The Last Milestone

Every writer has goals. Being an independent author, this is especially important as writing takes a lot of self-motivation. Independents are fighting an uphill battle.We don’t get press unless we aggressively chase it, we have to offer countless promotions which cost us everytime just to get our name out there, you have to really believe in yourself. It’s incredibly hard and competitive, so for your positive mindset, you need those goals.

There are personal and professional. My professional goals are a lot shorter as the personal goals have been the main driving force since day one. This checklist is your record of achievement, something just for you where if you had to stop at any point and it all went pear-shaped, you can hold your head high knowing on your level you did it!

Very rarely, these goals are money orientated or involve fame. And very recently, something extraordinary happened to me. I achieved my list. Thanks to a hefty mix of luck and hard work, I got there. In five years. Which is insane. I have worked my ass off, weekends, and evenings. I pile the hours in, but to me, it’s part of the job. It’s hard to be a writer. People think its cool, but they see it as your hobby until you make the bestsellers list on the Sunday Times. Until then, it’s “a thing you like to do.” And quite often, they think its just sitting and typing. No. You have to promote. You have to market yourself and your work, you have to develop a brand (you), singlehandedly run and update your website (you can’t afford IT), research (online, interview, library, visit places), you have to find jobs, competitions, search agents and publishers, keep an eye on the market, listen to conflicting advice (run with trends, don’t run with trends!!!), and you have to create opportunities. It’s the most poorly paid job ever! All the while suffering with imposter syndrome, so you completely believe you are failing and not good enough. So you see how important having motivation that’s close to your heart is.

My personal goals were always close to my heart. Some seemed plausible, but most to be honest, I never thought I would get there.

They were;

Goal one: A stranger to read and enjoy my work.

It took me years to admit I liked to write, even longer to call myself an author. It always sounded pretentious. Then someone said to me, if a person plays music, practices every day, writes songs, does local gigs but never makes the top ten in the charts, would you still call them a musician? I said, of course! They aid then you, my dear, are a writer.

It took a lot of nerve for me to go public, I was scared stiff. So you can imagine what it was like to have someone read your work. It’s so scary. You piled your heart and soul into every word, edited, re-edited, and then did it again and again. If they hate it, it crushes you.

I decided on the kind of author I wanted to be. I wanted to have an email address just for readers, a messaging centre on social media, and I would give examples of my writing as a thank you for investing your time in me. When I first received messages, readers described how attached they were to characters, asking me questions about what happened to them (this meant I made them real and relatable) that felt so good. For three people I know of, my books are the only ones they have read in their adult lives. Through emails and messages, readers tell me what they liked and enjoyed and how the books fit into their lives. They tell me their stories. This is how I know I achieved this goal. It’s probably true it would be nice if they also left reviews, but I love how many people get in touch. Its more time spent on me and my writing out of their day, which I am incredibly grateful for.

Goal 2: Get into libraries

I achieved this. What was an amazing touch was The attempted demise of Augusta Walsh aged 15 years, 4 months and 6 days was continuously out on loan. So much so that the library had to buy new copies! This blows my mind!

Goal 3: Change the way someone sees the world and how people think by my words alone.

As far as I know, this has happened on two occasions. Two readers got in touch, honestly giving readers that portal to contact me was the best thing I ever did. I implore other writers to do the same. It’s given such a lift over the years.

When I wrote Isolation Tales, it was to draw attention to the KeyWorkers and the risks they took during CoVid-19. At the time, everyone seemed to focus purely on the numbers, how many cases, and how many deaths.

I interviewed keyworkers and found out what they wanted people to know. It was a book of short stories and poems about living in the pandemic.

I had a message saying that after reading the book (many did so in one sitting), they looked out the window. They saw the postman and a herse and started to think. For the first time, it wasn’t just how the pandemic affected them and their families but the world as a whole. They started to take notice.

The second was a lady who felt she was the only one who felt alone. When she read Augusta, all her worries, her thoughts, were expressed in that book. She related to Augusta, felt more confident, and tried to change her life as it was. Augusta gave her belief that she could go through the worst but still end up okay. It gave her hope. People have connected so much with this book. Some have read it four times! This feedback means so much I can not say.

