Tag Archives: #amwriting

A Tad Frazzled….

What gets you through the day? What gets you through the week or the month? How do you cope?

I found myself pondering this thought while I was out for a walk at lunchtime today.

After a rather stressful morning, I’d messaged friend saying simply, “What a morning! Frazzled.”

 Until recently I hadn’t really thought of “frazzled” being a legitimate state of mind.  I picked up a copy of Ruby Wax’s “A Mindfulness Guide For The Frazzled.” I’ve barely started it, only dipped in and out of it briefly, but in her foreword, Ms Wax explains “A neurobiologist might say someone is stuck in a state of “frazzle”. They mean that, for this person, constant stress is overloading their nervous system, flooding it with cortisol and adrenaline.”

The Urban Dictionary definition sums it up nicely – “to be feeling a bit brain-fried; lost and confused; not functioning properly; slightly stressed; all over the place.”

That pretty much sums up how I felt just after midday today, although I wasn’t lost!

 I’m pretty sure each and every one of you can relate to having felt like this at some point.

 So how do I cope? How do I “de-frazzle” myself? (There’s a few strategies been put into play here already)

 For me, the best coping strategy for during the working week is to make sure I take my lunch break and, weather permitting, get outside for some fresh air, coupled with some therapeutically loud music courtesy of my iPod. It works for me. (Messaging a sympathetic friend helps too.) Recharges the batteries long enough to get me through the rest of the day.

 So what coping mechanisms work for you? 

Others that I use include writing (yes, the thought of writing this blog while enjoying a medicinal bacon sandwich eased me through the afternoon), colouring in (art therapy to give it its adult name), listening to music, reading a book, going for a walk along the nearest beach, playing with the cats or simply enjoying a long hot shower.

I’m sure there are many more but these are my “go to” strategies.

There are no hard and fast rules here. What works for one person won’t necessarily work for another and, yes, there are occasions where professional assistance may be required. There’s nothing wrong about seeking help when you need it. 

One final thing that helps reset my frayed nerves is photography. Looking through the world from the view finder of my camera or the camera screen of my phone helps to see the world around me in a different light.

It helps if the view is stunning too!frazzled-view

Celtic Re-connections

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This may surprise some of you who are more familiar with my usual musical tastes but I have a soft spot in my heart for Celtic music.

It’s not all about “heedrum hodrum” shortbread tin music but it’s about the Celtic music I grew up with. From the traditional tunes my dad played on his tin whistle like Soldier’s Joy, always tripping up over the same wee bit, to the Gaelic songs my Wee Gran would recall from her youth such as Fear A Bhata.

If you were to cast your eyes over the CD collection on my shelves you might be surprised by the mix of music. Yes, you could easily find Capercaillie nestled between Iron Maiden and Vivaldi. I kid you not!

I first saw Capercaillie play live as part of Glasgow’s Celtic Connections festival more than twenty years ago and their album from that time Secret People frequently finds its way into the CD player.

When I saw that the band’s leading lady, Karen Matheson, was playing a rare solo show at The Beacon Arts Centre in Greenock, I was keen to be there. Cue and exchange of text messages with a music loving friend (remember Miss Rose Wine from my trip to see Chris Cornell) and a visit to the box office. Yes, sometimes folk do still buy tickets at the box office instead of ordering online.

I was surprised when we arrived at the theatre last Thursday evening that it wasn’t busier. (The last time I had heard Karen Matheson sing she’d sold out the Royal Concert Hall in Glasgow, some 2500 seats) As we took our seats in The Beacon it was a little sad to see less than 200 seats filled. Lack of advertising? Poor advertising?

Fara were first out on stage. Four young ladies from the Orkney Islands – three fiddles and a piano. These talented musicians played with a youthful enthusiasm and passion that soon had the audience on side. Their lilting Orkney accents stole our hearts as they told the stories behind the tunes that they played and sang. They added an element of humour too. One song that they played was titled The Dragon. The composer had apparently written it for his wife! They also played a homage to the band’s favourite tipple- Cheeky Vimto*. Their infectious energy had the audience engaged enough o sing along enthusiastically to the chorus of Games People Play.

