Advice For My Teenage Self - #bloganuary

 Gosh, looking back at my teenage self has been quite the experience. I've remembered people who I haven't thought about for 40 years and the scary thing is I can picture most of them in their teenage 1970s guise. Here goes with the advice...

Be brave and believe in yourself. You're more capable than you know but you lack self confidence. Sure, you're good at faking it but when it comes right down to it you step aside and don't go there. Just step up to the plate, grab life by the lapels and strut your stuff. There's a star in there so let her out.

Don't worry about not being one of the popular kids. They're not actually having such a great time, it's all an illusion. You'll make friends who will be with you for life, friends who will lift you up and make you feel brilliant. None of them were the 'cool' kids at school, they were the genuine people who shared the good times and bad with you. So celebrate the normal kids who get you, they'll be there for ever.

Those popular girls, the ones with all the boyfriends and the stunning social life? They aren't having such a good time. They're being used and abused, taken advantage of and laughed at. They're damaged by those boys, they're damaged by their social lives, they're damaged by those experiences. Not something to aspire to so just be grateful that you miss out on the abuse.

Sometimes it's hard to know what the right thing to do is. Please have confidence in your judgement. If you want to do something, do it. Don't worry about what everyone else thinks. It's your life not theirs. I'm not saying go out of your way to hurt other people but you worry too much about what other people will think or say that you risk missing out on some great experiences.

Most of all, stay true to yourself. You turn out ok and your life will be good. Good luck!

Oh, by the way, take more pictures - I'd love to have evidence of some of the dodgy hair styles and bizarre fashion choices.

Time For Takeoff?.

 Every now and then something comes along that knocks me off the path I was on and gives me a totally new perspective. Yesterday I had a moment like that and I thought I'd share it with you.

I am relatively new to podcasts. I don't listen to many and very few do I follow in what could be called a regular fashion. But during the course of a writing 'course' I have been taking online the author listed some interesting resources. One of these was the podcast of Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of Big Magic. You can find a link to the podcast here Magic Lessons . I read Big Magic a few years ago and was struck by the way she promoted creativity and encouraged everyone to get on and live a creative life. Naturally, being me, I promptly did nothing about it and had almost forgotten about it until I found her podcast. As I tend to flit around and pick things at random without really following any pattern I decided to start at the beginning of the podcast and listen to episode one. What an eye opener. And let me tell you why.

In this episode Elizabeth Gilbert was talking to a young mother who wanted to write a non fiction book about living creatively when you have children and a home to take care of. She had done lots of research, taken lots of classes and planned in detail what she wanted to say. But she was stuck about how to get started. Elizabeth Gilbert then gave her the best advice I have heard in ages. She told her that all her work up until this point was taxiing on the runway! She had been preparing and building up to writing her book and now was the time to take-off, the time to fly, to write the book she wanted to write.

It made total sense to me and my situation. I am always looking for another book on writing, another course to take and I never get round to doing the writing. I am always preparing but never doing! And that's why the fragments I have are all on the laptop and not out in the world. And that's why I usually fail to finish anything. Not because I am lazy or blocked or procrastinating. Because I am taxiing and not taking off. I think that I need more preparation, more getting ready when the truth is I'll never 'be ready' unless I take off. I have to let the words go, let them fly.

It's scary, isn't it? Letting go of your babies, taking your hand off the wheel and seeing what happens. But it can be exciting too. I'm excited to see if I can finally stop taxiing and take-off, fly free as the writer I really want to be. So I'm going to try taking off, flying out there with my words and stories. And because I can't wait to see what happens I'm going to dip my toe into the self publishing world. Don't know how or where yet but I'll find a way.

Because I really want to fly now. Wind beneath my wings anyone?

Reset. And About Time Too!

 Logging on this morning I noticed that I haven't posted anything here since May.

Which is ironic considering that I've come here to explore why I've not been writing very much lately!

So, this writing lark has proved very hard recently. I don't seem able to marshal my thoughts. Everything is muddled and mixed up and unformed somehow. I had an idea for a novel, I had good characters, I had a vague idea of where the story would go. But I couldn't write it. I've managed a few scenes but nothing of any substance. I feel like I've lost my writing mojo.