Goal 4: Leave your mark

This goal happened unexpectedly. Kresen Kernow heard about Isolation Tales and submitted it into their archive. If you don’t know, Kresen Kernow is the world’s biggest collection of documents, books, maps, and photographs related to Cornwall’s history. It is a huge honour. I am fiercely Cornish, and this is my greatest achievement to date. It means more than I can tell you. For over five generations, my family stemed from Cornwall. Once something is put into Kresen Kernow, it doesn’t get removed. Isolation Tales, my work, will live on. I get tearful just thinking about it.

And now the final one: Be able to physically walk into a bookshop and see my books on the shelves.

This recently happened in Morethanabookshop in St. Austell. What makes it even better is that it is a community bookshop. All the money goes back into St Austell, a place I spent years living close by. I won’t bore you with words here. I made a video straight after I came away from the shop. You can see how much it meant.

I have never been fuelled by money (good job!), all the author’s royalties from Dudley and Isolation Tales both go straight to Cornish charities. Most of all, I wanted my work to mean something. After achieving all of my list, I believe it does. And really, that’s the ultimate goal.

Hidden London

When people think of London, the images that come to mind are always Big Ben, the London Eye, the West End, Buckingham Palace, Piccadilly Circus, and museums. But there is another side to London than landmarks, a part that’s a bit more hidden and less frequented by tourists. And it’s these places I always tend to go whenever I find myself up that way.

I love a cocktail, and on my first night of my most recent stay, I visited three cocktail bars. You might be imagining swanky modern places with fancy glasses or terraces outside. But each were unique and had a story to them which made them special and a joy to visit.

The first was a bar called The Last Tuesday Society in Mare Street.

It was the most unusual bars I have ever been into. Specialising in absinthe which they distil themselves in London, every cocktail on the menu contains the once illegal (and still so in many countries) drink and were absolutely delicious! The setting is filled with the weird and wonderful, from Napoleons death mask to red sequin suits, taxidermy, pornographic materials, and toys to celebrity poo. It is a distinctive and one of a kind place to visit.

The second bar we visited was The Natural Philosophers Cocktail Bar. 

In 1920s style surroundings, and full of foilage, its cocktails are made from foraged ingredients. The bar is below room level and an element of luxury, with unique pairings of flavours unlikely to be found anywhere else in London and beyond.

The last bar frequented that night was the Love Shack. Previously, a car garage, the owners stripped the floor themselves and whilst doing so in cold months, they invented hot cocktails that now take pride and place on their menu. They based the bar around the B52s hit anthem, and along with secret rooms behind moving staircases, giving customers free hugs, and a fantastic decor and food menu, it was definitely a highlight that evening.

All these bars were close to each other, and one thing they did that really was fantastic is they straightaway provided water and topped it up continuously to save you the trouble of a bad head the next morning. All owners and staff were eager to chat and make you feel at home, and taken care of.

But if you’re not a cocktail fan, there are still plenty of places to visit in London hidden away. All of these are free. Underneath the fancy offices and streets lies a roman temple. The London Mithraeum. You go underground, and moody lighting and atmosphere recreates the moment when the temple was discovered. In the 3rd century AD, nearly 200 years after the founding of London, a Roman Londoner built this temple to worship the god Mithras.

On Saturday, 18th September 1954, the marble head of a statue of Mithras was uncovered from beneath the rubble of post-war London and became one of the most significant events in British archaeological history.

Just across from its entrance is a modest wooden door, leading into one of the most beautiful churches I have ever seen. St Stephen Walbrook is considered by Christopher Wren as his masterpiece. It was the prototype for St. Pauls cathedral and absolutely stunning.

Another church worth a visit is St. Dunstan in the East , It was rebuilt by Christopher Wren after it was destroyed by the Great Fire of London in 1697. The Church became ruins and was opened as a public space since the late 1960s. Decorated with ivy and a water fountain. It is extremely beautiful and up a little street. Locals go there to gather thoughts and relax, it feels calm and spiritual there.

Through the places to explore in London, it’s worth researching hidden gems that not many people know about. I took a walk along Brick Lane early hours of the morning among a gallery of Street Art. It blows your mind to the talent on show.

