Night all,

Lou x

I used to be a prolific writer. I was writing monthly for a magazine (around 2010,, for a couple of years), I blogged at least weekly here and on my travel blog, and I participated in group and online writing challenges. I had (have!) a great idea for a work in progress, and I loved every minute of penning an idea and creating a story.

So why did I stop?

I guess that's a little unfair. I haven't stopped writing for fun/enterprise entirely. I still blog weekly for my baking business 280 Bakes and it's going great guns. However, the last post (aside from two in early March when I panicked and got keen again for a day) on my Born to be a Tourist travel blog was exactly a year ago, and on here, my poor writing/lifestyle blog has been severely neglected. The last post here was posted in May last year. Call myself a writer??

Well, actually I don't think I do call myself a writer any more.

I write. I do. I use my skills in writing all the time: I write emails every day, to people as diverse as my Grandma (catching up) to the Lord Mayor of Bristol (a VIP event invite for 280 Bakes), I write reports, minutes, emails in my 'day job' in an office in Bristol... I was praised yesterday, in fact, for my easy style of writing - which prompted this post.  Unfortunately though, it's just writing a shopping list that's missing from the list of things I seriously sit down and write. I just don't do creative writing much nowadays.

And it's not like I cut back consciously. It happened gradually perhaps, and time flew by; suddenly it had been months and years since I'd worked on anything bigger than a 500 word blog about cake.

I think my writing time was diminished for a number of reasons:

a) Life got busy. Busier. Married, a (new) full time job and a business to run on the side, a pup, living in a new town with things to discover, more financial responsibilities... all these things take up time, no matter how pleased I might be to welcome them into my life.

b) Moving from Northamptonshire, I left behind me an awesome writing group which I Chaired. The group was such an inspiration, and the discipline of having to write a short story or selection of poems each month was a real driver for creativity. The group is still going, I hear, I still miss it.

c) I think, honestly, I've moved on a little from writing, too. I felt a bit guilty about this for a while, and I have no idea why. It's not like I was letting down millions of fans. A few thousand followed me on the blogs, but I am sure no one cried. I was fully aware I was never going to get rich writing, but was keen at one stage to see my skills and portfolio develop professionally. Now, I guess, I have other interests, but should use writing more as a hobby or an outlet more.

d) I went through some dark times - anxiety and depression doesn't encourage creativity, but with hindsight, it could have helped. At the time though, I couldn't face writing anything with concentration levels on the floor and low self-esteem. No one wanted to hear from me, I was sure, and I didn't really want to get stuck in writing negatively centred things.

However, there's hope. The fact I'm writing this post is a positive sign. Hey, life is always busy - it's about making time for what you want to do, your priorities. I've not found a writing group in Bristol which works for me, and I don't know if I'm that enthused about going along, really, now. And you know what, it's ok if writing isn't a priority for me now. It's just there, hovering in the background, something I can dip into as and when. Moving on isn't a bad thing, in many aspects of life, but I know I can always go back to it. Life has taught me a lot in the last few years, and I'm sure there's something I could say, especially now I'm much-improved mentally. Still working on it every day, but much mended.

I have 39 unfinished drafts for Miss Write and many more for Born to be a Tourist. Maybe I'll have a crack this weekend. A long, potentially wet weather Easter weekend is a perfect excuse for some inner expression. Watch this space - but don't hold your breath.

Lou x

Find me on Facebook
...and on Twitter

After a long silence, I've turned my hand back to writing a little this month, and I've landed an article in Harboured magazine! It's a new magazine in Bristol (where I'm living), and I'm pretty excited about it. 

Not only am I back writing seriously again, I've posted on my blog for the first time in seven months because of it, and, the best bit is the article is about my baking business, 280 Bakes. 

Take a look - Five Places To Eat Cake can be found online here. 

Stay tuned for more - I hear this writing lark is addictive!

​Lou x

​Today I Told Her

Today I told her. 
 
This evening I told my wife a secret.
A year of marital bliss fell from my lips and crashed into foetal positioned dreams around our feet.
 
“How about Annie for a girl?”
 
I could hold back no longer.
I had to speak.
 
