Oyez! Oyez!

The first full week of 2014 is over. It’s time to take stock, reassess, readjust, and all that other stuff. It’s time to take a long, hard look at my beloved ‘Clockwatching…’ and see just what we can do to make it a better place to hang out, for everyone who makes use of it.

Image: smallbusinessbc.ca

Writing this blog is one of my very favourite things in life, but the start of a new year is a good time to think about whether it’s become too stale and/or boring for those kind people – i.e. you – who like to drop in here from time to time. Out of all the blogs in all the world, I’m honoured that you’d wander into mine; of course, I’d also like to entice you to stay, by offering you all manner of wonders and making this online journal of mine a fun, interesting and enjoyable place to be. To that end, I would very much like to ask for the assistance of my kind, generous and wonderful readers (hi, Mum!) in order to determine the future direction of this ‘ere blog. Can you spare a few moments to give a girl a helping hand?

Mainly, I’m worried that blogging every day, as I have done (with the exception of Sundays, ‘Acts of God’, illness, and holiday periods) since August of 2012 is a bit much. Not for me – words are at the core of my being – but for you, gentle reader. For everyone who enjoys reading these little excursions into the deepest recesses of my brain every day, I’m sure there are ten who roll their eyes and say: ‘Not again. Doesn’t that woman have anything better to do?‘ when another blog-notification pings into their inbox. (Answer: Not really.)

So.

Question One: Should I continue to update ‘Clockwatching…’ on a daily basis? If yes, wonderful. If not, how often would you prefer me to post?

a) thrice weekly

b) twice weekly

c) weekly

d) never

Image: blogs.edweek.org

The second thing that keeps your intrepid correspondent awake at night – and goodness knows, I need my beauty sleep – has to do with the content of my posts. As anyone who drops in regularly here will be aware, I like to read, and I like to write. I like to (sometimes) get on soapboxes about such things as women’s issues, feminism, equality, politics (albeit rarely), environmentalism, consumerism, and a whole lot of other ‘isms’. Mostly, though, I write about the written word, my journey as an aspiring author, and the love I have for books – both reading and writing them.

Is this the kind of thing you want to read, though?

Nobody wants to write a blog which doesn’t engage its readers. Nobody wants to feel like a reader is bored, because – essentially – that means the reader is entirely within their rights to click away, toward something which interests them. I’d like to think that I’m giving my readers something worth reading, as well as something they enjoy, and would like to see more of. But if I am not, I would very much like to know.

Question Two: Are you, as a reader of ‘Clockwatching…’, happy with the blog’s content?

a) Yes

b) No

c) Artichokes?

d) Sometimes

If you have any suggestions for future topics – the only caveat being that they are suitable for a general readership, in terms of age-appropriateness – I’d certainly be interested to hear ’em. If you’ve always wanted to know my take on the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow, or why exactly God gave rock and roll to us, or why everyone keeps using the word ‘inconceivable’, now’s your chance to let me know. I’d really love to know the issues that interest the readers of this wee blog. If y’all would rather I wittered on about the nocturnal habits of the aardvark, do let me know. I’ll do my best to accommodate any reasonable request, and even some of the unreasonable ones.

I also have a certain ‘rhythm’ going in terms of the type of post I put up; every Wednesday is a Write-In, every Saturday is a book review, most Mondays are a disjointed babble because my brain isn’t quite switched on yet, certain Fridays are devoted to flash fiction, and so on – does that suit everyone? I, personally, enjoy my Book Review Saturdays, but if they make everyone else grind their teeth in frustration then – of course – I’d like to know. If you’d prefer me not to post my Wednesday Write-In stories to the blog, I’d like to know, too.

Question Three: Should I keep Wednesday Write-In and Book Review Saturday?

a) Yes to Wednesday, No to Saturday

b) No to Wednesday, Yes to Saturday

c) Yes to both

d) No to both

e) Where did I leave my dentures?

I have no idea what’s going on here.
Image: theweek.co.uk

Right.

I think that’s about all the pressing issues I have with relation to the blog. I’d like to take another opportunity to thank all those who do read and comment regularly, and who give me vital feedback – whether it’s in person, over the phone, via my personal Facebook page, or via the blog, here – on how I’m doing. I hope you won’t mind my asking for a little extra help in my effort to make this blog the best it can be.

I’m looking forward to hearing your ideas, and to diving into 2014 with no small amount of enthusiasm.

And the appropriate water safety equipment, of course.

Please feel free to comment! All feedback very, very gratefully received.

