Random Strange Derivations (1)

There is a (somewhat revolting) expression for perspiring profusely, which is known as 'sweating cobs'. I'm not sure whether it's peculiar to my native county of Yorkshire, but that's where I heard it first. It was only when I was studying Old and Middle English that I learned that the word for spider is 'attecoppe' - meaning 'cup of poison' which is fairly self explanatory.
The word cob is sometimes used for spider in Yorkshire - hence 'sweating cobs' meaning that the droplets are running down, like little spiders! Strange or what?
When I was a child in Yorkshire, we also used to call those floating seeds that sail through the air in late summer 'hairy cobs'. We would blow on them and hope that they would float upwards, chanting 'hairy cob, hairy cob, bring me some luck' - or sometimes 'bring me some money'. I assume that these too were seen as 'hairy spiders'.
Not a lot of people know this! I didn't even know it back then, when I was using the word!

Stonking Great Stories.

Am gearing up to do yet more rewrites on what has come to be known as The Book, in this house. There are other books, some almost written, some half written, some planned. But THIS is THE BOOK. It has been through more versions than I have had hot dinners. Well, not quite, but it feels like it. And yet, each new draft seems to have been an important part of the process, leading me on to something new, exciting, interesting.
When I sent the latest version - so far from where this project started that it seems to me now like a completely different book - to my agent, I kind of expected editorial suggestions. But I also thought that I might finally have cracked it.
When he wrote back to me, with some notes, he also said - more or less - 'this is a very good book, but it isn't a great book. I think you have the potential to turn it into a great book. Do you want to have a go, because I will quite understand if you don't. It's up to you. I'd be happy to send it out, or wait for you to write something else - or have another go at this one. Your decision.'
He also used that dread word 'quiet'. Not, he was quick to stress, that he thought it was 'too quiet' - but he knows his market, all too frighteningly well. And he knows that that is the word that editors will use when they get back to him. 'Beautifully written - but quiet.'
After a little thought, I went onto my Facebook page and without specifying any details, asked my fellow writers (pretty much the majority of my Facebook friends are writers!) how they would set about addressing the problem of 'quietness'. I got a drift of answers at least some of which were helpful. Somebody (who had probably never read anything I had written, folk are like that!) said that I had to make my characters 'real' - but that has never been my problem. Actually, I suspect it's quite the opposite. My characters are sometimes all too real, which may mean that I sacrifice the drama. Another friend, a very fine writer herself, said that she gets the same reaction, and has been told by her North American editor, that she needs a 'stonking great story'. Several people told me that I must follow my heart. And there's some truth in that, as well. But, but, but....I can't ignore advice from somebody who clearly has my best career interests at heart.
I had a conversation with this same agent, a few days later, and he pointed out a particular scene in the novel which he thought worked perfectly, and was, in fact, an example of exactly what he meant. Considering his comments (actually, I have spent several hours in the middle of several nights, doing nothing but consider them!) I realise that what he is after, what the publishing world is really after, is a stonking great story, beautifully told. Failing that, of course, they will go for the stonking great story without the beautiful telling, every time.
All of which begs the interesting question - can I pull it off without the whole book coming crashing down around my ears.
I have to try.
And at least some of my midnight ponderings have revealed something else. The book itself has changed. What I thought was the 'story' of the book, is more like a sub plot. A very important sub plot, vital to the whole thing - but all the same, not quite the main theme, spine, story. That lies elsewhere, or not so much elsewhere, as seen from a completely different angle. And I'm still not telling it. Why? I'm not sure. Perhaps because it frightens me somewhat. It is, let's face it, a stonking great story, but also a scary one.
But I have to have a try, because now that I'm aware if it, it isn't going to go away.
Lots more work. I'll keep you posted.