There's no obvious reason for this apart from all the usual suspects - crippling self doubt, laziness, procrastination of Olympic proportions. None of which helps when I'm trying to work out whether all this is temporary or if it's the Universe telling me to stop kidding myself and give up for good. The defeated writer has left the building ...

However, it's nearly November, NaNoWriMo is here soon so I've resolved to have a reset this weekend and see how I go with a NaNo project. I hope to oil the writing cogs and get this old machine whirring again. 

Bring on the dancing horses!

To Those Men

 To those men who think it's a laugh to catcall women as they walk down the road.

To those men who brush ever so casually against your breast as they reach for the rail on the tube.

To those men who walk too close to women on a dark street.

To those men who tell you to smile, cheer up, be pretty.

To those men who drunkenly tell you you're beautiful and leer close to you as you back away.

To those men who try to steal a kiss when being pushed firmly away.

To those men who comment on your legs or breasts or arse.

To those men who sit too close on the bus pressing their leg against yours.

To those men who grab women, who touch women, who fondle women in crowded places.

To those men who pull women in tight, who push women into dark corners, who force their bodies against women.

To those men who put their hands on women, who put their hands under your clothes, who pull at your clothing.

You are part of the problem.

It's not a laugh, it's not banter, it's not ok.

It's threatening.

It's frightening.

It's abuse.

I call it out, all women call it out.

It's not ok to make women feel scared, threatened, intimidated.

It's not ok to be that man, that bully, that predator.

And until you accept that we will continue to live in fear of you, to walk in fear, to see you all as predatory.

To hold our keys in our clenched fists, to avoid going out in the dark, to plan our route home carefully.

To teach our daughters to fear men, to be small and quiet so the men won't see them.

To mourn and fight and fear at each new attack, each tragic murder, each case of coercive control.

Written in sadness, in memory of all the abused, scared and murdered women.

In hope we can change this narrative.

Five Questions I'm Asking This New Year

I decided a while ago that I wouldn't do the usual New Year post. It's been such an odd time that I thought some reflection was needed so I came up with five questions I've been asking myself as 2021 approached.

1. What can I take from 2020?

There's no denying that 2020 was a very trying year. Many people had a very hard time and many people are suffering as a result of the pandemic. It's strange to think back to the beginning of 2020 and all the plans or resolutions we made. I was looking forward to a writing retreat to re-connect with friends and get some writing done in a beautiful country house. Of course that didn't happen and there's no knowing when we will be able to meet up again. Several friends had big holidays planned, long haul destinations that would be a holiday of a lifetime trip. All cancelled. 

On a more serious note, many people lost someone they loved. My aunt died last year, not related to Covid as so many were. But because of the pandemic and travelling I was unable to attend her funeral. So many had to mourn via webcam, unable to hug the bereaved. It's heartbreaking to think how much we've all missed a hug, a hand on the arm, the comfort of human contact.

So there is much to mourn about 2020. However I am able to take some positives from it too. It gave us all the chance to slow down, to step off the crazy whirlwind of 21st century life and look around. Some people took the time to re-connect with hobbies they had long abandoned, others took time to enjoy nature. For me it was a time to think about what is really important in life, to stop worrying about how others see me, to realise the value of just being me.

2. What will I use going into 2021?

The dawning of a new year is a traditional place to re-set, to re-evaluate our lives and make changes. The tradition of the New Year Resolution which I always buy into only to forget by the end of January. So this year I'm just looking for tiny things I can do that will move my life forward, make me happier. So no pronouncements about losing weight or finishing my novel. This year I will be kind to myself, stop doing the things that I know harm me and increase the good stuff in my life. I hope that I do finish my novel but this time I'm just going to be content with the writing I get done rather than stressing about the writing I didn't do. I enjoyed sharing my protagonist on this blog during December so I may do more of that this year. I will stop putting things off until some mythical day in the future and enjoy the here and now. If 2020 taught us anything it's that life can be changed in an instant so we should enjoy the time we have without regret.

3. How can I end 2021 feeling fulfilled?

This is a tricky one. It's rather a big question after all. But I think it bears asking in light of what we've all experienced last year. I am trying to look forward with hope. There are good signs that by summer I may have had a vaccination and have immunity from Covid. That means I can stop worrying about it all the time, stop letting it hold me back, stop feeling fearful. By the end of the year I hope many people have been vaccinated and we can begin to re-build our lives and catch up with all the things we have missed.