 

2013 In Review (Well, *My* 2013, at least)

So, apparently this is a thing.

Every New Year, WordPress compiles a report of how your blog fared during the previous twelve months, and it allows you to make it public if you so desire. Last year, my blog was only barely toddling about on wobbly, dimpled little legs and so there was nothing interesting to read in its ‘annual’ (read: ‘three-month’) report; this year, however, things are a little cooler.

So, I’ve made it public, and you can find it below.

It may interest nobody but me, but no matter. Here it is. Happy New Year to anyone whose eyes have glanced – even if only by accident – upon the slightly unhinged pages of this blog, and my sincerest wish for you all is that 2014 turns out to be a wonderful year, in every imaginable way.

Happy New Year, and thank you for helping me make this blog so much fun.

Image: eatwatchrun.com

“The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2013 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 12,000 times in 2013. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 4 sold-out performances for that many people to see it…”

Click here to see the complete report.

A Milestone Note, and a Book Review

Good morning!

So, this morning I awoke to find that my blog had ticked over the 10,000 hit mark while I slept. Also, I’d gained a few new followers on Twitter, bringing me to over 600.

Image: last.fm

Of course, I am aware that Twitter is a nebulous and quicksilver thing, wherein you lose followers as quickly as you gain them (more quickly, in some cases); I’m pleased to have reached another milestone, all the same. I’m happier, though, to know that my blog has had north of 10,000 hits since it first came online last August, and for that I have nobody but you guys – my lovely readers – to thank.

Image: gulfshoressteven.wordpress.com

It’s amazing to think how frightened I was of beginning this blog. I was excited and happy about it, too, but mainly I was terrified. I could never have imagined how much happiness it has brought me, and how useful it has been, in so many ways. Thank you to everyone who’s helped it, and me, to go from strength to strength.

And now, as I am wont to do on Saturdays, shall we have a little book review? Let’s.

I’ve been wondering whether or not to do a review of the following book. I wondered if I was brave enough. Then, of course, I woke up and saw all the wonderful milestone-y stuff I mentioned above, and realised: Yes. I can do this. For this book, friends, is the one I mentioned a few posts ago, the one which took as its core concept an idea which I had also had, many years ago, and hadn’t been clever enough to put out into the world.

That book is ‘Crewel’, by Gennifer Albin.

Image: wordchasing.com

I’ll say at the outset that I liked this book, but there were some problems with it. The idea at its heart – that the whole world (Arras) can be ‘woven’, the threads of its matter and time manipulated as though they were fabric being woven on a loom – is the idea I also had, many years ago, and had started writing a story about. The world I’d imagined differed vastly from the one Albin imagines here, and it was fascinating for me to see where she took the idea. Her world is one in which the sexes are segregated until the late teens, at which time most people are expected to marry (without any real ‘courtship’ or any sort of gentle introduction to adult life), where there are particular jobs for men and women (I don’t need to tell you which gender gets short shrift!), where women have to conform to both purity and aesthetic standards, and life in general is very circumscribed.

Then, there are women like Adelice Lewys, Albin’s protagonist. Adelice is a girl who is gifted with the ability to see the weave, and to manipulate it. She has been coached all her life by her parents to hide this ability, because they do not want her to be taken away and trained as a Spinster (the name given to a girl or woman with this ability to see the weave), never to come home to them again. The life of a Spinster is painted as a good one, full of comfort, luxury and freedom – most girls strive for it – but, of course, it’s not as straightforward as that. Adelice messes up her test, passes it by mistake, and gets abducted in the middle of the night. She gets taken to the Coventry, the training ground for future Spinsters, and thrust straight into the intrigue at the heart of her world.

There’s lots to like about this book. I loved the title, for a start – a play on the word ‘cruel’, and a reference to a type of weaving technique (crewelling). I liked Adelice, I liked her family – especially her bubble-headed, lovable, cutely childish sister Amie – and I liked the idea of the Coventry (or ‘Coventries’, as there are four of them), a cross between a convent, as Spinsters are expected to be (officially) celibate, and a quasi-military command centre. I (obviously) love the central idea of the matter of a world being woven, and the weaver having ultimate control over the ‘threads’ of life, able to rip people out of the pattern if they misbehave, or weave in new life wherever they wish. I enjoyed the way Albin uses this idea to examine notions of power, freedom and cruelty, and how easy it can be for those in power to misuse that power.