These young ladies are a breath of fresh air to Celtic fiddle music.

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After a short interval it was time for Ms Matheson to take to the stage. As it had been so long since I’d last heard her sing live there was a wee nagging voice in my head wondering if her voice would still be as fantastic. It is! She has a beautiful voice.

She stepped out on stage with four fellow musicians, who’s instruments included guitar, piano, accordion, mandolin and cello (It must be something about Miss RoseWine’s company- the last show we saw featured a cellist too!)

For eighty minutes or so we were treated to a haunting if slightly melancholy set comprising of some of Rabbie Burns songs but mainly her own solo material. Most of the songs were sung in Gaelic and, despite not understanding a word of it, the music spoke for itself. The speed at which she can sing some of the complex Gaelic lyrics has to be heard to be believed.

Like the girls in Fara before her, Karen Matheson told the audience the stories behind some of the songs and of her childhood singing at ceilidhs.

Karen Matheson ended her set with a single song encore, Ae Fond Kiss, another Burns classic.

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Usually when I leave a show there’s a wee buzz- ok a big buzz – inside me at the thrill of what I’ve just experienced. (Yes and the ears are usually ringing too!)

As Miss RoseWine and I walked slowly back to the car there was an air of calm, a sense of serenity.

Maybe I’m more Scottish at heart then I gave myself credit for. There was a wee warm glow inside me, a little lightning bug of pleasure, where the Celtic music had touched not only my heart but my soul.

 

 

*Cheeky Vimto -Mix together a bottle of WKD with 50ml of Port and 25ml of Vodka  – apparently tastes just like Vimto.

Images source via Google

Videos sourced via You Tube

Colours of Emotion

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Its been a long time since I’ve delved into my two small poetry journals. It’s been a long time since I wrote any poetry. As I was reading through my collection I stumbled across this one and thought I’d share it with you.

Colours of Emotion

 

Hate- so strong an emotion

So small a word.

Spoken filled with red fury.

Each letter’s edge sharpened like steel

Words hard to retract.

 

Respect –  steady and calm

Blue like a still deep lagoon

It takes time to reach its depths

Once earned its easy to let slip away

 

Trust – fragile and thread like.

Silvery shimmer. A dew soaked web.

Each fibre strong but break one

And it all comes tumbling down.

 

Love – white and creamy.

Reminiscent of fresh milk.

Warm at first. Pure.

Easily curdles through time

And mistreatment.

 

Red, blue, silver and white

The emotional colours of my tarnished life.

 

 

14/01/12

3.4 cats ….yes we have a new arrival

I don’t very often mention in my blog posts that, apart from The Big Green Gummi Bear, Boy Child and Girl Child, I share the house with three fur babies. Well it was three until recently!

We are now a 3.4 feline family!

Yes- we have a new addition to the household. A little grey and white kitten who belongs to Girl Child.

The Big Green Gummi Bear struck a deal with Girl Child several months ago that depending on achieving certain grades in her SQA exams, she could get a kitten. Girl Child kept her end of the bargain. Cue MAJOR kitten hunting. I think in the space of 24 hours she sent me more photos of kittens than I had seen in my previous forty some years! And yes, all of them were very cute.

After a short but thorough search, we found her future fur baby. Cue more emails and photo exchanges and Hey Presto before we knew it we were all in the car  heading to the far side of Glasgow to collect said fur baby.

Part of the deal Girl Child had struck with her father surrounded the naming of said fur baby. He has named the last two cats who have come to live with us. We have Pythagoras a huge ginger and white tom cat and Frankenstein, a Birman tabby who looks like two different cats stitched together. The third and oldest fur baby, is my big black fluffball. My boy names Sioux.  

So what name had been chosen for this tiny grey and white baby?

Stinky!

It has proved to be an apt name!

Less than five minutes into the hour long journey home, this tiny bundle of fur pooped in the cat carrier. Stinky it most certainly was!

Like Sioux many years before him, Stinky’s introduction to his new home involved a bath to remove the poop! Poor wee fur baby. What a soggy start to life in his new forever home.