I want to end 2021 with a sense of accomplishment on a personal level. I want to feel happy about where my writing is, whether that's in terms of publication or not. Perhaps another lesson from 2020 is that I don't need the validation of publication. It would be wonderful if it happens but I can find satisfaction in other forms. I was lucky enough to have a story published the anthology Heartache and Hope. It was lovely to see my name in print, to know others would read my words. It even got read out on a Youtube channel! All very wonderful and good for the soul. I'd like more of that in 2021 so I will need to write, polish and submit. 

4. What is important to me?

I have been fortunate during the pandemic. I didn't lose anyone to the virus and my family and friends remain healthy although some of them did have Covid. As a retired person I didn't have to make any major alterations to my daily routine, apart from setting the home office up for my husband to work from. I am grateful for the security of my home, many don't have a comfortable home of their own and 2020 was bleak for them. I also have a garden and although I'm not much of a gardener it's nice to have somewhere to sit in the fresh air or potter about pulling up weeds. I hope to make more effort to enjoy it this year.

The importance of family and friends was really brought home to me in 2020. I don't have a busy social life as a rule but I have missed being able to meet up with my sister for wine and gossip, to see friends for coffee and a chat. I've missed live theatre, the open-air Shakespeare we enjoy every summer in Oxford. I've missed the spontaneity of deciding in the morning to pop out for the day. Everything has had to be planned with military precision!  

5. What do I hope for in 2021?

There are big hopes and small hopes. I hope that the various vaccines are available to everyone, that they mean we can all live lives free from fear. I hope that the wealthy nations make sure the poor are not left behind in the vaccination programme. I hope that we remember that there is much inequality in society and remember how we all came together to make a difference. I hope we remember how precious our NHS is and demand that it is properly funded in the future.

The small hopes? I hope I can remember how lonely it can be not connecting with friends. I hope I can grasp every opportunity that comes my way. I hope I can look back on 2021 as a year well-lived.

And I hope all my friends have successful 2021 too. Happy New Year!

So, who is this person?

One of the lovely things about being a writer is getting to invent people. When I start a story I usually have a really clear picture of the main character. I know their name, what sort of person they are, little details about their background. I even go as far as to know what they'd have for breakfast or if they prefer tea or coffee. Details like that rarely make it into the story but they mean that the character is 'real' to me and I feel able to tell their story.

But sometimes there is a character who hides in the shadows, who won't reveal themselves to me as I begin. The novel I'm writing at the moment had such a character. I had a name for them and a vague idea what they were like but so much was hidden. Even as far as their physical appearance. Is she tall? Thin? Blue eyes? Nothing seemed 'solid' about her. She was like a ghost. How do you write about a character that hided from you?

But then suddenly she stepped out of the shadows and stood there clear as day. From the depths of my memory came the figure of a Great Aunt who was just the type of person I needed my character to be like. A few alterations and she was perfect - not my Great Aunt, my antagonist. She arrived with a full set of quirks and foibles and waited for me to bring her into the story.

So maybe all the characters are there in my head already, standing in the wings, waiting for their cue. No wonder I'm so flaky sometimes: my head's full of people jostling for their moment in the spotlight.

Times They Are A Changing

It's hard to know what to say at the moment. Things are odd and people odder. Whichever way you turn there is someone screaming that it's all too much, they can't cope, it's not fair. And so you turn away and there's another person shouting that everyone's being selfish, why can't the schools re-open, how are they supposed to manage if they can't see their mates.

And on and on and on.

I try to hold on to the little moments of kindness, the little moments of joy in this chaos and drown out the noise with bird song. I've been planting seeds and am enjoying watching them germinate. Hopefully if I look after them and the slugs stay away we will have some lovely veggies to eat later in the year. I have been planning a new book and enjoying the process of stepping into a new story.

So we soldier on, following the rules and hoping things will soon improve. Stay safe and look after your loved ones.

Difficult Times

I have thought long and hard about whether to write this post. Things are so difficult at the moment and I'm no sure that I have anything useful or insightful to add. But there is no denying that things are strange and worrying so I decided to share a few observations here. 