I liked, also, that she explored ideas of ‘otherness’ – there are a pair of instructors in Adelice’s Coventry who have an unconventional and (in this world) illegal relationship. One of them is ‘remapped’, or has her memory and personality wiped, in order to quell her feelings for her partner, which leads to heartache and horror. The relationships between the girls in the Coventry is interesting; we see bullying and cliques forming, and we notice how easy it is for people who are disenfranchised to start turning on one another, exerting whatever control they can within the straitened reality of their lives. One of these characters, Pryana, is a little too simplistic for my liking; some of her actions and thought processes seem completely irrational and silly, and that annoyed me. But, perhaps there are women like her in institutions like the Coventry, with minds driven mad by fear and a desire to please, and the need to survive.

Now, for the things I didn’t enjoy so much. Firstly, the idea of Adelice’s kidnapping in the middle of the night, and the damage done to her family in the attempt to extract her. If being a Spinster is such a prestigious thing, and every family in the world wants their daughter to have this life of privilege, why do they come in the middle of the night to abduct the girls and bring them to the Coventries? I thought that was strange. I also found Albin’s descriptions of the weave, and the ways in which the Spinsters can manipulate it, very hard to imagine – and I’m speaking as a person who spent years visualising a very similar world! I understand the concept she’s using, and I get the idea of people and buildings and places and lives being akin to threads, vulnerable and prone to damage or ‘ripping’ by a Spinster, and totally under the control of the one who weaves; but in that case, how do Adelice’s parents harbour rebellious thoughts? How does anyone, if they’re all being ‘woven’, including their thought processes and minds? Perhaps this will be explained in a future book. I also found the end of the book confusing and hard to visualise; it also felt ‘rushed’ and a little too convenient.

I’m not even going to start on the love triangle between Adelice, Jost and Erik, and the relationship between the two boys (which I saw coming a mile off); that whole thing really irritated me. I felt it was unnecessary – unless, of course, it’s going to become a vital plot thread (no pun intended) in a future book in the series. Please, YA authors – enough with the love triangles, the instant attraction, the floppy fringes and the lopsided grins. Please?

So, overall, I’d recommend ‘Crewel’ as a good read. It’s quick and enjoyable and interesting, and sets itself up well for its sequel. It’s not perfect, but then what book is?

That’s a good question, actually. Is there such a thing as a perfect book?

Tune in next week to find out… Happy weekend, everyone!

Appreciation

I don’t have a lot of time to write today, either – and it’s possible this will be my last blog of the week.  Where I’m going (i.e. the deepest, darkest countryside!), they don’t have a reliable internet connection…

I wanted to devote this short note to saying ‘thank you’ to everyone who has taken the time over the past month or so to check in here and keep me company.  Last night, this blog ticked over into the 2,000s – in other words, more than 2,000 people have looked at it since I set it up just about five weeks ago.  I can see that a lot of my readers come from Australia and Canada, several in the United States, India, Pakistan, Korea – even Hong Kong! I’ve had people reading me in Switzerland, Belgium and – of course – my ‘home islands’, the United Kingdom, and my own beloved Ireland.  When I started this venture, I thought maybe my mother and my mother-in-law, along with some of my stalwart friends, would occasionally take a look at this blog, but that for the most part I’d be talking into a void.  Instead, I’ve ‘met’ wonderful people from all over the globe, and I’ve had the privilege of taking a peek into their lives and journeys via their own blogs, and it has been an exhilarating experience.

 
I don’t ordinarily count myself among those who think that technology is an indispensable part of modern life – usually, I fear we’ve lost something intimate and kind in this digital, screened age in which we live.  It makes me sad to see people preferring to look at their tablet than the real world, and it really makes me sad to see people texting, or otherwise using their ‘smart’phones, instead of engaging with another person.  In relation to this blog, however, I’m willing to admit my initial misgivings were far wide of the mark – you might remember one of my earliest blogs discussed my fears and insecurities around blogging.  I now know that writing here, gaining regular readers, commenters and friends, has been one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever been able to do.  Some of the kindest and most supportive feedback I’ve had on this blog has come from people who don’t know me, in the traditional sense, and for whom I’m just a collection of blobs on a website.  I truly couldn’t have imagined that so many people would want to read what I have to say, and I hope that my posts here will continue to be interesting.  I hope that, over the next few months, I’ll have lots to blog about, and it would be brilliant to have you all along for the journey.

Thank you all, most sincerely.  I’m just an ordinary gal, trying to do her best, and it’s so good to know I’m not the only one out there.  Have some flowers, and Happy Thursday!