The hunt for the one | I love you, You love me not. (Me and the literary agent)

I've done it again. I've fallen head over heels for an agent. A literary agent.

I've done it before, numerous times, and here I am, having ruddy done it again.

You see, as a writer, and aspiring novelist, picking a literary agent who you wish to represent you, and your work is no easy thing. You don't want any Tom, Dick, or Harry-ette. You're looking for the one. The one who you'll spend a career with. And so, in my case, I do my research (which, of course, is a nicer way of saying I stalk them online). I work to find out if we could be a good fit. Do they like what I have to offer? Are they in to New-adult? Do they like Fantasy? I read their wishlists, their Blog posts, and interviews, I look into those they currently represent... and then it happens, I try and fight it, but it just happens. I fall.

I fall head over heels. And so, I lop off the piece of my heart I've been working on (that being my manuscript), I compose a cover letter for it, and just before I submit (with sweat prickling out of my armpits, my palms becoming clammy, and my breaths heavy), doubt creeps in, and I decide to go over everything all over again.

 Surely the won't want me. Maybe I should wait another week, read through my work all over again, and then submit.

But then, another ten weeks go by, and enough. I'm being ridiculous. How long am I going to keep putting this off. Even my doubt is laughing at me. It didn't expect to have me going for this long. And so I march over to the laptop. I'm going to do it, I say. Today's the day. I'M DOING IT.

 My fingers hover over the send button, my heart thumps, fighting to break out of my chest as if it wishes to avoid bearing witness to this car crash. And then...click. I've done it. I've submitted that email, knowing it'll turn up in their mailbox as an attachment Word file (unless of course its preferred that I just paste it into the body of the email.). Then I wait. I wait, and the unrequited love grows.

It starts off slow - I mean, I've been hurt before, you know how it is. I've been turned down, either by being blatantly ignored, or by being given those painful, soul-crushing lines that include, thank you, or many thanks, for sending me "blah blah blah" but unfortunately, or, regretfully, or I'm afraid... And right there and then, it dies. What could have been dies, and I'm left reaching for the pot of ice cream (although it's frozen  yoghurt these days, I'm trying to be a bit more healthier.) and a glass of sparkling wine,

You see, in my world, for those 6-8 weeks (often times more) I've been waiting for this agent's acknowledgement, and or response, with butterflies, and as I stumble upon more of their clients and posts, and words of wisdom and advice, my love for them swells.

Oh my gosh, they just said their reading through their slush pile in this tweet. ... Maybe they'll mention me in a tweet. ... Oh, no, they've just mentioned people not following the submission guidelines in this tweet. Is that me? Did I not follow their guidelines properly. Is our relationships doomed? Is it heading for the rocks? Are we on the rocks? Have I not even the impact to face the rocks?

And then it comes. The email. The response...

Thank you... but... .unfortunately... not suited... keep trying elsewhere

And lump in my throat builds a little. My eyes sting somewhat too. I had loved this agent. I had seen a future, and they took one look, and flicked me aside. They don't want me. *reaches for spoon, heads to the freezer* I gave them my heart, and they took a look and passed. Did it repulse them?  Did he/she chuckle and flick it away? Or was it the wrong time? How could I have gotten them to love me, like I love them? 

How will I ever fall for another agent like this again? 

But then I fix up.  There's plenty more fish in the sea...right? Yes, I think, as I console myself, but that fish count is finite. Panic sets in. Who am I kidding? I can't do this. Why would they fall for me out of the thousand of others chucking pieces of their heart at them? 

The stars, as they say, must be aligned to find this elusive ONE. 

I have to hook them in just the right way, at the right angle, with the perfect hook, made of the perfect material, at the right time, Is that even possible? I'm not the luckiest of people. But the truth is, I can't stop this. This must be done.

And so, I straighten my back, and get on with it. Let me me go back and check my heart (manuscript) for any faults, I say to myself. Let me find what it is that could have turned them off. Let me see what i can fix to make my heart (my manuscript) loveable.

