Tag Archives: #blogging

NaNoWriMo – when inspiration strikes.

November is National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo).

The challenge is to commit to writing  50 000 words during the month of November.

I’ll be honest, I considered taking up the challenge then consulted my own planned writing schedule, my social calendar, my “real work” commitments and laughed….not a snowball’s hope in hell!

It has got me thinking though – seldom a good thing!

It’s got me thinking about the prompts that inspire people to write.

As I’m currently knee-deep in Book Baby 3, I don’t have a huge amount of time to write anything new but a part of me is already looking ahead. There’s this wee voice whispering in my ear, “What’s next?”

I have a reasonable idea of “what’s next” after Book Baby 3 and the prompts have come from the Silver Lake series (no more hints!)

However, what other prompts do writers use to trigger their creative juices?

If, like me, you follow some of the writing pages on social media, you will have seen that they have been flooded with well-intentioned prompts over the past few days.

 

There are whole websites dedicated to providing prompts for aspiring writers. There are literally thousands of inspirational ideas on Pinterest and Tumblr. There are apps available to download to your phone dedicated to prompts.

It would seem there’s a whole creative writing business that’s centred on providing assistance to generate more creative writing ideas.

I may use some of the prompts I’ve stumbled across recently at some point in the future. Never say never and all that.

Another method to prompt a tale or two is to keep a file of random photos. This was a method one of my high school English teachers used. He kept a manila folder full of magazine pictures, newspaper photos and postcards. Every now and again we were asked to pick one then go forth and write an essay inspired by it.

I used this method for a while and, in fact, only recently rediscovered my “inspiration folder” from twenty some years ago.

In recent years, I’ve used more personal prompts – song lyrics that struck a chord, memories of a particular place, throw away comments from friends. While I’d never deliberately create a fictional character that mirrors someone in my “real world”, there are character traits manifesting themselves in my book babies. My own character traits as well as those of friends and family. One example of that is Lori from the Silver Lake Series’ ideal breakfast of a toasted cinnamon raisin bagel, streaky bacon and coffee is my own personal favourite breakfast.

Daydreams also inspire some of my shorter pieces of fiction.

I guess that’s what makes someone a writer – not that I am claiming any great literary ability here, let’s get that straight.

I write primarily for enjoyment and relaxation. It is my stress reliever at the end of a day. It’s my escape from the real world. It’s a huge bonus if other people happen to enjoy the tales that I spin.

Now I wonder….can I squeeze in time to write 50 000 words of a new story by 30 November?……..

images source from Google

More information on NaNoWriMo can be found at http://www.nanowrimo.org

 

Silently Watching On All Hallows Eve

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Another summer had come and gone. Safe in the abandoned mausoleum the dark angel had been biding her time.

The small village had been in mourning throughout the summer months following the unexplained disappearance of two young waitresses from the local hotel. Both girls had left work at the same time together late one evening. Neither of them had been seen alive again; neither of them had been seen since. A local runner had found a mobile phone belonging to one of them near the entrance to the cemetery and, a few feet away, the Radley purse belonging to the other girl. Nothing else had ever been traced.

As the sun set on a late October evening, the angel stretched her wings, stepped daintily over the desiccated remains of her last two victims and ventured out of the mausoleum. The youthful fertile feminine blood of the two waitresses had restored her strength. With her vitality fully recovered, the dark angel was ready to resume her hunt.

Noise from the nearby church hall disrupted her train of thought.

Effortlessly she spread her magnificent black wings and flew silently through the trees. Discretely perched on the hall’s roof, hidden from prying eyes by the shadow of the trees, she watched as a group of mothers, some in costume, shepherded a dozen or more children, all in fancy dress, out of the building.

“All Hallows Eve,” she thought as she admired some of the costumes. “How sweet would the blood of a child be!”

Licking her crimson lips, the angel watched as the mothers chaperoned the children as they set off guising through the village. In her cold heart, much as she desired it, the angel knew there were fruits that were forbidden even to her.

Flexing her wings, she prepared to head off to the nearby farm estate in search of an alternative meal when her nostrils detected a welcome aroma. Her senses heightened as the ferrous musk mixed with sweat wafted along on the light autumn breeze.

A rhythmic thud thud, thud filled her ear and was then drowned out by music, if you could call it that. How could he bear that infernal racket in his ears?

A second lighter set of footsteps echoed round, accompanied by lighter more melodic music.