More street art can be viewed in what is known affectionately as the graffiti tunnel on Leake Street. A Banksy lays hidden, and talent is everywhere. Upcoming artists are encouraged to find a space and showcase their work. Resulting in a unique walk that changes with every visit.

So, if you do venture into London, take my advice and visit these hidden gems. They make your experience that much better. There’s always a lot more to the city than it first appears.

The Power of Comics

Recently, the National Literacy Trust did an extensive survey of 64,066 children and young people aged 8 to 18 years to explore their enjoyment of reading in their spare time. Shockenly, the research showed a crisis. The number was the lowest since records began. Of course, the amount of media content on platforms is insane, and the age of kids owning technology is getting younger and younger, so I guess this isn’t overly surprising. But there is hope. Comic books. Now, it is thought that ‘comics can inspire a future generation of readers.’

The children that read comics rated themselves as a ‘good’ or ‘ very good’ reader, and said they read comics daily in their spare time. Twice as many contributors that read a comic every day said they enjoy reading compared to those who don’t. In fact, 2 in 5 children and young people said they read comics or graphic novels regularly once a month.

In a rapidly declining demographic, kids stated that comics offer a unique and engaging way to escape the troubles and worries of the real world. We could argue that books offer the same, but this generation is visual. They have grown up with videos, reels, and memes, especially within social media apps, as a prominent way to grab their attention and engage with their friends. Comics and graphic novels feed into that visual space offering a way that many would not realise they are reading at all!

The statistics of comic books by category state 32% of all comic books are being made exclusively for children and young people. Although with the rise of Manga (especially amongst teens), and Superheroes (from popularity of Marvel and DC movies), although not specifically targeted at children and young people, this gives them access to 89% of the market.

It’s not just England that is seeing the rise. The format of graphic novels has shot up 90% within American school libraries. Childrens comics and graphic novels share of the market is now worth millions of dollars in the US and rising. Many previously published novels are being re-released in graphic novel form to inspire new readers tapping into their rise in popularity. As much as 67% of the children’s book market is now graphic novels.

As a comic fan myself, I have always seen their appeal. The artwork is stunning, and they inspire, definitely giving their readers an escape into another world. Superheroes show good over evil and an idolised version of humans. Manga, let’s face it, is just cool. Most manga readers I know also draw the characters, so it encourages creativity in another way that gets young people away from the screen. As an author, it’s also another medium your work can be seen and your story to be told. The reputation of comic books has gone from being a nerdy geeky pasttime to a respectable and exciting popular genre that is dominating and revolutionising literature. Long may it continue.

ONE SHOT FICTION: Binds of immured love

She knew he wasn’t perfect, but he had chosen her. She was lonely and awkward, but he saw something within her. Something still unspoken but real. He was strong, kind in his own way, and a proud man. There were untold truths hidden in the consciousness of her mind that tried breaking through. Every now and again, they would succeed. And just for a moment, for a split second, she would wonder. But she was his. Her place was by his side.

They had a life together, built by companionship and love. There was trust. He would provide for her, pay for her, and give her a home. In return, she would belong to him. Dress how he wished, keep their home well, and cook for him. It was her role to keep him happy.

She had failed in the past. It was her fault their home was not a family one, blessed with the cries of the young. 

She remembered the day they met, back when his blue eyes sparkled. She was with her only friend. She had not known friends for years now, he had become her whole world, and she knew of nothing else. He ordered for her on their first date, an act she found gentlemanly. It was an insight into the years to come that he would take care of her. 

Back then, everything she did seemed to make him happy. She looked up at framed photos of their life together. On their wedding day, she was so young and naive… innocent. Innocent. 

She was tired and weary, and the photos were blurring now.  She made such a stupid mistake, and now her white dress with embroidered blue flowers was ruined. Stained and spreading with crimson. Blood was awful to get out. He wouldn’t know what to do, and he would probably ask his mother to clean it.

She had failed him. She should have realised, and been more considerate and sympathetic to his wants and need to relax.

She noticed a spot of blood on the carpet. Scared he’d see, she tried to move one of his shoes to cover it and conceal the mess she was making. As she moved, a sharp pain in her abdomen made her cry out involuntarily. She promised him she’d be quiet. She froze, listening to see if he would come and discipline her for her insolence. It still felt strange to feel pain. Her body had felt like an empty shell for so long. 

