I've been thinking about commitment.

Firstly my oldest friend has just got married. She's made the ultimate commitment you can make to another human being: to love, honour and cherish as long as they both shall live. Of course, it was a wonderful wedding with amazing food, great music, friendly guests and lots of dancing. A few weeks later, I was at a party and a guest was complaining that all her relatives expect her to get married soon as both her sisters are married already. But she was perturbed, 'all my sisters do is complain about how their husbands don't help them or are being grumpy. They used to save up for posh handbags and shoes. Now they're saving for chairs. Chairs?!' She shook her head in disgust.

It's funny that no matter how many books are written about marriage, there still remains a gap between our expectations and the reality. It started me wondering about how many novels accurately descibe that phase where reality sets in, when aspirational shoe-buying is replaced by a longing for chairs and, for most women, a longing for twenty minutes to sit undisturbed on said chair eating chocolate and watching trashy TV. . . or maybe that's just me!

My life hasn't just been about parties. I've also been working on some freelance contracts over the last few weeks from writing proposals to compiling press releases. It's great fun writing in different genres. I've always loved researching articles, and pulling information together into the correct format whether it be for a newspaper, website or book.

Journalism and public relations both involve researching, writing and deadlines. Skills needed for novel writing too. Yet, I must admit I'm much more likely to complete for a client than for myself. I'm trying to get better at this by making a daily commitment to myself and trying to keep it.So far, it's been a bit hit and miss but I'm hoping that one day . . . maybe I'll be able to honour commitments to myself as much as the ones I make to other people.
 
It's a running joke in our family that my husband always works out plots before I do, whether it be film, tv or a book. I've just finished reading One Day. For some reason I'd confused David Nicholls with David Mitchell. Once I realised which David had written One Day, I gave in to the hype and bought a copy.
I should point out I don't have anything against David Mitchell but I haven't finished Cloud Atlas yet so can't buy another of his titles until I do so.
I love David Nicholls. Admittedly I think he has some strange ideas about what makes men attractive to women (read The Understudy if you don't believe me!) but Starter for Ten was so sweet and funny that I'm now committed to reading his books as soon as they're published . . .well, apart from the One Day fiasco which meant I eventually read it much, much later than everyone else.
Of course, I loved it too and cried. I started to explain the structure to my husband, building up to explaining the high concept but before I could finish explaining the structure, he interrupted me to guess about the overarching concept. He was right. He always is.
Now if we're watching a film, I can understand that I might miss some of the clues to the forthcoming revelations but I was explaining the structure. I hadn't given any clues because, to be honest, I didn't see any as I was reading. Yet, he still got it right. I'm thinking he should start writing books, or plotting films, or just putting on bets on the outcome of events. There must be some way we can use his skill, other than to impress me with his perceptiveness!