She shook off a long blinked. I could feel our hearts sinking together, yet I was convinced.
 
“What do you mean?”
 
I repeated the loaded phrase, more than words.
 
“How… what...? When did you decide this?”
 
Eight months into our marriage I found myself wishing for nothing more.
 
“Are you sick?”
 
No. I wanted no children – she was enough, my love entirely hers.

Lou x
Find me on Facebook
...and on Twitter
Born to be a Tourist

When the world is eating, singing, celebrating
Tuning into the news can be grating.
Refugees and war are not on theme
But such stories continue to be seen.
 
Christmas is a time of giving
These conflicting images conflicting,
Dominating the current issues
Causing some to reach for tissues.
 
Christmas comes and soon it goes
Resolutions and sometimes snows
Normal life resumes at speed
Drifting away from those in need.
 
Little keeps stark images in your mind
Lasting past the fleeting appeals of kind.
Yet Christmas is a time for thinking of others
From neighbours to global sisters and brothers
 
Remembering the much less fortunates
While we gorge on roasted chestnuts.
Carry these thoughts of injustice and pain
Through January and into the main
 
And spare more than a thought in Christmas cheer
For those children, people, who wish to be here.
Pick out the easy wins, that’s a good start
A tin in the charity box from your shopping cart.
 
Contact your MP for changes in acts
Facebook and Twitter are tools of attacks
Check local press for news of the worthy
Helping those lives topsy-turvy.
 
Monthly donations to your chosen cause
And doing it all for no applause.
So when you pause to think of the many
Who have no food, no home or penny
 
Take it forward from Christmastime
And prove there’s a reason for my rhyme.

Lou x

Find me on Facebook
...and on Twitter
Born to be a Tourist

This is a poem I wrote a while back, some therapeutic reflecting - always helps! Does anyone else write through boredom or through difficult times? (Of course, I write this in my own time!)
​

---------

​Time is going backwards
It’s the time of day
I ponder what’s for dinner
And wonder what to say.
 
“How’s your day been, baby?”
The question that I dread.
It’s nice to be asked, very polite
But a grumpy answer’s in my head.
 
I hate that I’m bored stupid
And I’m one for feeling guilty
When I’m not working for my cash
And filling time with tea.
 
It makes it hard to leave the house
Always something to do there
I could be cleaning, baking, reading, cooking,
Do anything I care.
 
Staring at bogus spreadsheets
And looking forward to lunch
Trying to look occupied
Colleagues a busy bunch.
 
I feel like I’m praying
For an email to pop in
Something to action, something to do
And my day could begin.
 
My talents are skills are wasted
In this dead end role
But where do I want to move to?
How do I leave this hole?
 
Keep looking, keep seeking
A better job’s out there.
And when one day I’m happier
I’ll have an answer to share.

​------------
​

If you like what you're reading, why not check out some more of my writing here on Miss Write?

See you again soon!

Lou x

Find me on Facebook
...and on Twitter
Born to be a Tourist

Tomorrow, I’m off to my first writing course since… ooh, 2010? A whole day dedicated to writing and learning more craft. I’m excited, and very grateful – it was my present for our first wedding anniversary from El Husbandio, back in August. I’m so thankful he’s supportive of my writing, and I can’t wait to meet some new like-minded faces.
 
So what do I hope to gain from this course? It’s entitled “Tools for Fiction Writing” with Louise Green, and, quote, aims to “help you start, improve and develop your stories by looking at some of the key elements in any fiction writing such as plot, character and form.” Last time I went on a course (Winchester – highly recommended!) I learned a lot about structure in writing 60,000+ word stories, which I’ve managed to capitalise a little on for my current work in progress. This time, I hope I can learn skills so I can reach that 60,000 word count goal and get past the 35,000-40,000 brick wall I crash into. This book has legs for a marathon, but it’s slowed to a crawl.
 
In comparison to my writing from 2010, I believe I’ve grown. I’m working on including more emotion in this work, trying to really touch the reader, and I have a lot more experience with a wider audience, having blogged for various new websites this and last year. My portfolio has expanded, adding the ‘bake’ aspect to this Miss Write blog, and I’ve grown in my own personal experience too. This all, surely helps in improving my writing skills. Meeting new writers also helps me by inspiring work and enthusiasms, so I can't fail tomorrow - even if I'm surrounded by anal academics and proffering poets!
 