Her mouth was dry, and she felt sleepy. Hazily, she noticed the top of a sock was poking out of the bedroom chest drawer. She must not have pushed it in properly when putting his washing away. He returned home early. When nothing was ready, he was mad.

She debated to leave the sock be, that little voice creeping in, but she could not. She moved slowly and fell onto her side, the taste of blood filled her mouth and she spluttered, and flecks sprayed the floor. With her final movement, she tried to rectify the drawer. The last thought in her mind was shame.

Silence.

If you, or you suspect someone you know is the victim of domestic abuse, you can call the 24-hour UK National Domestic Abuse Helpline on 0808 2000 247 for free confidential advice.

Amy

Soft, smoky tones of jazz

Heartbreak in every line

An album of a generation

A woman of a different time.

With her head high, Amy trod a troubled track

She died a hundred times. Her odds were stacked.

A fragile beauty

Her soul and downfalls laid bare.

Life in lyric and song

Touches of Motown and Blues with distinct Winehouse flair.

Unapologetically herself, Amy refused to make changes

Fuck the image of pop on a thousand stages.

She battled blind over futile odds

Plagued by paparazzi and laughed at by the gods.

She cheated herself like she knew she would

Amy told us she was trouble, that she was no good.

She needed a friend, someone to love her

Just till the tears have dried.

Her own defined style, the eyeliner queen

Hair black as the demons lurking inside.

As soon as we lost her, the world mourned.

Another like her, there would never be.

While the tabloid pictures in the papers decomposed in the streets

Amy thrived. Her wish came true. Music became her legacy.

A shining light in a world of haze

In the end, the plague of addiction won.

The sky above ablaze

Dark covered her, and she could not run. 

And then the final frame.

Life is a losing game.

The Definition of Man

I am a feminist. Thankfully, our understanding of what this means no longer immediately draws images of burning bras but equal rights for women. But there is another term where the meaning has moved on a lot less. Dangerously so, in fact. Masculinity.

As women, we get leered at, but if we are truthful, so do men. Women check guys out all the time. We objectify them. If we didn’t, there wouldn’t be any sell-out shows for male strippers. Women enjoy looking as much as men do. It’s just men are more open about it. But why is that? The reason is acceptability. It is generally known that guys will wolf whistle, stare, and watch if a pretty girl walks by. The difference with women is that we tend to be more discreet.

Men are perceived as the stronger, manual sex. As a result, there is pressure to be good at DIY, fix things, have muscles, be sporty, watch sports, and generally be big drinkers (downing lots of beer at the pub) to fit in. There is pressure on body image. Like women, guys are encouraged to have those perfect abs, toned arms and legs, and as an added bonus, big feet. To be like the guys in magazines and the actors on screen.

Emotions are expected to be contained more around other guys, especially at work. I have lots of guy friends, and most talk about how they’re feeling as they feel more comfortable talking to a woman other than another man. The risk of being told to ‘Man Up’, ‘Grow some balls’, or ‘Stop being a girl’s blouse’ must be pretty intense. There is more awareness around this now. Guys are being encouraged to talk, and men’s groups where they can hang out and chat are emerging more and more, but it is still a problem. The suicide rate for men is 19.6 per 100,000 compared to just 6.0 for women (Office for National Statistics, UK). Women tend to share openly, a luxury less felt in men.

There is one male refuge in the UK for domestic abuse. Although nineteen will accept male victims, there are over five hundred in the UK. The options for male victims and their children are limited. The hard part is that when a woman attacks a man, he can only defend himself. Many have extensive injuries to their lower arms as a result. Many custody hearings automatically side with the mother. Whatever she tells the court is generally accepted and believed. The odds are stacked against the fathers’ time and time again.

When we look up the definition of masculinity, the Oxford Dictionary lists the term as qualities or attributes regarded as characteristic of men and boys. Then, it gives the example of handsome, muscled, and driven.

Google lists the word as the social expectation of being a man. The roles, behaviours, and attributes considered appropriate for boys and men in society. Masculinity is constructed and defined socially, historically, and politically rather than biologically driven.

In contrast, when we look up feminity, Google suggests it is influenced by biological factors. The example given in the Oxford Dictionary is embracing feminity and concealing it.

