Fifty Shades of Cream

I have heard back from my lovely editor who has read the first draft of my latest project. Her response wasn’t, ‘Thanks , but no thanks,’ as I’d feared it might be. It was more, ‘Hmm, yes, well…’ and the hint that what I’ve written is…well… not really novel- shaped yet, but more a series of episodes. I knew it, really. But was hoping that a series of episodes might be acceptably post-modern and cool. It turns out that it’s not…acceptable that is…so more thinking is required.

So I must turn my attention away from house décor and back to the WorkInProgress.

Which is, actually, something of a relief. Because choosing colours is proving a headache. Not that it should be difficult. Here, the colour of choice is neutral, unadventurous, bland even. Basically, it’s cream. But how can shades of cream be so different from each other?

And how is it that those little rectangles of paint on paint charts no way resemble the colour when you try it out on paper and in turn neither of these shades resemble the actual colour of the paint once you’ve forked out a large sum of money and bought a big tin of the stuff and started daubing it on the walls?

It’s a mystery. And while I’m scratching my head over this and also over the question of What To Do With My Novel, the estimable Bookwitch has found this lovely idea.

What a marvellous distraction. I’m now busy pondering which books I would choose for my staircase. And what an opportunity for bold and cheery colours…

Hah! As if…