I know this course, even if there’s no specific gems I leave with, will encourage me and give me the boost I need going into a winter of writing. I haven’t been as dedicated as I should have been in re-starting the penning of my second book, since pledging a re-visit to the script back in August. You know, a two week holiday, a full-time job, buying a house and moving twice has its distractions!
 
So, tomorrow, look out Bristol University. I am reminding myself of my WIP tonight – it’s only 20 pages at the moment, so that’s no challenge. I’ll be writing like a beast, hopefully, through November – my own scaled down, more sociable, gentler version of NaNoWriMo.
 
Pens at the ready, I’m ready to write!
 
Lou x
 
Find me on Facebook
…and on Twitter
Born to be a Tourist

I found this. It's cute, funny and nostalgic. It's also the first incident of my creative writing (aside from any school work). THE MAGIC POTTY was probably written around 1992 when my brother was potty-training. I would have been far too young to pen a story (coherent or not!) when my sister was going through this phase, and I imagine, on the old adage of "writing what you know", I was inspired by what I could see. Lucky me! The board game mentioned and the character "James" were also probably chosen by influences in my childhood life: my family loves a good game, and I was friends with a boy called James at school. Look out, friends, past and present... You may end up in a story of mine! 

I instantly recognised my old brown notepad when I was rooting through a cupboard, having a clear-out. I loved that notebook. Thumbing through the pages, I found not only a short (short) story, but make-believe school registers my sister and I used to play with, lists of things we were wishing for for Christmas, and other such childhood scribblings. Ah, memories!

I hope you can read my small-person's script. I was about seven or eight at the time, so be kind.

THE END - a certain flourish! I think I got a little bored... Like all good stories, it's not too long, and there's a few illustrations. However, I am sure the writer *ahem* could do better with this (obviously rushed) ending!

This treasure wasn't the only thing I found clearing out a bursting wardrobe... Take a look at my first book review in print!  

Lou x

Find me on Facebook
...and on Twitter
Born to be a Tourist

Confession time: I haven't worked on my novel, ‘Scrabble Pieces’, since around August two years ago. I remember taking the day off work in the summer sunshine and smashing my word count target of 2,000 words… and then stopping.


























Why did I stop writing?

I made an extra effort to focus on my monthly column with MK Pulse (I’m no longer with them but I wrote for them for five or so years), and as my blogs continued to grow, I threw myself into my travel blog and this Miss Write website. My writing definitely took a new direction of platform and style away from the novel.

And then life got complicated – an engagement, a wedding abroad, a visa and legal arrangements for El Husbandio, bouncing back and forth between Costa Rica and the UK as a result, job changes (2), moving house (3), a house purchase on-going, all the stress that comes with such life events… and all while working hard in my day job and having a full social life. This all happened in the last 20 months alone. And that’s not counting 2013 – a mega year of travel for me as Costa Rican relations hotted up.

Still, that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have stopped working on my novel. Just 15-20 mins a ay would have kept things ticking over. When I paused in writing, I had 85-90% of a great plot laid out in my head and I was still determined to make a full-length work out of it. I loved the storyline, and loved it even more for showing how my writing’s come along since ‘Girl Meets Boys’ (a novella, 2009, now out of print). I love the feeling of "I can write better than this, and I will write better than this!!!"

How am I going to restart the motors on my half-finished draft?

From memory, I currently have 30,000 words or so stored in chapters on my external hard drive. The thought of re-reading (cringing?) my way through the incomplete first draft attempt doesn’t appeal too much, but I need a refresher. I need to get to know my characters again, remember their stories, refocus on their journeys and the aim of the story. Part of writing ‘Scrabble Pieces’ requires me to forget what I know to write the story as well as possible, so I need to remind myself how to remember to forget. It works, honest! I need to remember the reader knows less than I do about how the book ends…

And I don’t fancy re-reading all this on-screen. I spend enough of my waking hours looking at a screen for my day job, so my eyes will welcome the rest and it’ll be a totally different writing method for me to try. I’ve never been much of a handwriter since I got my first laptop (12 years ago).