So, why is femininity biologically driven but not masculinity? Under dictionary definition, men are only masculine if perceived by others as such and are what society expects to see when they think of a traditional idealism of a man. The example in the dictionary is visual; handsome, muscled, where the feminity is more internal and how the woman perceives herself.

There has been movement, but not enough. No one should feel inadequate. Everyone should feel they can embrace who they are, no matter their sex, and you should not be expected to be anyone other than yourself. We have redefined a feminist in society. Maybe it’s time we redefine masculinity as well.

Edit. Edit. Repeat.

So, you’ve finally done it, the moment of a hundred daydreams since you started. You finally finished that first draft of your novel. Congratulations! This is a big achievement. Most don’t get this far, losing interest part way through. You kept going and reached that finish line after months (sometimes years) of work. But now the real torment begins as a new challenge lies ahead. The edit.

The editing stage is, without doubt, the most important stage of writing a book. If a book is badly edited, your readers will not return. It takes an insane amount of time, and by the end, your labour of love, your baby, and the outpouring of your creative soul will become the most hated thing in your life.

So many times, you will think you’re finished. So many times you will think Sod it! That’ll do! But a little voice inside will tell you another read-through is needed, and more changes happen. The biggest mistake first-time writers make is rushing and thinking the novel can’t get any better. If you are a first-timer, take my advice – pass it to a friend. A teacher, lecturer, proofreader, ideally. At the very least, someone you know who reads a lot and will tell you the absolute truth. If you submit it before it is ready to publishers or agents, your work will scream amateur, and they will not read past the first paragraph. The competition in writing is fierce. Thousands of submissions a week enter the slush pile, and usually, only a few (sometimes as low as two) unknowns will be signed each year. A year. Let that sink in. So stop, take a break for a couple of weeks, and make sure by giving it one more look.

Editing is relentless. It feels neverending, and you will never finish, but hang in there. Refusing to give up is the difference between a published book (independent or mainstream) and a forgotten file on your computer. I am no expert by any means, but after going through the process a few times now, there are some things I have learned.

For me (although everyone is different), the trick that makes it bearable is doing the process in steps. Then at least you think you’re making progress, instead of feeling like you are standing in a sandstorm in the middle of a desert, trying to find a way home. Each stage I concentrate on and try to turn blind to anything else. It keeps me focused. So, the stages…

📖 Stage one: Initial read-through

This is a labourous one but a good starting block. Basically, you simply read your novel. It is in its roughest stage, so you find spelling mistakes from late-night typing sessions, and sentences that make no sense, and you’ll wonder what on earth you had been drinking when you wrote such drivel. Sometimes you get names wrong, forget speechmarks, and automatically you correct and change as you go. It’s not even uncommon for giant spaces of empty pages to appear for no apparent reason! Your confidence might waiver at this point when you look at the mess that lies in front of you but keep believing. No one can write like you. You are the only person who can tell this story in the way you envisioned at the start. Your book will get out there. Just keep going!

🕳 Stage 2: Plotholes

When you write a first draft, you are getting the story down. When you initially read through, the chances are you made a note of parts that need to be inserted, expanded, or changed. Either to bring more to the characters and setting or to make it easier for the reader to experience the story. These can be things such as more details of places or feelings, etc. If there is a character that you wish the reader to get attached to or embrace more, this also means showing more of them throughout the novel. Creating opportunities for them to be present.

If you’re writing a novel set in the past, a lot more time is needed at this stage. You have to make sure everything was around or used at that time. There’s no sense in putting in microwaves if everything was cooked on a stove. You will also need to cover fashions, diet, currency, landscape, major events that happened at that time, such as wars, the language or slang people used, land, religion, and sometimes monarchs. You need to be aware of it all. This stage also nicely leads into stage 3.

👐 Stage 3: Show don’t tell

This is a massive thing in writing and is really important. The more experienced in writing you get, the better you become at doing it. When you read through the book, you have to be aware of anything where instead of telling the reader something you describe it and trust, they will interpret what is happening for themselves. If, for instance, you want to describe what someone is wearing instead of saying something like feeling self-conscious, she decided to sit down. Julia wore a tight black dress to her knees like the old Hollywood stars she admired as a child and wanted to be like.