There were two of them.

Glancing up the hill, she watches the two runners approach.

A wicked smile played on her lips.

As the two men drew level with the church hall’s driveway, the angel spread her wings and rose soundlessly in flight.

For almost an hour she followed them, soaring high above, keeping close to the tree line where possible as they pounded their way through the marina, along the beach footpath then back towards the village along the busy coast road.

Darkness had long since fallen. Using it to camouflage her, the angel risked flying lower and closer. His heavenly perfume was arousing her every sense. If only he was alone…..

Eventually their route brought them back to the village and, breathing heavily, the weary athletes began to head up the steep hill towards the church.

As they reached the fork in the road, they parted company – one ran straight on up the hill; the other, the source of her desires, ran along the single track road past the cemetery where he’d found the dead girls’ belongings.

She could see the veins in his neck pulsing, teasing her desire to finally taste his rich blood. Could this be her ideal opportunity?

In the distance she could hear the guisers and their chaperones coming down the road, Torchlight was flickering up ahead as they drew closer with every step.

It was now or never.

Silently she dropped down onto the road a few feet in front of him. Spreading her black, purple  tipped wings, she sighed as he slowed in his progress towards her. The beads of sweat on his brow shone like pearls in the moonlight. Feeling an uncontrollable lust stirring deep within her, she licked her lips. Their eyes met.

“Great costume,” he gasped as he was almost within her reach.

She rocked onto the balls of her slender feet, preparing to feast at last on his blood.

Suddenly, out of the darkness a cry shattered the moment.

“Daddy!”

The footsteps of a child were thundering rapidly down the dark road towards them.

“Soon,” hissed the angel, still staring into the depths of his soul.

With one strong beat of her magnificent wings, she vanished into the night.

Cluttered Confessions….

Confession time – I am quite a cluttered person.

Over the years, my tendency to live in a cluttered world compared to the Big Green Gummi Bear’s tendency to neatness have led to a few heated exchanges.

Simple fact – I like my things around me to create my comfort zone.  I’m possibly borderline at hoarding certain things too, if I’m being honest. I like to keep things that I have an emotional attachment to but even I have to acknowledge that every now and then a cull of the clutter is required.

Usually there’s a catalyst to this and this time round it’s been no different. We decided to overhaul the bedroom (new flooring, new bed etc- cue expedition to Ikea)

The Big Green Gummi Bear said that the free-standing triple wardrobe had to go to create more space in the room and decreed that I needed to make space in the fitted wardrobe for his belongings…GULP!!!

That wardrobe hasn’t been properly cleared out in over ten years (hangs head in shame).

Hanging space was dealt with relatively painlessly. Most of my summer clothes and some of my other outfits have been packed into suitcases and, for me, I was ruthless in what I added to the charity bag. (OK, I confess, I kept the dress I’ve had since I was 16 but I love it and it still fits.)

Two or three bags made their way to the charity shop.

Part one of the mission was accomplished and the Big Green Gummi Bear moved his clothes into “my” wardrobe.

Part two involved tackling the “stuff” stashed at the bottom of the wardrobe and the treasure that were weighing down the top shelf. (There’s a huge amount of space in this TARDIS of a wardobe)

In the midst of this wardrobe mission, I was given a side assignment. I had to clear out three chests of drawers (well about six drawers across the three sets.)

All this upheaval was sending my stress levels soaring!

I felt like I was being hauled out of my comfort zone by the hair!

“Get a grip, girl!”

Over a few evenings, I dealt with the drawers. It was a trip down memory lane as I found countless old photos, theatre programmes, handmade cards from the kids, letters from my penfriends dating back years (yes, folk used to put pen to paper and write actual letters to each other). I had no choice but to be ruthless and, much as it almost killed me, I had to bin several black bags worth of memories. The photos I kept…and most of the theatre programmes…and the occasional handmade card from the kids.

Now to the wardrobe……I was dreading that task!

I had a few days holiday from work pre-arranged for this week so I decided to tackle the bottom of the wardrobe on Monday and the top shelf on Tuesday.

Trying to keep my anxiety at binning things in check, I split the stuff into bundles-

Keep

Bin

Donate to charity

Progress was hampered by the willing assistance of Girl Child’s kitten, Stinky. He felt the need to explore every bag and every box and every corner of the wardrobe at least a dozen times!

