES NO SENSE! And we all know that sentences are supposed to make sense.

What it should be: You’re going to the shops.

And why should it be this? Because you are going to the shops. Suddenly the sentence somehow makes sense, right?

One more example, Those are you’re shoes.

Unless you are a pair of shoes, this sentence IS INCREDIBLY WRONG! If you read it, replacing the apostrophe with the letter you’ve taken out, it says: Those are you are shoes. Now how on Earth does that make any sense?

What it should be: Those are your shoes.


I hate how people get than and then mixed up, too, which seems to be happening an awful lot lately. Than = a comparison word. So when you say something is greater or less than something else. Then = what happens next. Then I did this or that. They’re both different.

Also were, where and we’re. I can maybe understand why were and we’re get mixed up because they’re pretty similar looking, bar the apostrophe, but where? How can you get where mixed up in this? Were = the past tense of are. If you are going to do something and you change your mind then you were going to do it. We’re = we are or we were. So if we’re going to the park it means that we are or we were going to the park. All this is simply enough. Then we get to where. Where = a place that you have put something. So the dentist is where a crazy guy with a drill looks in your mouth.

I hope that makes everything clear. I’m getting enraged with people who get these simple things wrong. If you can’t form a correctly spelled, punctuated and grammatically right sentence… then please either don’t speak to me or go back to school. You’ll drive me mad, otherwise. 

A Human Being & Not An Object

I would like to start this journal entry with something that is utterly profound and considered thorough genius… but I can’t because I am neither of these things.
I’m having a weird evening. The bus actually picked me up some time near when it was supposed to, for one thing. Yesterday, it was far too early (because I was there early) and I had to wait a whole hour for the stupid thing to turn up. Standing outside in the freezing cold (at least it didn’t snow on me again for the entire hour) in a godforsaken village with no means of getting home except via bus… was not what I’d had in mind for my evening. Of course, I’d had to go into town as well (instead of catching the mile earlier stop near my house). That evening got more bizarre when I decided to get something to eat from the takeaway and the guy tried to chat me up. Maybe it’s just where I live, but all of the guys in the takeaways try to chat you up. It really annoys me and puts me on edge. I can’t deal with being chatted up. This wall comes down and I back away. I think that’s part of the reason why I keep getting so annoyed with the random guys who send messages on myspace. My picture on there may be nice… but what right does that give you to call me ‘babe’ and act like a total knob head whilst trying to get me to agree to speak to you? None is the correct answer. Such guys receive no reply because if I gave one it would be something snarky and I don’t want to ruin any of my day by being snarky to losers who can’t use standard English or figure out that I am a human being and not an object.
Anyway, I got home and had to tidy around a bit because my brother is clearly useless and doesn’t know what mess is. He also seems incapable of turning his music down and letting the dog out in the back garden when he gets in. It’s not much to ask, is it? So I laid down on the sofa and had a nap until my mum came in – it’s pointless trying to nap in my room because all I can hear is my brother’s music (asking him to turn it down results in a pathetic, abusive tantrum that seventeen year olds should not be having at that age). When my mum came in, she woke me up. I’m not even sure what it was that made me as angry as I was when I woke. If I’m honest, I was probably dreaming something that irritated me. So I came upstairs after having a mini argument and went back to sleep. This means I have yet to eat my dinner and it’s nearly 11pm. I’ll do it soon, but yeah… Such has been my night.

Something I would like to scream at my brother: The damn earphones are so we don’t have to hear your goddamn music blaring above everything else! Turn the bloody volume down!

Can you tell that he’s doing a stellar job of winding me up? Sometimes I wonder why I even bother in regards to him. He doesn’t appreciate anyone but himself. It’s a case of narcissism that I don’t think he’ll ever get over. Shame really. I mean the only other person he sort of cared about was his ex. And I think what she did was cruel. I’ve been in his position and it’s horrible, but the one thing that is making it worse is that her mother is getting herself involved, as thus illustrated (you may have to click the image to see it in full):

Maybe I’ve been a bit harsh, but honestly I don’t think you should get involved in your children’s relationships. The girl is 15 now. She should be learning to stand on her own two feet, especially as she seems to think that she’s so grown up. Anyway, I’ll say no more because I’m not getting involved. I know what she’s put my brother through and got him to do in his stupidity so there’s no point in my saying anything else. Her mother just needs a reality check.
Oh… And by the way, my brother’s ex since deleted me as a friend and then deleted the comment. If you can’t take good advice then don’t attempt to dish bad advice out.
I’m glad it’s the weekend. TGIF and all of that jazz. I might be able to get some more editing done this weekend. We’ve finished our block of placement, though we are in next Wednesday again. It’s been really good, but I am really quite exhausted at the minute (hence the dreadful sleeping in the day). It has, however, made me feel more like I can do this and that I’m not just blundering through life blindfold, which is the sort of feeling that I had before. Every now and again, I have a little panic and think I’m a failure, so it’s nice when I get to the confidence patch.
Hopefully this confidence will infuse into my writing some more, too. I hope to finish at least another chapter of editing by the end of the weekend. Whether this will be achieved or not is debatable. I’ll keep you posted on progress, though.
Also, there are two days left to vote on the poll. If the tie break isn’t broken I may put up another poll with the two results as options. We’ll see, then, which is the more popular title. My bet is on plain old Secrets but I could very well be wrong.

A Man Slave Is Not Just For Christmas

I need a man slave. Not for my personal enjoyment (I seem to go for slightly geeky but cute boys instead of muscular guys) you understand. I just need somebody to sort stuff out for me when I really haven’t the time or the inclination. It would help me to spend more time writing, as well. Right now there are tonnes of things I need to do and I don’t think I’m going to have enough time. Oh well. I must struggle valiantly on ‘knock-kneed like beggars under sacks’.

I do have to get this lesson plan done, though. And if it doesn’t get done, I’ll be pissed off. What I need is lots of water to keep my brain going… or a man slave so that the errands I needed to run would have been done hours ago whilst I was typing up all the things I needed. And then this imaginary man slave could bring me food and drink to sustain me. Furthermore, I would have more time to sleep. Man slave could also sort out whatever he needed to sort out whilst I slept. Why am I even talking about a man slave? I’ll never have one. I suppose he’d prefer to call himself my PA anyway… which isn’t as much fun as ‘man slave’.
Quick poll update: Two of the results are tied so please keep providing your votes as there are only 3 days left.
Tomorrow night, when I get in, I will sleep and then I will have a lovely shower to make me feel so much better. My mind is just wandering far too much at the moment. Must concentrate on this and then sleep.