Having been dried off and cuddled, we introduced him to the litter tray and to his dinner bowl. And that was the one and only time we required to complete that lesson. At nine weeks old, Stinky figured it all out and there were no puddles and no little “stinky” bundles left anywhere for us. I was really impressed that this little guy had it figured out so fast.

Move on a few hours and it was time to introduce him to the first of his big furry brothers. Sioux is the most gentle and tolerant of the three older cats so we introduced him first.

When he saw the kitten, I swear that cat rolled its eyes at me as if to say “Are you kidding me? Another one?”  He was not impressed. There was no aggression. No anger. Just sheer terror when the kitten ran towards him! We kept a close eye on them and a truce appeared to have been reached. So far so good.

Next morning there was a queue at the back door waiting to come in for breakfast. Frankenstein was at the head of the queue. Well it was now or never…I let him in as Stinky danced round my feet. (Frankenstein is quite aggressive normally with other cats and it took a long time for him to settle in here.) Frankenstein eyed the kitten suspiciously. Stinky ran towards him. Frankenstein’s ears went back and he crouched down and hissed at the newcomer. To my utter amazement Stinky did the same. Frankenstein legged it and disappeared upstairs as fast as his paws would carry him. 700g of kitten had just stood its ground against 4kg of cat!

Pythagoras came in a short while later. He’s the biggest of the three at 6kg but isn’t the bravest. Again the kitten ran to greet him. Pythagoras bolted into the kitchen and up onto the table with a look in his eye that screamed “Save me!”

And that’s pretty much the way it has been for the past ten days.

The kitten is ruling the roost!

And it’s not just the Fur Brothers that Stinky has full control over. He’s done the same to the humans who live here too. Yes, even the Big Green Gummi Bear! Countless hours have been spent playing with, cuddling him and just simply watching him. He is a tiny ball of fluff but he’s a HUGE distraction.

He’s irresistible. (Yes, I know I’m biaised)

I will say though, he is not good for creative progress. My poor Book Baby 3 has suffered twice already at his tiny paws. He danced across my laptop and reformatted the entire document. Sheer skill as he managed feats on Word that I have zero knowledge of! The next night he danced across the keyboard and deleted over 300 hundred words. Let’s say I was less than impressed by those dance moves.

But then he looked at me with that cute wee face and those huge blue eyes and purred…..and all was forgiven!StinkyStinky 2fur babies

Another Day, Another Season, Another Web Cam…

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It’s been a busy couple of weeks in the “real” world so apologies for the lack of a proper blog post here last week.

There just aren’t enough hours in the day just now!

Now that the household has resumed “normal” chaos levels, a sense of routine is returning to the world. (Although it has been disrupted once more over the past few days by the arrival of a small feline ball of fluff – more about him another day)

In the creative grand scheme of things, Book Baby 3 has been my primary focus. Since I started typing up my handwritten manuscript (makes it sound very proper ..tee hee… pile of tatty scrawled notebooks is closer to the truth!), time and seasons have been getting confused!

In the “real” world I’ve been enjoying early evening sunshine and warmth. In the Book Baby 3 world., I’m in the depths of an icy winter. While in my “real” world my brain has been thinking all things “back to school” (for the final time) for Girl Child, my creative brain has been thinking Christmas and New Year’s Eve parties. (Ironic as I really don’t like New Year’s Eve)

Is it any wonder that I sometimes feel as though I’m losing the plot entirely here!

Adjusting to the different times and seasons of writing is something I struggle with to an extent. I can’t think Christmas in July and I can’t think hot summer beach days in January.

That’s where the internet comes into its own. Google is a Godsend!

Need to picture the beach in January when in reality it’s the height of summer? As Google and voila-  a host of grey stormy beach scenes, flooded boardwalk and dark clouds.

Need to visualise Rockefeller Plaza on Christmas Eve? Google is only too happy to oblige.

I’ve said before, Street View has been a life save on many occasions.

The internet also keeps the “real” memories of the places I write about in the Silver Lake series very much alive thanks to some live time views. I love web cams!

Over time I’ve found several web cams that keep it all alive for me. I have a good memory and a mind full of precious memories but it’s been over four years since I’ve been to some of my key locations.

Yes, I can close my eyes and daydream myself there in a split second but some of the sharpness is starting to go on these daydreams. A few have become tarnished over the years.