A few months later, and I'm buzzing again. I've found one. I think they may be the One. ... And oh, no... I'm falling.

Winter Dryad | Substituting My Canvas For My Face

It's SNOWING OUTSIDEEEEEEEE. It's early Saturday morning, like early, early Saturday morning, like 5am early, and as I write this it's SNOWING. Well, it's not actually snowing snowing, but there's a blanket of snow covering the cars and street, so, yeah. And,as it's Saturday morning, it's like the song goes "and since we've no place to go, let it now, let it snow, let it snow"

It's also perfect timing for me to share this look with you. I call it my Winter Dryad.

Yes. I've been at play with my makeup, No. It's not the look I go for when popping to the shops.

Lately, I've been less at work with my canvases, and back to my roots of playing havoc with my face, As a result, my version of a winter Dryad has taken over.

And here's a video of the process...

Kartonia
xxx

Notting Hill Carnival Monday | Dancing in the Rain

I write this post (on the 26th of august) with a sore throat (I must have been doing a lot of screaming), Sore hips, thighs, shoulders and feet that are refusing any sort of weight on them.

And that, my friends, is how I know that Carnival was AMAZING this year.

Even my tights told me I had a good time. Look at the state of them. (Just so you know, they're not supposed to have holes in them.)




Don't worry, I'm not going to upload a picture of what I look like right now. I don't want you to fall off your chair/bed, choke on what your eating or give you nightmares. I will, however, give you the likes of these...

It poured. Oh my goodness did it pour. Carnival Monday saw buckets and buckets of rain fall down on us and those brave enough to turn up. Did it dampen spirits? Of course not. If anything, it added fuel to our figurative flames of excitement and passion.



It's like my Dad said, "Rain on carnival separates the average partier from a true raver." Yes, he said "raver". And he couldn't be more right, because, in telling me that the best carnival he went to when he was younger was one where it poured, I snapped him on that. I could relate. This was an amazing carnival.

I was soaked to the bone by the end of it. My corset was drenched, my hair was soaking, but funny enough my make up hadn't budged. Honestly though, dancing in the rain for seven hours probably isn't the smartest thing to do, (I was shivering like crazy when I got home, even after I came out of steaming, hot shower), but boy was it fun.

So, to those dark clouds swelled with rain I say... bring it on. You can't stop us from partying through the streets.

Where were you on Carnival Monday? 

Notting Hill Carnival Sunday | Elimu Welcomes TFL

Sunday (traditionally known as Children's day) at the Notting hill Carnival consisted of Sunshine, music and dancing.

On Carnival Sunday the adults in our band don't wear the costumes. Instead they parade around in their T-shirts representing the theme and getting merry. However, this year we had two t-shirts, and Sunday, unlike Monday (which was Blue and representing our theme), was all about the colour Red. Red? Why yes.

This year we were partnered with TFL (Transport for London), and not only were we celebrating carnival, but 60 years since the launch of the Routemaster bus.

Mum dons a white wig, of which she happily wears all the way home.

Tired, but ready for Monday

Notting Hill Carnival | The ghosts of costumes past and the skeletons of present

Notting Hill Carnival, a flamboyant splash of colour with costumes of all sizes and people from the world over, will be gracing the streets of London in Europe's biggest street festival in ten days.

My gorgeous mummy. Queen of Elimu Paddington Arts Mass band

And whilst the rush to complete these portable works of art takes hold, I thought I'd give you a little peak behind the scenes to some of our (Elimu's) creations both from the past and the present...

Mum and Sister

'On tour, Shanghai loved this costume so much it made it onto the front of one of their National Newspapers. Yay Mummy!

Mum preparing for exhibition at Ally Pally (Alexandra Palace) 2011

Nolan. King of Elimu Paddington arts Mass band. 

 This year, as with most years prior, time is not on our side. 