The bottom of the wardrobe generated four black bags of rubbish (See, I was being strict with myself, Big Green Gummi Bear), two more bags for charity and a huge pile of personal papers to be destroyed. (Over ten years’ worth of bills and bank statements!)

How to safely dispose of them? Still trying to work that out! It’s too big a job for our aging shredder. I tried burning some but that proved unsuccessful….hmm…more thought required on that conundrum.

Next morning, I got the stepladders out to tackle the top shelf. Stinky parked himself under the ladders to supervise. In fairness, the top shelf wasn’t too bad…..well, bad enough but not awful!

One of the hardest things to part with lay up there.

Don’t laugh, please. I’m about to get a bit sentimental here.

There was a large black holdall full of old baby/toddler clothes. It was a mix of Boy Child’s and Girl Child’s outfits, although largely hers. As I lifted them out to fold them up and put them into the charity bag, I could see them in each of the outfits. (Bear in mind he’s now almost 19 and she’s 16) I could smell the freshly bathed baby smell as I gave Boy Child’s tiny Tigger sleepsuit a final hug. Girl Child’s little denim dresses reminded me of her as a toddler, always busy at something. Her burgundy velvet tunic top and leggings that brought out the blue in her eyes….oh I could go on … I won’t. You get the picture, right? It seemed like only yesterday that I was dressing them in those clothes. Precious memories. I was an emotional wreck by the time the holdall was empty.

It generated another two bags for the charity shop.

After a couple of hours, I was done.

Mission accomplished.

A trip to the dump (sorry, recycling centre) took care of the five black bags of rubbish.

A trip into town to see my friend at the charity shop took care of the four bulky bags destined for there. (Huge thanks to the lovely lady who was passing and helped me to get the shop door open as I heaved the bags into the shop.)

So the bedroom and the wardrobe have been de-cluttered. It looks good. (Ok, there’s three small boxes of books and photos still to be put away in the loft sitting in a corner)

I think, slowly, my “roots” are uncurling and beginning to settle back into my comfort zone. Stress levels are gradually returning to normal.

I’ve made a deal with myself not to be so “cluttered” going forward. Will I manage to stick to it? Time will tell…..

 

Before..

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During

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After

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The Colours of Autumn

When did you last pause in your hectic day to look around you and appreciate the beauty of the Autumn colours?

They are spectacular!

Much as I love a hot sunny summer’s day, a crisp sunny Autumn day comes a close second. I was out for a meander at lunchtime today and that was when the variety of colours that Mother Nature has created for us really struck me.

The sun was hitting the leaves of the trees around the area where the salt mine is  and they were positively glowing gold. There were scarlet berries in the hedgerow. Some of the green plants and bushes were turning to their autumn orange and reds. Oh so pretty!

It’s as though we’re being treated to a last colourful display before the dark days of winter are upon us.

If you haven’t looked around you, here’s a few photos to remind you of what you are missing.

 

Gin Anyone?

When The Big Green Gummi Bear came home and said that he’d arranged for us to go to a gin tasting, I was somewhat surprised.

Neither of us drink gin!

However, having bought tickets for the event, it would’ve been rude not to.

I was a little unsure of what to expect as the date approached.

When we arrived at the boat club, our host for the evening had a long table set up beautifully with plastic martini glasses, each with a slice of fruit in it, divided into four groups – one for each type of gin he’s brought along for sampling.

(“Whew”, thought my inner self. Being a light weight when it comes to drinking alcohol, I thought, “I can cope with four small gins of an evening.”)

The event began with a brief history of the drink. I learned a few interesting facts.

Gin is the shortened form of the Old English word genever and derived from the Latin juniperus meaning juniper, one of the main constituents of the drink. Gin was originally drunk for its medicinal properties. It can be traced as far back as the Ancient Egyptians circa 1550BC and is mentioned in the Ebers Papyrus as being a remedy for stomach complaints. Roman historian Pliny the Elder also wrote about the therapeutic benefits of the juniper berry based spirit around 78AD.

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To bring things up-to-date, in the 17th Century the Dutch had developed a juniper based spirit and also begun to add other botanical ingredients to enhance the flavour. Dutch soldiers were given a measure of this drink to give them strength before they went into battle, hence the term “Dutch courage.”

Gin first grew in popularity in Britain in the mid-17th Century when William of Orange came to the throne and, if you’re not a fan of gin, you could argue, it all went downhill from there.

