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!)
​

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​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

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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
 
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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

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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

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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. 

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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."

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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

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As tweeted on April 24th...



Chilled sun 
Shirts off 
April breeze 
Summer's coming 


#sixwords #micropoetry #poem

It truly feels like British summertime has arrived here in Bristol - enjoy!

What poems has the nicer weather inspired for you?





Lou x

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I recently had a clear-out of a cupboard which wasn't really mine, but was full of my stuff. Dear parents, thanks for letting me store stuff!

While having a good root in boxes and through files, I found a dirty, old, thin newspaper. It was more of a gem than it sounds - my first article in print! My university (Keele) published a weekly newspaper, "Concourse", and I managed to get a book review printed in an issue during my final year. The piece is nowhere near perfect, but it made me quite nostalgic. I left university in 2006, so it's been eight years since I last saw this. 

After this first publication, feeling the early buzz of getting my name in print, I wrote another three or four articles. From memory, one was on the history of popcorn (following a film festival on campus), and another was extolling the virtues of studying abroad - check out "Why you should study in Canada", an updated version of this article which I posted on my travel blog recently. I forget what the other article was, but I was, and remain, excited to see my name in print. 

Finding old pieces you were proud of or enjoyed writing is a great excuse for keeping all you create. Has anyone else ever found some age-old writing they've written and been transported back years or decades? 

Lou x

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Born to be a Tourist - my travel blog - have you checked it out yet?

I’ve been feeling so inspired lately – lucky me!

But why?

I think it was due to a couple of big boosts I’ve had to my writing ego.

First of all, Travel Generation approached me last week, asking for me to write them a few articles for their travel blog. I was more than excited, having enjoyed some previous posts on this website, so accepted immediately. Three articles of mine are due during next month and September, so keep an eye on my Facebook for news of their publishing dates. Totally encouraged, I went on a creative binge, and not just in writing for Travel Generation. Blogs and articles were free-flowing!

Secondly, last week was Towcester Writers meeting for July. The pre-set theme was ‘Pre-Wedding Jitters’ (I wonder why…?) and I read out a short piece of 1200 words I’d worked quite hard on. I wasn’t totally sure it worked, but writing on that theme seemed to come a bit easy. The theme wasn’t true to life at all, and I did get asked how my relationship was with my mother (it's fine!), but the group loved my short story. I have never had such an enthusiastic reception from my fellow writers! Chuffed!

So how has this helped me?

Well, since that successful reception, I have entered my pre-wedding jitters story into a competition. It’s been so long since I’d entered a writing competition and it felt good to be back in the saddle. I can’t share the piece with you until the winners have been announced , but I’ll be sure to post the story on here in September when the deadline has passed.

Why am I blogging about this? I'm not bragging, honest: I think it’s good to formally and deliberately recognise these moments of inspiration. So many times in a writer’s life we struggle with ‘writers’ block’ (real or imagined) and sometimes it can feel like we’re writing the same old stuff on the same subject. But when those precious occasions come along when you feel truly excited and inspired to write, we should grab them with both hands and see where it takes us.

How have you felt inspired lately?

Lou x

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I'm not happy with the title of this piece, but I hope the story itself works out well. This was read at a recent Towcester Writers' meeting. We were given a prompt of THE DIARY. 

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WAKING UP

Tuesday 3rd June 2014

No alarm clock had been set for this morning, and it wasn’t an accident. There was a medley of clothing strewn over the floor. There were empty bottles in the bin. Some unrecognisable keys lay just inside the doorway. Someone needed to open a window. 

It was the morning after the night before. At least, Kate assumed it was still ‘morning’. The sun streaming in through the half-drawn curtains certainly suggested daylight hours were firmly in progress – and it was promising to be a hot day. She didn’t want to open her eyes; Kate recalled the disorientation of going to bed last night and could only imagine the mess which waited to greet her. “Morning!” … a sprightly greeting she imagined, coming from imaginary lips of the muddle. “Now, clean me up, you bad girl!”

Kate’s legs felt like they were glued to the bed sheet as she attempted to roll over, the light Egyptian cotton sheets almost too much of a physical burden. Blindly fumbling on the unfamiliar nightstand for some paracetamol, placed there yesterday in anticipation of the headache pounding in her temples, she nudged the man sleeping to her right.

It was his turn to wake up.

