Still scribbling……


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all over what I’ve written.

Usually as a result of the trail of thought wandering off into the dark. Thought stalls, steam erupts from the ears, and my hand scribbles all over the page, balls it up and propels it at the bin.

There’s a lot of screwed up balls of paper by my bin, my aim is terrible.

Why is it inspiration occurs when you can’t get to a pen. The perfect sentence pops into your head while driving, or sitting in the dentist chair. Try as you might to hold, that, thought, it runs away when your fingers touch a pen.

All you can do is wave as it vanishes!

Maybe it will pop back and visit, hopefully right now while I’m at the computer……… or maybe it won’t!


Patterns on the page


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No they’re not patterns they’re words; coherent words, on a page.

Time, the one thing there is never enough of. Well today I had some time on my own, my partner on the late shift, our son off to his friends after school. I arrived home from work to a silence that was full of promise; time, seconds and minutes stretching into uninterrupted hours, just for me and my imagination, me and my mind.

I’d planned to practice some writing exercises, doodling the afternoon away. Instead I’ve filled several pages on my allusive character; my witch’s father, the sorcerer.

I don’t think there are adjectives enough to describe how good it feels; unblocking that wall.

His part is becoming clear, his story coming to light. So many mini stories I seem to have written, one for each character. Some short, others long, and all waiting patiently like squares for a quilt, waiting to be stitched together, for the words to be woven into the full story.

I’m enjoying it too, even though I’ve no clear idea how it ends the journey is proving enough.



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Today I spent an hour sat at my desk. I had sat with the best intentions to get something, anything, written. But not one word materialised. Nothing.

The appearance of a character, that I had at first believed to be quite minor, is in fact a major. The protagonists dad, who she has never met, is a witch; and male witches are very rare in my fictional world. Since his appearance I have been trying  to discover his story- how he came into her mothers life, what happened to him, what he has to do with the story in the here and now- all simple questions, yet I have nothing. Nada, ziltch.

What’s making it all the more frustrating is that the story has a whole seems to have stopped while I’m trying to figure this character out. The setting, characters and plot I’d been working on have upped and vanished from my mind like a fart in the wind. I hope it a temporary disappearance; that they are waiting patiently for me to figure this character out.

It’s a strange sensation though- like what I’m trying to say is on the tip of my tongue; or hiding just outside my peripheral vision. It’s there I just cannot get to it.

Maybe a large glass of wine may invigorate the imagination…………

Travelling uphill riding a downhill escalator….


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Getting nowhere.

Its taken me a while to accept that I am not the type of writer who can sit and write; write with words flowing onto a page like water from a tap. Words don’t mount on the page as my imagination whirls. No, I need the dots in place before I can join them. At the moment though there are great gaping spaces between the dots.

It’s infuriating.

2 weeks ago I had characters emerging almost daily, little connections were forming and the cogs beginning to fit together. Then……………it all stopped. 2 weeks, you may think, is not that long. But consider I’ve already spent 2 years getting to this stage. Yes progress has been made- I have an idea and a thickening collection of the characters profile sheets- yet something is missing, some point which brings it all together and I cannot see it- I get to a point in my tale and there it stops, so there I’ve stopped, now all the time I’m wondering what happens next, where is it going, what is the point of all that has happened.

Its like the ending is there but hiding from me. The story is building towards something, I just don’t know what. Well and truly stumped.

So here I am, venting. I’d love to hear how other wannabe novelist deal with this issue, if you’re out there, stop by, say hello………..

The mist is clearing….


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So, I’m not going to lie I am still somewhat confused by the Blogosphere. I have made a few posts which is cool, however I’ve not quite got the tags and categories straight in my mind. I have read, and enjoyed, a few blogs yet not managed to find my way back to them!  All a little embarrassing ;0)

But I am not going to be defeated. I have spent a little time reading the relevant books for Dummies, very helpful, and thinking about the types of things I want to Blog about.

SO here goes, a post that will be tagged and in a relevant category (I hope).

My plan is to talk about three different areas of my world. The first area is writing; I’m working on a novel. I say working instead of writing because  the only writing I seem to be doing is getting to know the characters and how they fit into the story as a whole. I’m finding it a daunting process, yet at the same time am making pigeon steps towards something half- decent. I hope to connect with other like- struggling novelist, even if it just to share a virtual wine and whine.

The second area involves my family. Me, my partner of the last 15 years and our 11 year old son. We live in Suffolk UK, and like the majority of families are constrained by finances when it comes to leisure and recreation activities. But we don’t like to be held back and try to find interesting and free things to do- which I plan to blog about too. Like our successful shark-tooth hunting exhibition- a post about this will follow however intend to add pictures so need to check software’s installed and that I can work it.