With ten days to go, the bare bones of the Queen's costume are all that stands.  (Note: there are still more bones to add. Shh. Don't tell anybody)

Will we make it in time? ... Of course we will. Nothing beats a ticking clock, an impending deadline and a bit of pressure to get the ol' juices flowing. Mind you, looking at it in this state is quite scary. However, we've been here before. 

Last minute panicking, late night/early morning sewing, welding, sanding and or sawing is no new thing for us. In fact, it's pretty much customary. Many have gone without sleep to get the costumes out in time, and I'm sure this year will be no different. 

Plus, In the nineteen years my mum's played the role of Queen she's never not had a costume completed nor has any other big costume in the band, so... we'll be fine. 

But I've probably just gone and jinxed us all now though, right?  I'm touching wood. Don't worry, I'm touching wood. 

Notting Hill carnival takes place on Sunday the 24th & Bank holiday Monday the 25th of August. Will you be popping by?

Mother and Daughter Time in Malta

 Doing mum's make-up became custom on this holiday. (And don't worry, it didn't always look like this.)

If you know Malta (or are just in the know when in comes to finding countries to party with), you'll probably recognise that Malta's carnival was a few months back now. Four months and five days if we're counting. Yes, I know. It's held during the week leading up to ash Wednesday, which is in spring. We're in summer. That was ages ago. I know. I know.  But I couldn't not share. Malta was beautiful, and the people knew how to have fun. I couldn't keep that to myself. 

Five days in Malta. Invited by the Maltese carnival committee. We we're out there to display the arts. To give a little taster of what Carnival in the UK, specifically Notting hill carnival, (Europe's biggest street festival) had to offer. We were there to create a relationship between both our Fiestas. For future collaborations. It was a bit shaky at times. It rained when we really needed it not to. The music got mixed up when we were on stage. The final day of carnival was cancelled due to weather. But apart from all of that I had a blast.  

From flamboyant floats to amazing costumes, Malta certainly welcomed me with open arms . And with such a beautiful country to see, this trip wasn't just one of sight seeing, food eating and parading the streets in costumes (which I loved, of course). This was trip was also a great little bonding trip for me and mum too.

We started, and spent most of our time, in Valletta, the Capital city of Malta.

And that's where I saw this little cutie. (Don't worry. I did get permission from his mum.) Seriously though, how cute is he? Too, too cute, right? I could just gobble him up. (No cannibalism here though, I assure you.)

Mum knows how to strike a pose.

The floats were made of Paper mache. And I must admit I did completely fall in love with this band here.

So mum got suited up, (Make-up courtesy of me) and waited with part of her costume, (The main part. The oversized head part. The part that actually MADE the costume.) left back in the UK. Talk about embarrassing. But we worked with what we had, and it didn't seem Although, it didn't seem to disappoint.

We hopped on the ferry on our third day and set sail for Gozo. The journey took twenty minutes but it felt more like five. I barely had enough time to buy a packet of Haribo Pinballs when suddenly we were there.

And Gozo, the "sister island of Malta", was not only gorgeous, but lots of fun too.

Back to Malta and we headed off to Mdina. "The Silent City". What can I say about this place. The architecture. The narrowed streets. The lanterns. Cathedrals. Horses and Carriages, I felt like I had been transported to another time. Everything was so serene.

We found a Café called the Fontanella Tea Garden in the Silent City of Mdina. The views from there are breathtaking, and they not only have outdoor seating but indoor as well. Obviously we sat outside to feast our eyes on the view. It was lovely. Not to mention the drinks. Ooh, and try the cakes. And if you love chocolate, try the chocolate tea. It's basically just melted chocolate in cup.

Mum's Irish Coffee went down a storm and I must admit my berry smoothie was very yummy too.

After getting back from another day of  partying and feasting our eyes and taste buds we we're knackered. Look at mum. She looks ready for bed, right? *shakes head* Nope. Don't let her innocent looks deceive you. We went down to the bar after that.  

And then that was that. It was time to come home.