You would be more subtle, such as; When Julia was offered a seat, she felt the material of her dress clench her body as she bent down. She glanced at the stranger opposite, and she tugged the hem a little further over her knees. Her black tights blended seamlessly into a silhouette, Julia crossed her ankles, hoping none noticed the small ladder that had started to appear from her heel.

From the revised version, you understand the dress is tight, and the use of the word silhouette describes the colour. Instead of telling the emotion of being self-conscious, it becomes apparent in small actions such as Julia tugging the dress down after seeing the stranger. The ladder in her tights creates a premise, adding more to her character. There is a book I use that has become invaluable for this. It is called the Emotional Thesaurus and describes actions and gestures both internal and external for every emotion. If you are serious about writing, a similar book could prove invaluable. You will be surprised at how many incidents in your writing can fall into the trap of telling, not showing. Even the biggest bestselling writers have to edit a lot to make sure they avoid the temptation of a quick tell.

🕑 Stage 4: Contingency

This edit is all about time and making sure the events in the book are in order and make sense. It also includes the characters’ likes and dislikes. If a character is vegan, it would make no sense if later on they visit a cafe and have a full English breakfast. So, every detail you have to note down. Birthdays and ages, likes and dislikes, jobs, families, friends, and anything that happens to them that can be referenced later. Also, the reader has to have some concept of time in the novel, so a quick mention of a time of year or season is good.

The events of your novel have to flow. Conversations between characters can not mention anything that hasn’t happened yet, such as meeting fleeting characters or referencing lovers or friends. You also have to make a note of anyone working in shops or people like postmen. So, in the book, the way you describe them or a name will create an immediate image in the reader’s head. Small details like this make it easy for your readers to step into the world you’ve created. So the more of this you get right, the more realistic your story will be.

👀 Stage 5: Second read through

At this stage, you must read the book as if encountering it for the first time, ensuring everything you have changed so far has worked. You are looking for readability, engagement, whether you can relate to characters, and the overall pace of the story.

✔️ Stage 6: Grammar and Language

Pretty self-explanatory. You need to spell check. Check grammar, and watch out for any mistakes between American English and Standard English. Sometimes, computerised spellcheckers will switch between the two, so be careful.

Next, use a different spell checker independent from the first. This is also where you pay close attention to tenses (past and present) and try not to mix them up in sentences and paragraphs, which is a bigger and more detailed task. Take your time with the tense check. It’s a big indication of your ability, and it’s very easy to mix them up.

👥 Stage 7: Beta Reader

Ideally, another read-through is needed before handing it over to someone you trust. You need fresh eyes on your novel. Avoid spouses, partners, parents, or best friends as they are usually the most supportive. Usually, three is ideal.

☕️ Stage 8: Take a break

You have to break away for a bit. Some do weeks, some do months, but remove yourself from your book. You would have gone through it so many times now that it is hard to be subjective. So, try and forget or focus on other things for a bit.

🏁 Stage 9: Final readthrough

This stage is as long as a piece of string. Stepping away will ignite your focus, so you read through and edit as many times as needed. Make any changes the beta readers have suggested (if one person suggests something, take it under consideration. If it is more than one, it is best to change it no matter how painful). The general rule is, if you make more than four or five changes, the book isn’t ready, so you will have to edit again. It has to be in the best shape it can be. Only you can decide. If you are like me, you are never 100% sure, so trust your instincts. There is always a niggling feeling you can’t ignore if it’s not ready.

🍾 Stage 10: Finish!

So, that’s it, you’re done. Pour yourself a glass of something and relax- the hard work is over so reward yourself and do something just for you. There’s still cover design, marketing, and blurbs to come but the most labourous stages are over. You made it!

If you are approaching or in the midst of editing, you have my condolences. I am there myself, so I feel your pain! But we can do this! The harder we work, the better the book will be. And in the end, it will all be worth it. Hopefully!

Ideas Overload

The most common question I get asked when people realise I’m a writer is ‘Where do you get your inspiration from?’

I can not speak for other writers, but for me, this is the most complicated question to answer. You see, my brain does not stop. Ideas come from everywhere.