I have no special insight, it goes without saying. I'm an average citizen trying to get on with things in the face of everything. I am coping, as we all are, but I am not thriving. I don't suppose many of us are. Things seem to change on a daily basis and we are all struggling to know what to do or who to believe.

I am in a fortunate position compared to many. My loved ones are well, looking after themselves and staying strong. I have no close elderly relatives to fret about. In fact, my OH and I probably are the elderly relatives! But I am aware all the time that others are worried and frightened about their loved ones and I feel great compassion for my friends who are suffering. These are difficult times for all of us.

I am also fortunate that I have no school age children whose education is being disrupted, who are worried about exams, who are worried about friends and family and looking to me for reassurance.  My OH is working from home and we are safe and well. Fingers crossed it stays that way but as we are all generally healthy we hope that if we do get ill it will be mild and over quickly. I am thinking all the time about friends who are not so fortunate, who are feeling stressed at the moment and may not be managing as well as we are.

However, I do feel the stress, the anxiety and the worry. It's so hard to step away from the rolling news of doom being played out on screens everywhere. I feel the strain on my mental health building and am mindful of the need to step away, to breathe, to refocus. I am choosing to stay at home, to isolate myself from others despite not being ill. I might be contagious and not know it so it seems like a wise thing to do. But if this goes on for a long time I can see it having a negative effect on us all. We are social animals, we need face to face interaction with others and not just through screens. I am grateful for the technology that allows us to connect while we isolate but I look forward to coffee with a friend and a good gossip, to laughing and hugging again.

We are all making sacrifices at this time. It may get worse before it gets better and that is sobering. How long we will have to live isolated lives is uncertain and for many that is another source of stress. Plans are being cancelled and lives put on hold. 

But there is light even here. I have been struck by the blossoming of creativity from many.  People sharing stories, drawing classes online, virtual choirs, old favourite TV shows popping up on iPlayer. There is so much goodness, kindness, loveliness emerging it gives me hope. I hope that we don't lose it when things go back to 'normal'. Do we even want the old normal back? I'm not sure I do. stepping away from the madness should give us time to decide what is important in life, what we really need to thrive. This could be the time to re-evaluate. I do hope so.

So, a few thoughts. My two penn'orth. I wish all my friends good mental and physical health. Keep those you love safe and cherish them. We are learning that life can be fragile. The things that matter are the people we love, our health and well being. You can't buy them but it is easy to take them for granted. Let's relearn how to value each other. Let's weather this storm and come through it more whole, more mindful and more considerate than we entered it. 

The Shock of Success

One of the things that is so strange about being a writer is how solitary it can be. You sit in a room at a laptop or huddled over a notebook, creating characters, making up stories and plotting them out. You spend hours, days, weeks, months, even years getting things written and polished until you are happy with the result. The brave among us then find a potential home for our work and if we're lucky we get the work out into the world and it finds some readers. For the rest of us, the work sits on the hard drive or in our notebook, unread and unseen. Most of the time I am the latter, a secret horder of work which no-one ever sees.

But I do love a Twitter writing competition. So I often compose something in response to a Twitter prompt and let it loose, never expecting anything more than a few kind comments and a couple of likes. So imagine my shock when this week I took part in a prompt set by Curtis Brown and I won! I was so stunned that at one point I was nearly reduced to tears. That something I had written and touched people and been deemed to be the best was so amazing to me. Not just anybody either, these were industry professionals, people who know what they're talking about! In life I've got so used to not coming top in anything that I don't quite know how to process what happened. I am obviously delighted and have found it hard to keep the smile off my face all weekend. And to add to the loveliness there is a prize of a place on one of Curtis Brown's wonderful writing courses. I'm still deciding which one to take but what a lovely dilemma to have. 

I have been thinking about my reaction to the success of my little Twitter tale. As someone who has never risen to the top I was so surprised I had to check several times that I hadn't misread the tweet. I found it hard to speak. In fact I had to show my family the tweet as I found it hard to articulate what had happened. Why should I be surprised at my success? Well, as I've said, it's not something that I'm used to. I'm Mrs Average, middle of the pack, one of the crowd. And that's ok, I'm happy with that. But it did get me thinking. What if I were to somehow achieve some degree of success with my writing? How would that feel? How would I feel? 

