The stem man felt the house

rain, heavy rain, torrential rain. temps 20

Well, we're building an ark. Sadly for mankind I'm menopausal so that's it for the species.

Cannot believe the amount of rain. Still, have to say, while I'd prefer a hot and sunny summer I don't think I'm one of those people severely affected by the weather. Perhaps because I spend so much time in the bath anyway, this is just another variety of wet.

yesterday - miracle alert! - was actually not rainy. perfect for the MORE Magazine photo shoot. the 4 of them arrived about 10am and left at 4pm - having done 3 set ups. One on the island in the pond, by a set of iron gates we have there, another in the living room, by my laptop (the requisite author-at-work) and for the last - my favorite by far - they took out a big, comfortable, oversized armchair, a rug, a stack of books, and plunked them all in the garden by a dry stone wall. So I sat there, holding a book, and looking as though this was how we normally live. With living room furniture littered about the garden. it was very fun and playful and I felt most comfortable. In the others, despite the friendliness of the photographic team, I felt like a waxwork statue.

But it was fun to be fussed over (as opposed to the normal, oppressive life I lead). A woman did my hair and make up, then a guy did 'wardrobe' - all Armani! At one stage I had my arm slung rakishly over the back of a bent twig chair on the island and the stylist whispered to me to try not to rub the arm of the jacket. later, when I took it off, I noticed the price tag. 3,875 dollars. Dear God, some madman entrusted me with probably 10,000 dollars worth of clothing. Clearly they haven't read the blog, and had no idea until that moment I was a woman more at home with duck poop and rubber boots than designer labels. Still, there were no mishaps.

But it was exhausting. No stops for lunch - though dear Michael ran into town to pick up great sandwiches from the bakery. And it really is work. 'Please move your little finger', 'please unclench your left hand' 'please smile' 'please don't smile'...look moody...look thoughtful. Look natural.

I've long thought those hollywood types were unbelievably spoiled. All they do all day is swan around having their photos taken for Vanity Fair etc, or going on tour to promote their latest film. Well, let me tell you - it really is exhausting.

Not, it must be admitted, nearly as exhausting as almost any other job in the world - but way more tiring and way harder than it appears. But I'm not really a natural at this sort of thing. Quite stressful for me, and stress for that long takes it out of you.

Today I edited for much of the day, had a bath, Susan came over and we watched Phil and kirsty do Location, Location, Location, then we went off to get the organic vegetable from the farm. Susan cooked us a fabulous dinner at the guest cottage - and now we're home.

We've decided that I should go to the Wolfe Island literary festival on my own this weekend and Michael should stay home and watch the dogs. Poor guy gets dragged all over the place and we're both a little weary, so this will be a nice, quiet time for him.

We finished doing the proofs for the US version of book 4 today. A RULE AGAINST MURDER. Shocking, really, how many typos we're still finding. In one sentence 'a stern face' became 'a stem face'. In another 'he left the house' became ' he felt the house'. I wonder if a dyslexic is doing the type-setting. Hope not. Though there is a certain poetic quality about it.

Off to bed. Sleep well.

A real lift

Sunny, very warm, highs 22

Hi there...as you can see I've FINALLY figured out how to put up a picture. A few months ago a kind reader gave me instructions, which I forgot. But now, voila, here is a pciture I took this morning. It's from the bench. This is where I stand each morning and think of how lucky I am, and say my thanks. And this is where Michael and I sit every day when we walk Maggie and Trudy. There's the pond in the foreground and our home in the distance.

Poor Trudy. She's still at the vet. Was operated on this morning to be fixed but she was so close to her 'heat' the vet needed to put in extra stitches and wants to keep her overnight to make sure she's ok. He says she's fine. She's very healthy. I'll put up a picture of her on our dock tomorrow.

Getting dressed this morning I was again reminded how great our trip to Boston was. One of the highlights, and I'm not being fascetious, was buying reeeally good bras from a place in the Copley Square, called Intimates. The owner was the one on Oprah. Well, they set me up with a couple of great ones. What a difference it makes! That bulge I'd been worrying about around my mid-section, and was dieting to get rid of? Turns out those were my breasts. Now, my pants fit a whole lot better, as do my bras, though I do feel a bit like a Trojan each morning, anticipating battle.

Had a great day today. Every Tuesday we go to a place called The Station in Cowansville for breakfast, which we did this morning. Then we ran around doing chores. Made an appointment for this afternoon to take Michael's car to Denis to change the winter tires.

I took about 100 pages of the US proofs for A RULE AGAINST MURDER to the station to pass the time. Sat in Denis's service station sniffing gasoline and doing the edits while he changed the tires. Really, between the gasoline, which destroys brain cells, and the edit proofs which are soul destroying it's amazing I didn't evaporate completely, leaving behind just a really fabulous underwire bra.

Proofs are a very interesting part of the process. They come after the editors and the writer have done all the actual 'content' editing, and are meant (from what I understand) to be mostly grammatical, factual, sometimes to do with continuity (if a character is wearing red on one page they should still be in red on the next - that sort of thing.)

Very useful, very necessary - very upsetting. As a writer it reads like a dense, endless complaint. And turns a book I adored into what seems like crap. I love the editing process - discussing character, themes, continuity, plot - really hashing it out with these brilliant editors I have in New York and London. But this just seems picky. And no one else can go through it, except me. Can't delegate, though I'd have been happy to give it to Denis and have a go at the tires.

Still, at one point as Denis's compressor was shrieking I looked up from A RULE AGAINST MURDER and thought how perfect my life really is. Flawed, clearly. Too many comma's, it seems and not enough semi-colons. But pretty damn good.

As you can see by the picture. To live in that place, with a man I not only love but respect, with friends and family, writing my fifth book and editing my fourth. My great good fortune follows me, even into the gas station.

Denis changed all the tires and charged me 15 dollars. Can you believe it? Perhaps crass to mention money, and breasts, in the same post - but can't help but think Denis is just a nice man. And that's one way he shows it.

I'm off - will pick up Trudy as early as we can tomorrow morning, then back to Three Pines and book 5. Hope you're all enjoying yourselves.