Quick example-  I was reading this morning,a graphic novel called Daytripper. It is actually really good. It tells the story of one day in a man’s life at different ages. There are lots of short stories, each an important stage of his life, and although he dies at the end of each chapter, you learn more about him as a person and who he is.

So, reading is escapism, right? Every chapter, I have had ideas. My idea that came to me today was of a couple who, in each book chapter, are entwined within a key moment of history. They are together, but one dies at the end of each chapter. Their relationship grows as the book goes on, and we just continue as if the death never happened – multiple realities. This literally took about 10 minutes after beginning to read!

Truth, it happens everywhere, in virtually everything I do. I hear a song I imagine who it was written for, I concentrate on lyrics, and a story pops into my head. Usually about love and lust, or betrayal.

Walking through town, I see different people’s imaginary backstories, much like the peoplewatching you did on benches with your friends as a kid. The inspiration from television shows are mostly secondary characters or based on the theme of a show. Factual programmes are the worst, such as Who Do You Think You Are give multiple book and story ideas. They tell stories within stories, and I have to resist letting my mind wander into a neverending spiral. You could say well, just write it!

But setting a book at a specific moment in time is a massive amount of extra work. You have to know everything about that time period and way of life – fashion, diet, events, language, geography, money, what had been invented, past times, and you have to double-check you got it right. One reader who knows their stuff could throw your credibility right out the window if you get caught out!

Graveyards and churches are, for me, the easiest place to go if I need character names or I have writers block. Both are a wealth of information about past lives and families. All I have to do is wander around, and my mind is so busy I can’t take notes fast enough.

Even when people are speaking to you, inspiration can strike. And if the idea is good, you become the rudest person on the planet until you can write it down. Many a time, I have had to say to my fellow villagers, ‘can’t stop! Thinking!’ Leaving them open-mouthed standing bemused on the footpath as I powerwalk up the road!

The best thing about my phone is the Notes app. It is the main part I use, sometimes just a word or brief description, sometimes paragraphs. It is a treasure trove of ideas I keep with me. You see, you have to keep track of each idea as you never know when you might use it or at least a version of it.

When I changed my mobile phone over, the sales guy asked me what I wanted. I told him a camera (but not too complicated as I am bad with tech) and Notes. He informed me Notes came with every phone, and I was the first customer to say it was vital! He was amazed at how little data I use. That’s the good thing with Notes, you don’t need WiFi to use it! 😊

So if you know a writer or meet one, wait a moment before you ask them that question about our inspiration. Remember, our minds are busy – we may be basing a character on your appearance or personality trait without you realising. We might even be repeating your name in our head until we can break away and open our Notes app. Inspiration never stops. Ideas keep coming from unlikely places. Instead of asking the question, give us coffee. We’re always exhausted trying to keep up. We always need coffee. 😂

The Greatest Show

Last Sunday, for the first time in over twenty years, the Oscars was broadcast live for free in the UK. Before that, film buffs had to subscribe to Sky or even worse in later years, Sky Cinema. There’s something special about watching the biggest most spectacular show in its entirety.

I always watched it on BBC2 as a kid, which was its home for years. I remember staying up late (yes, I have always been naughty) on my little portable TV and knackered at school the next day. There’s always so much more than what you see in highlights, and yes, I know it’s long, but every year, I was entertained.

From the shock win of Crash over Brokeback Mountain, which I was pretty happy about to be honest, to one of the best features, Best Song. Each nomination is performed. The most memorable for me was the year Matt Stone and Trey Parker were nominated. Both my little brother and I were glued. Out came Robin Williams with gaffa tape over his mouth before removing it to sing and gasps from the chorus, replacing the word f*$k. It was awesome. As we were both massive South Park fans, to see it in such a prestigious event was fantastic. Stone and Parker attended in drag, which also made the red carpet particularly memorable.

The only moment of Best Song that surpassed it was when Eminem won for ‘Lose Yourself’. Seeing an artist you were obsessed with breaking history for being the first hip-hop song to win was groundbreaking. This year, Billie Ellish gave a hauntingly beautiful performance (and won), and no doubt you’ve seen Ryan Gosling’s performance of ‘Just Ken’ on social media.

But it’s not just the music, for each of the big acting Oscars, five previous winners and legends of the industry gave a little speech directed toward each nominee which added prestige and how much it meant. Each nominee had their moment and a chance to recognise their achievement in being nominated.