Gin was initially allowed to be distilled without a license. This resulted in a craze for the drink before The Gin Acts of 1736 and 1751 brought its production under stricter control.

Gin’s reputation as “Mother’s ruin” comes from this era too as women often made and sold gin in small quantities from their homes. William Hogarth produced a hard-hitting anti-gin engraving in 1751, Gin Lane. It contrasted with his engraving Beer Street which portrays beer as being better for you and your well-being.

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Gin enjoyed mixed fortunes as a drink right up until Prohibition. The price if spirits rocketed during Prohibition so in order to make a drink last longer, folk began to mix it with other things. Voila! – the gin based cocktail was born! The most common is of course the gin and tonic.

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So, what gins were on offer for us to taste.

There were four different botanical gin brands.

Blackwoods was the first on offer. A Scottish gin infused with handpicked Shetland botanicals. These gave it a citrusy taste. Not too unpleasant.

Brecon gin was next from the Brecon Beacons in Wales. This one was served to us with a strawberry in the bottom of the glass. It was distinctly different from the first. This one was my least favourite of the evening. It was too fruity and reminded me of cough medicine. The Big Green Gummi Bear’s face when he ate the gin-soaked strawberry was interesting though!

Boe gin from Stirling, Scotland was the third brand available for tasting. I was surprised to find a thin slice of apple in the glass. This one I liked! There was a cleaner slightly spiced taste to it. I could enjoy drinking this one (and the slice of apple was quite tasty too!)

Ophir was the final of the four brands. This one is branded as an oriental spiced gin and was most definitely the prettiest bottle. The taste here was more exotic, almost curry like. I preferred it to the first two brands but overall it was too bizarre a spiced flavour for my delicate tastebuds.

So, all four had been tasted and debated and enjoyed.

Have I been converted to being a gin drinker? Probably not, although we did enjoy a few a more from the club’s bar over the rest of the evening.

Something that did make me sit up and take note though was the announcement at the end of the tasting session that the gentleman would be back in a few months to do a prosecco and champagne tasting.

The Big Green Gummi Bear better get tickets for that one!

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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

You’ve Got Sixty Minutes…..clock’s ticking…

The challenge- you get offered the opportunity to host your own sixty  minute radio show to play ten of your favourite tunes, songs that reflect you musical tastes and who you are.

Sound easy?

In theory it is. If like me you listen to music  on a daily basis then you may already have several playlists set up on your iPod. In reality, its much harder.

Try it…go on…pick just ten songs.

Personally, my favourites can very depending on my mood so choosing a mere ten tracks from the thousands in my music library is far from easy.

So, trying not to over think this, if I was  to host said show today this,  in no particular order, would be the playlist –

1- Sweet Child O’ Mine by Guns n Roses

2 – Ghost by Massive

3-Ghosts Of Days Gone By by Alter Bridge

4- The Rambler by Black Stone Cherry

5- Where I’ve Been by Rival Sons

6- I’m Not An Angel- Halestorm

7- Simple Man by Shinedown

8- La Mano De Lucifer – Crobot

9- God & Satan by Biffy Clyro

10- Eden – The Mayfield Four

Ask me again tomorrow and the selection could look completely different!

videos sourced via You Tube

credits to the owners

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

Keeping All Of The Plates Spinning….just

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No, I’ve not been playing with the crockery or learning circus tricks but this week has been nothing short of bedlam. Weeks like this come along every once in a while and this one caught me unawares.

In the past friends and co-workers have said to me that they don’t know how I do “it” every week. I’m not sure what “it” is because I’m usually well organised to the point of being OCD about certain tasks.

I guess “it” is normal daily life and we all just have to get on with “it”- we don’t really have any choice at the end of the day.

Perhaps in an  average week I juggle a few more plates than some folk but that’s my choice (keeps me out of mischief!) but I’m human too.

So here we are at Thursday – half of my brain is saying “Surely it’s only Tuesday?” and the other half is saying “TFIF tomorrow!”

The “To Do” list is only part way ticked off.

All the “salt mine” plates are spinning away merrily, all the “mum” plates are hanging in there too, the social media/ fan page admin plates continue to spin, the Book Baby 3 plate had a wee wobble but has been rescued- whew!- the blog post plate….well…

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Something had to give….. I’m only human after all. 🙂

images sourced via Google