The third area will be the highs and lows of parenting a pre-teen- perhaps that all that needs to be said about that at the moment :0D

Here we go- am going to have a go at tagging- categories needs further reading-do i make up my own categories or is there a list of usable ones somewhere? any suggestions, advice, even just hello’s welcome…

Theatre Etiquette


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Last Saturday we went to the theatre to see Women In Black.  The audience however was a different matter entirely.

The play hadn’t even got to its second line when the rustling started, bags of sweets being opened, individual sweets being unwrapped. There was a small attempt to do this silently however instead of managing this feat they merely amplified the action. There was one part of the audience where it sounded like they succeeded to get through an entire picnic. And as if the rustling wasn’t enough, the phist of fizzy bottles opening joined the party followed by a chorus of coughing.All of this combined became an annoying distraction from the live action on the stage. 

At the interval I had a little moan to my partner who replied by reminding me that we were at the matinee- does this make a difference? Is there some law of theatre going that I was unaware of, where at a matinee you are able to make as much noise as you wish?

Although it didn’t ruin the play for me, it has become the talking point of the experience. I’d like to add that everyone I have mentioned it to let out a groan and agreed that there is nothing more frustrating- this made me feel a little less of a moaning minnie!

Before the play began a voice came over the PA system asking everyone to ensure all mobiles were turned off- as even the buzzing of vibrate mode can be distracting for the actors, how I wish they had mentioned leaving sweets until the interval or if you are that in need of a drink please bring water- there’s no sound effects when a bottle of water is opened!

I was secretly hoping, throughout the first half, that the actors would also find the noise a distraction and incorporate an audience reprimand within the play. ‘she is dead then sir’ ‘yes, died from sheer annoyance at the rudeness of her audience, rustling their sweets like they were at the cinema’.

I think that would have solved the problem nicely.

Dishwasher, oh dishwasher, the arguments you’ve not changed….


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The chore of washing up was cause for many a heated word within my household. My partner would complain that he had washed up all day at work (he had a bistro/bar thing and would wash up the glassware), he would make such a big deal out of it that I would end up on my own in the kitchen muttering into the bubbles. Or he would say ‘leave it I’ll do it tomorrow.’ I managed 2 days before I caved and ran a sink of soapy suds for tomorrow really never comes.

I would complain, and my partner would always, always, say that if we had a dishwasher there would be no issue; ‘we’d load it through the day and then stick it at night’. His argument was very convincing.

So we bought a dishwasher. A beautiful, shiny silver dishwasher. 

However the novelty soon wore off. I think it lasted maybe a week, when every bowl or cup used would be placed straight in the dishwasher. We would get put on at night after we had chatted over the loading of it. Bliss.


Cups, bowls, plates get left back on the side in the kitchen. The question ‘are you going to help me with the washing up’ has morphed into ‘who’s turn is it to load the dishwasher?’ The answer…always mine. I now load it automatically when I take my plate out after dinner. I automatically empty it when I rise in the morning.

When asked my partner classes himself as a modern man, yet the chores still fall to me. He works full time, yet I work too, every morning I leave the house at 8am, after making the off- springs lunch, ensuring he has checked his timetable and packed the right books, ensuring he has had breakfast. By the time I get to work it feels like lunch time!

Seems that the old fashioned idea of the women’s role in the home has not changed, however much men protest at being modern.

Ah I can now hear the bell, he’ll be wanting his tea, excuse me while I put on my pinny….the things we do for an easy life ;0)

Missed me?


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It has been a few weeks since my last blog post. But it would be a lie to say my absence has been because I have been to preoccupied with exciting possibilities. I have not been off exploring tropical destinations. Nor have I been anywhere of note here in England. Noe have I (I’m most ashamed to admit) been grasped by creativity and knuckled down in a furious flurry of fingers to knock out the novel.

No my absence has been due to the great delight that is a poorly household. First my partner, then our son, and finally me- yet in a lesser dose! Coughs, colds, sore heads, achy limbs, it dragged on for weeks. In fact my partner has still not fully recovered, of course he hasn’t done anything as useful as visiting the Dr. No instead he prefers to complain and expect me to be overjoyed at the prospect of waiting on him.

If we were married we would be heading for divorce!

I’m going off topic. So nearly 2 weeks have passed, yet I have barely noticed. I was quite shocked that today turned out to be Wednesday- always a bonus when you had thought it was Tuesday. A commiseration though- had you thought it was Thursday!

Wednesday, hump day, how did it get to Wednesday? In part I blame myself, I so look forward to crawling back into bed- almost as soon as I’ve crawled out of it- that I’m just wishing time away.  If this were true though the weekend would go much slower!

Get through the day, then it the following day and you want to get through that one too.  It quite the depressing thought.

I would love to delve further however my presence is required over the cooker!!

Hopefully I wont be away quite so long.