I don't have any answers. I hope that in the future I will get to feel like this again, it's quite intoxicating. Maybe after the writing course, when I can decide which one to take, I'll have something that will find some success and I can get used to this wonderful feeling of success. 

Can't seem to make my mind up ...

Nobody ever said that being a writer would be easy. And I can attest to the fact that at the moment, for me, it's certainly true.

As you know I have been submitting my finished manuscript and plotting out the sequel. No joy with the submitting yet but it's a long, slow process so that's fine. The new story is fully plotted out and ready to go. All is well, yes?

No!

Because a new and very exciting story has jumped into my head. It's something more akin to what I always dreamed I'd write rather than the story that emerged from NaNoWriMo. And it is all I can think about. I've plotted it out and in my head I've written the first sentences. It's the most exciting thing I've come up with since taking my writing seriously and it has left me confused.

I don't know whether to go with the shiny new story or put it on the back burner until I've written the sequel that I was planning. I think I know the answer but it scares me. I so want to write the new shiny story. It's so exciting and I have such good feelings about it. But should I abandon the project I was working on? I also worry if I leave it alone it will never see the light of day.

Another thought I have had is about self publishing the fantasy novel under a different name and getting going with the new project.

Of course all this is spinning my mind around and leaving me unable to write anything!

What to do? Who knows? Hopefully I can figure it all out in the next few days...

Five Minute Free Write

I decided to go freestyle today and leave the prompts alone. This is a sketch of an incident on the bus the other day.

I got on the bus with my son and we sat down only for a woman to begin shouting at us. She was distraught about something but all I caught was that we were looking at her with 'black eyes'. She wandered to the front of the bus and began to yell at the driver who waited patiently and asked if she wanted to get off the bus. It became obvious that she didn't but she carried on shouting and swearing. Naturally, being British, we all sat with our eyes downcast and listened. Nobody seemed to know what to do or even if doing something was the right thing to do. She eventually went upstairs and the bus drove off. We then heard her yelling and loud noises which seemed to be her hitting or kicking the side panels on the bus. The driver radioed some message to the depot but we carried on. Every now and then there was another thump and more swearing from upstairs. Two young professionals got on, asked the driver some questions and went upstairs to speak to the woman. She came down and got off the bus, cursing and punching the bus as she did so. The young people seemed to know how to deal with her and phoned for someone to go and make sure she was OK.

It was obvious that she was in some sort of crisis and I guess that the young people who spoke to her were mental health care professionals of some sort. The driver said she was a regular on the route so they knew what to do. My point is that in an ideal world someone would have been looking after her and she wouldn't have been wandering around on her own in obvious distress. But this isn't an ideal world and unless a crisis is reached little seems to be done to help those who are vulnerable. They are left to their own devices and picked up when they become a danger to themselves or a 'nuisance' to the rest of us.

I hope they found her and helped her. I hope she had a better end to her day than the beginning seemed to be. I hope she had a quiet and calm time later that day. And I am so glad there are people like those two young people to care for the most vulnerable in our society.

Are you too fond of backstory?

Are you too fond of backstory?


Take a character, imagine their sex and age but keep them nameless. Imagine they wake up in bed having lost their memory. Write what happens next.


Woman, 51.


She threw the blankets off, struggled to unwrap her left leg from the sheet and sat up. Eyes wide, she scanned the room. Square, green walls, tired curtains. Where was she?
The bed creaked as she swung her legs over the side. The air was cold, a draught blew from under the door and something was scratching the door panel. As she placed her feet down they brushed against a faded pair of slippers. She carefully slipped her feet in, they fitted but felt wrong. She pulled her feet out and stood, feeling a tightness across her belly. The floor was cold, wooden and unpolished. Nothing looked familiar and still that scratching at the door.
Resting her hand on the brass knob at the bottom of the bed she shuffled towards the door. The handle was porcelain and cool to her fingers. She took a deep breath and reached out.

Five Minute Writer - January 6th

Twelfth Night, Christmas decorations down. The festive season over for another year. How do I feel about that? Well, the lounge looks bare yet normal again. We don't put much up but as soon as it all comes down you notice the change. Back to school or work for most normality returns. We get back into our usual routines, try to remember what day the bins go out, get the ironing board out again.

So much for festivities, real life is here and we must embrace it. There are new challenges for me including planning a second novel and finding a home for the first one. There is a podcast to plan and a health and fitness 'regime' to establish. So the new year has bought much to do and much to think about.