There’s one web cam, well two really, that keep my beach memories fresh.

It also keeps me sane.

If I’ve had a tough day or am feeling a little low, then a real time virtual view of my favourite beach is only a mouse click away. (I’ll confess, the tab is always open on my laptop)

Anyone that follows my Twitter/Facebook will be familiar with the views I’m talking about. I may have screenshotted one or two of them!

I can watch the sun rise; I can watch the sun bake down on the powdery sand; I can watch the waves pound in on the shore; I can watch the sun set (if I stay up late enough!)

If it’s a miserable dreich day in Scotland, I can click and, as if by magic, I can enjoy a few minutes of virtual beach sunshine.

Sometimes its also nice to be reminded it can rain there as well. In fact, in real life, when I first returned to visit Rehoboth, after a gap of twenty four years, it was pouring with rain! We were all soaked to the skin within minutes. The five of us trooped into Hooters for lunch, dripping all over the floor! Happy, if soggy, memories.

Want to see this view for yourself? Just a glimpse? Here – take a look

http://www.rehobothbeachfever.com/rehoboth-beach-webcam.html#.V73tIY-cHuj

 

http://www.atlanticsandshotel.com/default.aspx?pg=webcam

 

While you enjoy a few blissful moments at my favourite beach, I’d better get back to my typing marathon. Book Baby 3 ain’t gonna type itself!

 

 

Due to a technical fault….

bbc2_testcard_illustration_bDue to a technical fault….no blog post this week….Blame the real world for this temporary interference. Normal service will resume shortly.

 

image soured via Google/credits to the owner

Silently Watching At Sunrise

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Early morning shadows hid the fallen angel in the trees that grew beside the picnic tables. There was a still a chill in the air. She drew her majestic black wings around her for warmth. Her throat felt parched. It had been weeks since she had last fed; months since she had last enjoyed some warm, viscous human blood.

Killing a mortal was always high risk. Hunger and desire had caused her to be careless last time. She should’ve taken time to carry the body off instead of discarding it in the dried leaves on the pavement.

She’d heard the shrill shrieks of the dog walker who had discovered the man’s body not long after she had abandoned it. Damn dog!

Well, she’d taken care of it a week or so later. Dog owners were sloppy. The angel had watched, biding her time, until the chocolate brown Labrador was off its lead, running ahead of its slow middle aged owner. The dog’s death had been swift. It had barely whimpered as she had bitten deep into its jugular vein. By the time the owner had caught up, the angel had drained every last drop from the beloved family pet and swooped up into the trees out of sight. She had laughed at the woman’s wails of grief for the dead canine lying on the pavement.

Her attention was brought back to the present as she watched the woman cross the road, heading towards her. The angel had been studying her early morning routine for a few weeks, working out where and when to strike. The woman’s erratic fitness regime had frustrated her. Never the same day two weeks in a row; never the same number of outing s a week; always the same time to within a minute or two. Close surveillance had warned the angel of the routine of others who walked and ran along that section of road so early in the morning.

There was one obvious window of opportunity. It came when the woman finished her run. When she returned to the small secluded picnic spot, she sat down at one of the tables to catch her breath for a moment or two before tackling the steep hill back to her home. She only took a seat though if the sun was shining.

Hunger was forcing the angel to take a dangerous but calculated risk by stepping out into the direct sunlight. For the sake of savouring the sweet ferrous female blood, she was prepared to risk singeing her precious wings. There were only so many rabbits and sheep and deer that she could stomach. Her recent starvation diet had left her feeling desiccated; feeling unfeminine. It was this fact that had decided her that she needed to feast on female hormone filled blood on this occasion.

Calmly, she waited in the shadows for her prey to return. Patiently, she counted the dog walkers, ensuring they all passed her oblivious to her presence. The other two regular early morning joggers also passed, heading out towards the lighthouse

The minutes ticked steadily by.

Silently, she watched the woman approach. There was a sheen of sweat on her forehead. Her cheeks were scarlet, reddened by the effort, and she was breathing heavily. The angel’s nostrils twitched as she tasted the hormone soaked blood in the air around her.