So what’s the plan?

I plan to rewrite via handwrite. I am going to scribe what I’ve produced so far in an A4 notepad from the computer screen. All 30,000 words of it – and beyond! My 2005 undergraduate self, struggling over a 5,000 word “dissertation” (I know, it was tiny as far as dissertations go!) would have a heart attack thinking of it, but why not? I have the time, I have the inclination, and I feel like I’ll really get to understand and remember the scenes, storyline, characters and their dilemmas, becoming that much closer to the essence of the writing. I hope to become re-absorbed into the story, like a reader would hopefully be, page-turning. I intend to use this resulting boost to finish the thing.

Another benefit I hope handwriting will bring is it’s easier to make notes as I go along. I can scribble all I like, insert extra pages and mess around easier than a tidy typed page. Yes, I could cut and paste my way through a novel creation on a laptop, but I feel like making notes is more organic, allowing the ideas to flow. Perhaps this is because it’s more natural to hand write than to type? You don’t see great works from centuries passed being typed, and look at their staying power.

It’s been good taking a break – you know I love my blogging – but it’s time to test myself again. Who knows, the break might give my book a new lease of life. I’ve developed my style, become more confident, and I’m ready for a new challenge. I don’t especially enjoy challenging myself in reading, but writing is a totally different story. Bring it on!

Whether this new tactic works or not, we shall have to see. If it does work, fantastic. I can’t wait to get onto the editing stage and have a shiny new book of mine in my hand. If it doesn’t work, I’ve tried something new, reminded myself of how great ‘Scrabble Pieces’ is and will be, and, what I’m most excited about, undoubtedly I’ll discovered more parts to the story my previous scribblings on the keyboard didn’t think of.

I think my hands will be aching in pen-holding shortly!

Wish me luck.

Check out Chuck Wendig's fab blog 25 Ways To Get Your Creative Groove Back As A Writer if you're planning to get back into writing too; it was a big help to me.

Lou x

Find me on Facebook
...and on Twitter
Born to be a Tourist

Flash fiction is a style of fictional literature or fiction of extreme brevity. There is no widely accepted definition of the length of the category. Some self-described markets for flash fiction impose caps as low as three hundred words, while others consider stories as long as a thousand words to be flash fiction.

For some reason, Flash Fiction has worked for me this week, and I have had the least busy week in months! Take a look at some of the tiny stories I've created and let me know your favourites. 

-------

The capital letters in his name seemed too direct, too harsh; she didn’t intend those sentiments on this one final letter.

The presence of a lasagne cooking in the kitchen charged over as she entered her parents’ house, deep, welcoming, and appetite tempting… Something wasn’t right.

All night wasn't enough, morning came too soon. 

The first orange on the tree gloated an ironic gleam as us that summer; fertile, bright and new. 

I feel like the hunter but i'm looking for a place to hide. 

All you had to do was stay. 

He broke my finger that morning, and healed my heart.

Sequins and lace say more than flowers. 

Say you'll see me again, and not just in the queue for unemployment benefit. 

"I'm gone forever if I leave now", she said calmly through the cigarette smoke. 

I've decided the love I gave away I want back, yesterday.

"Perambulate" - the first word I learned at university scared me beyond academically. 

His warm hands closing around mine calmed trembling and promised all. 

Champagne flutes played like tinnitus in my ears.  

The bottles clanged like bells for Mass as Paulo wobbled down the footpath, ignoring his religious duties for the fourth Sunday in a row – he had better things to do, better things to drink.

"Sooo... three months in, Ana, how has marriage surprised you?" my sister prompted.

Drip, drip, drip; the house had never sounded so lonely.

The crack in the window played a tune not unlike a U2 single – any U2 single – from Simon’s childhood; two decades ago, but still, the blood stained his conscious thought. 

"We thought she'd be better off with second years - you can't gamble on who you'll meet in Freshers' Halls."

------

See you soon - busy weekend ahead so it may well be next week before I post here again, but why not come over to Born to be a Tourist and see what's been happening on my travel blog?

Lou x

Find me on Facebook
...and on Twitter
Born to be a Tourist