He looked so peaceful, dammit. As relaxed as a monk on dope. How did he do it? There was no sign of the same aches, exhaustion or plain suffering Kate was experiencing. She’d seen it before, and no doubt, she’d see it again. Many people had a higher tolerance to those kinds of shenanigans than Kate did. It was just so bloody infuriating. Well, irritating at the very least. She couldn’t summon the energy right now to feel an emotion more extreme than ‘irritated’.

Forcing her eyes to open more than a paper cut’s width, she wasn’t sure if it was condensation running down the window panes, or if her eyes were having that much of a problem focussing. It was so damn hot. She tried to remember whose idea this had been.

‘Never again…’ Kate thought.

Wednesday 4th June 2014

This morning, Kate was her own alarm clock. Body clock reset from the events of the last 48 hours, she was ready to go. The more familiar room was tidy and aerated this time, the window blowing in a slight breeze. This morning the sunshine beckoned instead of threatened.

“Up! Up! Let’s go!” Kate cheerfully said, poking the same man in the ribs. “Come on, we haven’t recovered from yesterday to waste today in bed!”

Shortly, you would find man and wife a drink’s spill away from their ocean view balcony. Cocktail in hand, toes in sand. The holiday Down Under was just beginning. 

Lou x

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Image courtesy of WikiHow

Today, there are commemorations happening in France and the south-east coast of the UK to mark the 70th anniversary of the D-Day Landings in World War Two. For anyone who's not aware, D-Day was the start of "Operation Overlord", the 1944 Allied invasion of Nazi-occupied western Europe, involving a landing of 156,000 troops. This operation began on the beaches of Normandy on the western French coast. It was the amphibious manoeuvre which marked the start of the end of the war. As many as 4,000 Allied troops and 9,000 German died in one day.

Here in the UK, it is easy to let commemorations of both world wars wash over you a little - there are so many things going on throughout the year to remember the events of this key part of British (and indeed, world) history. Poppies in November, various key events which are remembered, and there will be more to come due to other conflicts. I feel incredible guilty typing that, but I think it's true in a way. However, today, 6th June 2014, is special. Today is the final official marking by veterans of the landings. As you can imagine, most of the veterans are in their 90's now and their numbers are declining. The veterans association is dis-banding. 

In the next few years, the memories of D-Day will become history as the last of the survivors pass away. 

It is important, in my opinion, that the ones left behind who were too young or not yet born to remember it to sustain an inherited memory of events like these. My grandparents were not involved in D-Day, but they were a soldier, a Wren and an evacuee in World War Two, and I have been lucky enough to hear stories from all three of them. Two of my grandparents have passed away. I miss them every day, even after a few years have passed by. I believe, in a similar vein to remembering D-Day veterans and events, remembering my dear grandparents every day is a way to retain the memories of their persons and a way to honour them and what they brought to our family, their communities, and indeed their country. The memories of my grandparents who've died are gone. The stories they told me have become memories for me; memories I cannot pass on to my future children, but I can certainly pass on what I have learned about my beloved grandparents to help them create their own family history.

History is being made every day, most hours. We cannot commemorate EVERYTHING, but we can record it and we should remember important memories like these. We can, of course, mark past events to remember those who gave their lives. However, we also need to remember to feel proud for the bravery, skill, and dedication those involved - and isn't just respect for the soldiers we should show. What about the planners, the people in logistics, the people who dealt with the ones who came home injured/dead, the women behind the scenes? 

Memories are both easy and difficult to hang on to, but they should be a lesson for the future. What use is history if it doesn't teach us something? Any military personnel reading this will probably think of the lessons learned from the conflict and be able to reflect on so much that has changed, but the rest of us can join this reflection too. 

Why were we at war? What were we fighting for? Why was it so important? What humanity was shown in these dark days? How would the UK, Europe, the world be different had World War Two had a different ending?

Watching the coverage on the BBC today, there seems to be a sense of humility among the veterans, not seeing themselves as heroes. Indeed, it's turned into a family event, where stories are shared and new memories are made. 

We need to ensure the lessons learned and the reason the UK declared war on the Nazis is not forgotten as those who were involved are buried. World War Two should not leave our school text books for a long time yet. However, I have a strong opinion that more history than just World War Two should be taught in secondary schools. Years 9-11 in my school (1990s) was solid war learning, and it could have been much better structured... but that's a whole other rant/blog.
 
On this emotional and sombre day, I have a message for the veterans still with us, and a thought for the ones who've died since and on the day. Simply, thank you for our freedom. 

Special mention to 89 year old Jock Hutton who repeated his parachute jump from 70 years ago this morning. Incredible. Well done him!

Lou x

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Images courtesy of Cross Fit James Island and the BBC website