I wave goodbye to the festive season, not mourning it exactly but noting its passing. There will be less sparkle and glitter, less sugar and gin but it was a nice diversion while it lasted. Time to think about other things, to look beyond the season and take it all in. The good, the bad and the ugly of 2020.

Five Minute Writer - January 5th

Not So Beautiful Words

As a writer I should be equally in love with all words, right? Well, that's not how it is. As a human I have preferences, likes and dislikes. Some words I use far too often, others I avoid like the proverbial plague. Today's task is to share something about a word I don't like. So here it is, one of my least favourite words - moist.
Yuk. Typing that was traumatic. It's a word that has nasty connotations in my mind. It brings up images of sweaty hands being wiped down soiled jeans, wet tissues left on tables, dampness and dankness. It's a word I shy away from, one that brings a sneer to my face without bidding. Nasty little word.
I'm not sure where some of these images come from. There must have been an episode that triggered my dislike of 'mositness' but it's buried so far down I can't begin to think what is was. It's a sleazy word, inhabiting the slimy side of life, a very male word that makes my skin crawl. There are so many words that could be used in its stead, why does it even exist? Yuk again I say.

Five Minute Writer - January 4th

Forgot to post this yesterday! However, the prompt was to think of 1010 uses for an object. There was a list to choose from and I selected an old ironing board. Here's what I came up with in five minutes.

101 uses for ... an old ironing board

Ripping the torn cover from the rusted frame of the ironing board he tipped it over and stood back, hands on hips, brows knitted.
'I think it'll stay up. We could use some rope to tie it to the trees. Then chuck the canvas over it.'
Timmy stomped over to the bushes, knelt down and pulled the orange rope from its hising place. It was tangle and took ages to unknot. The nylon fibres bit into Jemma's jands and bought tears to her eyes. She wanted to stop but didn't want to look weak in Timmy's eyes. He rarely played with her these days, preferring cricket or canoeing with his school friends.
They tied the ironing board securl between the trees and struggled to drape the old tent canvas across the framework. Finally, they stood in silence, admiring their hard work. A sturdy tented structure, a shelter from the weather, a den for the summer. Timmy nodded, put and arm around Jemma and pulled his kid sister into his side.
'Not bad for a girl,' he grinned.

Five Minute Writer - January 3rd

Today was about looking at the relationships we can create between concrete and abstract nouns. Most of what I wrote was trivial and not very interesting but I thought I'd share a couple that I liked.

Life is like a bead. Tiny, perfect, colourful yet with a hole running through. Best when threaded with others.

Life is like a book. A beginning and an ending, adventures and characters within, sometimes happy, sometimes sad. Do not judge by the cover though.

Five Minute Writer - January 2nd

Today's task was to write a list about something. I chose one from the suggested ideas and here is today's contribution - it's not very interesting!

List of pet hates /irritations
Rudeness - it takes no time at all to be polite and it can really make someone's day.
People not saying please or thank you - I was brought up to say these and I am appallled when people don't say them. Maybe I'm of an older generation but I think it's important to acknowledge when someone has done a service for you.
Unkindness - why must folk be unkind to others? Does it make them feel big or clever? It's a mystery to me. A little kindness goes a long way.
Thoughtlessness - again I don't understand this one. A moment to consider the other person and everyone feels happy and valued.
Litter - so much mess, such lack of consideration for the environment. Again, I was brought up to take my litter home or find a bin. I couldn't drop anything on the floor.
Bigotry - this one has surfaced big time recently. I wish everyone could listen to the other point of view, acknowledge it and move on. We don't have to agree but we can all respect the other viewpoint.

Five Minute Writer - January 1st

I wanted something to kick start my writing habit and Nicola Young suggested I take a look at The Five Minute Writer by Margaret Geraghty. It's filled with ideas and exercises to do which give you something to write about when you feel blocked or stuck. Maybe just when you're not sure what to write to kick the habit off on any given day. So I'm using these exercises to get into a good, regular writing habit. And to keep myself accountable I'm planning to post what I write here so everyone can see when I fall behind or lose the habit.

The first exercise asks about rituals and ritualistic behaviour. Here is what I came up with in my allotted five minutes.

