Short and sweet

Just like a yum yum

Not a yum yum, but an empire biscuit – not sure if you can say a circle is short

Hello from Argyll, where, since I last logged on, I have written 17,811 words of novel number two, which doesn’t feel like bad going in nine days of writing (I took most of last weekend off to go and see family and friends in Edinburgh, which was a three-hour trip each way but didn’t feel like it as it involved two short car rides either end, plus a ferry ride across the Clyde, a train to Glasgow Central, a walk across to Queen Street, and then another train, which suited Wilf nicely.) I have no idea whether they’re any good, all those words, presumably many of them aren’t quite the right words, but hopefully some of them are, and anyway, they will do until I start going over it more seriously.

After the hoo-ha with my laptop failing to save six hours of edits on an essay I was writing when I first arrived, I also decided to make the time (I am very impatient, and always want to get started on something rather than endlessly planning it, which may explain why this substack feels a bit like something James Joyce’s dog may have written – or not… a quick google suggests the great man had a profound fear of dogs – GET TO THE POINT!) to revisit the writing program Scrivener, which I downloaded - and paid handsomely for! - back in 2024, and failed to get to grips with. There were so many passionately devoted users on our BlandBadger writing retreat last autumn that I had to believe it was doable, and worth the effort, but bloody hell it’s befuddling! (Or is that just me? I like to think of myself as relatively tech savvy for a geriatric millennial, but perhaps I’m kidding myself.) So much information to take in in the initial online tutorial! No wonder I was so easily bamboozled last time, and so quick to give up and go back to a google doc.

working hard

Though I would have preferred a chunky paper manual to either, in the end my pride was saved by a short, easy-to-follow YouTube tutorial by an American YA author which basically showed me what I wanted, which was the absolute basics (here!), and ok, ok, I admit I was wrong. Turns out it’s not Scrivener I struggled with (though I am aware I am using about two per cent of its potential, so I surely would have been able to buy a simpler program for my needs), it’s the way it explains itself.

What it’s been great for, so far, is keeping track of notes on characters, and timelines: although I love the act of writing things down in notebooks, and find big expansive mind map-type notes very helpful for organising my thoughts, I am so impatient, as previously referenced, that in reality I end up scribbling and leaving the notes half finished because I’m so keen to just get going. So, consider me a tentative convert. Mark, it was nothing to do with you obviously - all Paola.

I’m enjoying the way the story is taking shape – I keep thinking of new details when I’m out with Wilf, because the walk along the shore is now familiar enough that my mind can wander – and going down happy research rabbit holes involving things like Moncler dog coats (a mere £425 and “crafted in iconic nylon laqué”. If only I’d known that before investing a mere £46 for a curvy-fit Equafleece with a bespoke zip up the back for the arthritic hound) and the Birmingham restaurant scene in 2015 (nb it is not set in Birmingham. Maybe book three). Sadly I’ve only got another week up here before I have to come crawling back to the sweaty South, shedding multiple fleeces en route, but hopefully I’ll be able to get a good big chunk more done first.

Thanks to this burst of productivity I haven’t eaten anything very exciting, to be honest, because tragically I don’t have time to drive around looking for interesting food (venison lorne sausage from the village shop is about the most unusual, I think) but here’s a selection.

Dog-friendly cottage pie, kimchi and peanut butter on toast, venison square soss, kimchi and sardines on toast, millionaire's shortbread, buttered cabbage and egg, haggis and omelette roll, Audrey Baxter's cullen skin with broccoli, Orkney cheddar and broccoli spud (when I find a vegetable I make the most of it)

Not pictured, some tinned cassoulet I brought back from Morzine while writing Peach Street to Lobster Lane, which has been excellent with cabbage: if that floats your boat, you should read Carolyn Boyd’s brilliant (free) substack on the food she brings back from France. (I have, I’m afraid, developed a slightly regrettable taste for Mackies tablet flavour ice cream - regrettable because I ate a big tub in three nights last week. Can’t bring myself to look at the nutrition label to confront the awful truth.)

Wilf

don’t I’m nekkid

Ran straight into my sister’s house like Lazarus at the Las Vegas buffet, ate two human sausages intended her for her younger and healthier dog who has extremely picky tastes, and then refused all other food but processed meat for the entire weekend.

Events

Tickets are now on sale for the three-course dinner and discussion with Claire Nelson, author of the amazing survival memoir, Things I Learned from Falling, about her near-death experience while out hiking in California’s Joshua Tree National Park, and so much more, on Tuesday, 15th September at the Brown Cow pub in Fulham. It should be fab: the menu is inspired by my three travel books, which we’ll be chatting about, as well as adventure, solo travel, cycling, hiking and those universal joys, food and dogs, plus what it’s been like switching to fiction (and I’ll do a little reading too). Wilf will, I hope, be there too.

• Also, 13th September, 2:30pm Chiswick Book Festival (with Bee Wilson who needs no introduction)

• 3rd October, 6pm, Henley Literary Festival (with Olly Smith! You know Olly Smith)

• 10th October, Festilitt, Parisot, Tarn-et-Garonne, France

• 15th November, 4pm, Folkestone Literary Festival (with Claire Cohen, journalist, cat-lover and author of BFF)

A.O.B.

Books (almost) all here and in physical bookshops too, should you have been thrown me by cruel fate and be unaware of my oeuvre, and Guardian columns here.

Lastly, can’t believe I missed this! Rhubarb is the best crumble, and the second best fool (gooseberry, obviously), and I will brook no argument on either point.