Just as she had hoped, the worn out woman took a seat at the end of the bench in the sun, gasping for air.

Spreading her wings, ready to swoop, the angel suddenly froze to the spot.

The air was filled with a familiar ferrous infused male musk. A scent she had only dreamed about over recent weeks. A perfume that she hadn’t lusted after since her last human meal.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Rhythmic light footsteps were approaching rapidly. He was still a hundred meters or more away. Already her sensitive ears could hear that infernal music that he listened to.

Faced with a choice, she hesitated. Male or female? Decisions. Decisions….

Fate intervened.

Hearing the footsteps, the woman scrambled to her feet and darted across the road out of sight before he reached the picnic area.

Silently, seething with hungry frustration, the dark angel watched as he ran by. Oh how she yearned to sink her fangs into his veins. He was a meal to be lingered over and savoured, not a dinner to be rushed through greed. Like a fine wine, his blood would be sipped until she felt intoxicated by it.

With a soft sigh that could easily have been mistaken for the breeze wafting through the leaves, the angel drew her purple tipped wings around her once more and settled in the shadows to wait for her next opportunity to dine.

 

 

image sourced via Google- credits to the owner

Post Staycation 2016 Book Baby blues…sorry, news

Staycation 2016 is already a fading memory (After ten minutes back in the salt mine on Monday morning, before I’d even got half way down my first coffee of the day, it had faded.)

My primary goal for my Staycation was to finish the first draft of Book Baby 3. To return to my previous pregnancy analogy, I feel like I’ve been expecting this one forever. When I went back and checked, I started to write it just over two years ago, 22 June 2014 to be exact (although one scene was written in December 2013) If this had been a pregnancy I think I’m just about to deliver an elephant! It may well prove to be a tome of a book!

However, after my labour of love, by the end of week one, my mission had been accomplished and I finally had a completed first draft in my hands. Hallelujah!!

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It’s a surreal feeling this time around as I’ve already taken the decision to “park” the Silver Lake series after this one.

Don’t panic Jake fans – he’ll be back! There’s a plan in my mind – well two actually- but I’m not giving anything away just yet. It’s very early days but the notebooks have been bought.

Now I’m facing a marathon labour with Book Baby 3 as I type up my handwritten scrawls and edit and proofread and spellcheck and grammar check……I wonder how much caffeine and Pinot Grigio this is going to take?

Watch this space!

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So what about my first two Book Babies? Are they behaving themselves?

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Well both of them are quietly ticking over – too quietly for my liking (quiet children always arouse my suspicions)- but they’re out there making their way in this big bad world. Both of them are 5* students on Amazon.co.uk. Both have earned great reviews on Amazon.com. I really can’t complain.

No one’s told me my babies are ugly so there’s a blessing.

Self-promotion is not something that comes naturally to me but I’ve been doing my best.

Last weekend I bit the bullet and recorded a short video clip for You Tube to help promote Book Baby 1- Stronger Within. Lord that was nerve wracking!

Trust me, I am not a natural narrator!

It took several takes to get an acceptable version recorded for posterity.

I hate listening to myself. Cringing, I played it back. Oh Lord, I sound SO Scottish! Guess that is only natural as I am Scottish.

Hey ho, its another way to get some free promotion so feel free to go in, listen (laugh if you feel the urge) but please share the video with the world.

Once I regroup my nerves and manage to get the house to myself for an hour so that it’s all quiet, I’ll maybe try a second video to promote Book Baby 2 – Impossible Depths …..or then again…..

Well, I’ve thousands of words needing my undivided attention so I guess I’d better get typing!

#BondedSouls #amwriting #amtyping

As Staycation 2016 draws to a close….time to reflect

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OK a bit of a cheat’s post but I’m sure you’ll forgive me.

The above collage sums up Staycation 2016 – bare feet, coffee, cinnamon bagels, writing, some typing (yes, I’ve begun the typing marathon that will become Bonded Souls …eventually!), a couple of cocktails, some photography, some great live music and , of course, several pairs of Converse!

 

Mentally elsewhere…..

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normal blog services will resume when my mind returns to the here and now…..it may be some time! #amwriting

 

images sourced via Google – credits to the owners