The Power of Ritual
Filling the kettle is a time to contemplate. Only a few seconds until there is enough water to boil but it is a time to stare out of the window and wonder at the world. Someone is passing, where are they going? Early morning bus to catch maybe, dog to walk usually. The water fills the kettle and I place and plug, a blue light glows to signal electric current passing. The wonders of modern convenient living. No need to draw water from a well or pump, no need to build and light a fire. All modern living happens with the click of a switch. The national grid connects me to every other soul who is making tea at 7am. Steam rises and I pull the kettle from its cradle, pour the water onto leaves and wait, staring through the window again. I seem to spend many minutes watching through windows. Kitchen, lounge, bus, coffee shop. All panes I have watched the world through. I must have seen many thousand souls passing by the windows, wondered at their lives, guessed who they were and where they were heading.

2020 - hopes and thoughts

It's that time again when everyone makes resolutions that they hope will transform their lives but which in reality are forgotten or broken by the end of January. I came across a quote from Mark Twain which I thought summed this ritual up rather well - 'Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual.' Nothing screams failure like a resolution broken, does it? So I refuse to set myself up to fail and have decided to look back at the last decade as we slide into an arbitrary marking of the passage of time and reflect on what I'd like to achieve in the next year.

Over the last decade I have gained a whole tribe of strong, supportive writer friends. Some I have been fortunate enough to meet up with in person, some are only virtual friends but without fail they have given me support and so many laughs. You know who you are, ladies, take a bow. Without this tribe I would have let my writing journey stall so many times. and I look forward to a year filled with more words and with the real possibility that I will get them out into the world to find their audience. So a huge thank you to everyone who touched my heart and picked me up over the last ten years.

This writing lark can be tough. It's often solitary, frequently frustrating but somehow we keep going. If, like me, you have stories in your head then they have to get told one way or another. So in 2020 I really want to find the audience for my stories. Whether this is through traditional publication or another route I do not know yet but there is sure to be a way to find my readers. I am also going to revive my previous idea of sharing some stories via a podcast. I have had some interest online from other writers who might like to share work this way so that is an avenue I intend to look into next month. Listen out for my dulcet Brummie tones!

I am also aware that during the past decade I have done my fair share of caring for others. That won't change, it's part of my DNA, but I do want to do more self care next year. I have found a couple of activities that will bring some creativity into each day and I hope to find some peace and fulfilment doing those. I also want to take better care of my health. Many years of putting others first is starting to take its toll and as the years advance I see the need to nurture myself a bit more. I am overhauling my diet in view of the spectre of diabetes and my fitness needs so improve as well. Baby steps are being taken and I hope to improve things further next year.

So I wish all who I love a fabulous 2020 filled with joy, peace and success. I raise a virtual glass to you all and look forward to celebrating all our achievements next year.

Getting on the Submission Train

One of the things I promised myself - and others - at the last writing retreat I attended was that I'd start submitting my manuscript to agents and test the waters. So far I have managed one submission a week and got one rejection so far. But I am asking myself some deep questions. And I thought I'd share them here.

Do I really want to be traditionally published?
Well, the fact that I'm sending off my queries to agents would suggest that I do. I have fantasies about wandering into bookshops and seeing my book on the shelf. Not on the best sellers shelf, just quietly on one of the shelves. I pick up a copy, stroke the spine and stare at my name on the cover. Pride swells in my chest and I wipe away a tear - well this is a fantasy... So I think having a physical book on sale in a shop is the ultimate goal for me.

What if I can't get it published?
Being realistic I know that getting representation is tough and getting a publishing deal is almost tougher. So with my practical hat on I know that I may have to pursue other ways of getting the story out into the world. And here I think I'm open to the world of self publishing. I also know that the burden of publicity weighs heavily on a self published author but I think I'm ok with that. So as one door closes, who knows what opens.

Why is it important that my stories get out into the world?
I think everyone who writes does so for an audience other than themselves. The goal is to share what you have written, to let others enjoy your stories. And here I fall down because I promised that I would share some of my work via a podcast and I confess that I have done nothing to make that happen. So maybe that is a way I can share some of my work, maybe I need to be more focused next year and make it happen ...

So that is where I am as I send my letters and samples out into the world, wondering what I am doing it all for and crossing my fingers for positive reactions.