The presenters are another highlight. Seeing Hollywood in its most formal attire, including many stars that were not shown on the red carpet. One of my favourite moments was when Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito reunited to present Best Visual Effects. They did this amazing routine about their roles in Batman films. And then cut to Michael Keaton in the audience. This whole bit was such a surprise and created so much joy for comic book fans. YouTube it if you missed it, it was hilarious!

The only disappointing aspect was the In Memoriam section (and the hosting, Jimmy Kimmel is definitely more American humour), the Oscars are more detailed so you get to see people who were in smaller roles, but you loved. The dancers and musicians were predominantly featured, making it hard to see who was being remembered. It was quite emotional when they showed Matthew Perry. He looked so young compared to others, and so handsome, it was a painful reminder that he left us much too soon.

All in all, it felt like a real treat to watch the show again, I really hope ITV has the rights for years to come. Where else can you see John Cena butt naked, unable to open an envelope because it’s covering his bits?

ONE SHOT:                Convict Waiting

I have condemned myself to death. It is my own doing. I think back to when I was free, it was another time, it feels like a distant memory of someone else’s life. Where did that carefree impulsive mother and wife go? I am now told when I can eat, when I should sleep by women in uniform blue, but the daring girl hidden beneath fights it. Thoughts keep me awake, yet consist of nothing. Insomnia creeps in, another cage that traps my night. I am waiting, yet the only fate that awaits me is death. The walls that confine me are grey, bare, motionless, a reflection of the person I have become.  

I can not imagine myself as before, randomly deciding to take a walk, reading in a meadow, nature’s beauty and kaleidoscopic landscape, wet blades of grass beneath my feet. Simple sounds I took for granted, the disturbance of birds, the rustle of leaves in autumn as the wind blows a gentle breeze. I wish I had taken the time when the opportunity was there. So many times, I was given it. I should have noticed the shape of the trees towering above my head, relished in the feel of the sun’s rays against my cheek, and taken solace in the fresh salty air of the sea as the waves crashed ferociously on the shore.

How will I be remembered? The truth is I will not. Memories will fade of those who knew me, my identity diminishing to nothing more than a name on a list. I will become one of many who once trod on the path years before leaving no trace.

The ignorance of youth, the facade of invincibility. I will go out the way I came into the world, scared, screaming, and terrified of what comes next. The safety of small, limited surroundings, with nothing to do but wait. At least in the womb, I had the comfort of my mother’s voice. As I take my last breath, will she be waiting for me again? Guide my soul toward heaven and eternity watching over the living? That is the best I can hope for now.

If there is a God, has he heard my prayers? I have begged and pleaded to be saved, but so far, he has forsaken me or judged my crime as too great to be forgiven. I fear the non-believers are right, and everything I know even this cell, my thin blanket, and my cursed hard mattress will disappear from my consciousness and nothing will remain after the rope mercilessly tugs violently against my neck.

I crave the touch of another, to feel life. I remember the simple things: the weight of my dog on my lap. The warmth and love from one so innocent simply seeking affection and compassion and return it in gratitude and joy.

My feet drag now, and I walk slowly. A stark contrast from who I was before, always rushing. Now I try to make each moment last longer, as if time shall pause if I will it hard enough.

Why didn’t I do more? Why didn’t I make a difference? I was so taken with short-term happiness, never thinking of the consequence. Surrendering to temptation and impulse at every possibility, never mindful of the ramifications of any of my actions.

Who will miss me? I have brought my children nothing but shame. My husband, I have betrayed on so many levels. Any unfortunate I have called my friend, I have deceived over and over driving away any chance of hope of repentance. My lover whose quick fixes of passion will dull until I am forgotten. A new seduction and lover, no doubt, already shares his bed. Why did I risk so much?

And then my biggest mistake, albeit one of many that has sealed my future. Stolen it away. Why was I so blind with the price I would have to pay? My body feels heavy with each waking breath. These thoughts of regret serve no purpose, yet I am silently screaming in anger at my foolishness.

I am existing, wasting another minute when there are so few I have left. Long days of solitude, yet I wish for more.

I don’t want to die. Yet the countdown continues.

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