Not a Mexican Wave so much as a Melbourne one…

March 16, 2010 at 11:06 am (Uncategorized)

It’s been a big few days, my dears, a full-scale assault, an armed re-entry back into manuscript #1. I’m taking no prisoners. I couldn’t wait until the Darkling writing retreat in the end. I cracked, picking it up for the first time in six months last Thursday. As you can see, it’s done terrible things to my blogging, and here it is 9:40 at night and still I’ve left DoctorDi entirely unattended. I guess I just don’t know where to start.

I think I’m going to have to sleep on it and start fresh in the morning. I’m feeling pretty shell-shocked, what with all the heavy artillery fire (I promise to abandon this military analogy at the very first available opportunity, it’s just too compelling right this second, as all I really feel like yelling is, “I’m hit! I’m hit!”).

The Darkling retreat was great, very short but very sweet. We had a night and a full day in Melbourne, which I loved, and then two more nights down at Airey’s Inlet, brilliant AGAIN, although we were sadly sans the Changeling down the coast. She sped off out of Melbourne like a bat out of hell, even as I was still standing by the side of the road trying my level best to detain her. I deployed my favourite technique: the never-ending wave. This strategy doesn’t actually work, but I’ve never let a lack of success deter me or even dampen my enthusiasm. Hence my on-going writing career. In fact, as far as my waving goes, people often seem in much more of a hurry to get away from me once I start my manic signature moves, but every now and again, someone is so stupefied by my Big Two Hander that I get a few more minutes out of them while they’re clumsily trying to reverse down the street.

But Jenny’s an old hand by now: she knows exactly how to duck and weave so that she escapes the death grip of my long plastic fantastic embrace, and then she’s away, despite my tireless efforts to hypnotise her with the Triple Kahuna. Sigh. Anyway, point is, we missed her.

More tomorrow. Much, much more.



  1. Grad said,

    Well, we’ve found you at last. I was just organizing a search party. Awaiting news!

    • doctordi said,

      Yes, sorry about that, Graddikins. Brace yourself for another military reference: I was temporarily MIA!

  2. Jenny said,

    I missed you too Di. Look forward to an account of Aireys on this blog.
    Many thanks for a wonderful night in Melbourne.
    The Changeling

    • doctordi said,

      I’ll have to tell you about the caravan man… my Airey’s Inlet post was getting quite long, but perhaps tomorrow…

  3. Norwichrocks said,

    Loving the mental picture of the infinite hand waves… 🙂

    • doctordi said,

      You’d think it would do something to firm up the ‘ole bingo wings, but no luck so far…

  4. kate4samh said,

    Just wondering, what do your fellow Darlings call you?

    • doctordi said,

      Um, Di. After Varuna, where we all first met, I wrote a little piece about one of the conversations we’d had as something for us all to have as a kind of keepsake of the week, and in that I was ‘the Hybrid,’ but that’s not really appropriate anymore, whereas Jenny really IS a changeling!

  5. kate4samh said,

    Ah, I meant Darklings!

  6. Lilian Nattel said,

    You’re engrossed in writing–wonderful!

  7. Pete said,

    My blog reader just presented with me 200 of your latest posts and the top of the pile was from September 19th 2007, which was your 35th birthday. I was very confused since I was wondering how you and Litlove could have the same birthday and yet you had gone backwards in age. But am happily back in the present now. Bad blogreader.

    Also glad to hear you had a fab retreat and that you’re tackling the MS with such vigour. Your description of the eternal handwave was very funny.

  8. doctordi said,

    200 of my latest posts?! My, my, haven’t I been productive?! That’s really funny, Pete. Sounds like your blogreader has had some kind of nervous breakdown. I can relate.

    You should see the wave in action. It’s spectacular.

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