Happiness Is ....A Pencil And Paper.

Hello everyone
      Life doesn't get any better. We now have only 14 days left before we are officially homeless. The council won't help us until we have seen Dan the housing officer. We were supposed to see him on 17th March but he never materialised and we've not seen or heard from him since. Every day we visit the council offices but the elusive Dan is either out, on holiday or off sick; I'm beginning to think he doesn't exist. We even tried to private rent as there are still no council properties to bid on, but they want six months rent plus fees, which equates to about £6000. We asked the council for help, but guess what? 'You need to see Dan.'
     On the plus side, my novel is coming on in leaps and bounds. Nine CV'S later I still have no job, but I do have a lot of free time and I think it is keeping me sane. (It's the only thing in my life I have control over) So far it's undergone a through rewrite and is, I feel in much better shape. My characters usually bend to my will, although one has gone off on a tangent and it's nice to know, that even if Janet is a fictional character, she's having a worse time than me but at least I can help her.
     It's strange how things change, that novel used to drive me to the edge of insanity, but now it's the only thing keeping me sane. In two weeks time I'm not sure where I'll be, hostel, bedsit, living in my car or a cardboard box on the common, but wherever I am you can be sure my novel will be with me.
     Until nest time .... if there is one, I wish you all good luck with your writing and your life as you never know what's around the next corner.

Its All Over.

Hello everyone
      It's all over now, the home has closed its doors and my final shift has ended. It was quite sad, the last resident left with tears in her eyes and so did I. Although I moaned about it, after ten years the place had become a second home, better in a lot of ways than my own.
      I now have to find another job (easier said than done) as well as somewhere else to live. My paperwork has finally been processed by the council after five weeks and I can now bid on two bedroom properties, great, or so I thought, except that when I went on their website, there weren't any. Plenty of over 55's and three bed properties but no two's.
      If I were honest, I'd rather have a one bedroom flat, just me and my cats. My home life is awful, I'm stuck with a 32 year old bad tempered, moody, sulky (let's throw all the adjectives in there) son who hasn't spoken to me for days (God knows why) The atmosphere is horrendous; I'd rather pass into the next life than live like this and believe me, that thought is never far from my mind.
      However, I am in the perfect frame of mind to work on my novel and while I was on nights last week, managed to get a lot done. My main character is 14 year old Janet who has been bullied and tormented for most of her life. Just lately I have felt a strong connection with her; I can empathize. Her home life is horrible, she has no friends, she is an outcast and a loner, but to me she has become a friend and is more like me than I care to admit.
      Maybe this will be the one to launch my career, maybe it won't; I don't know, but in this made up character I have found a friend.

The End Is nigh Or Closer Than You Think.

Hello everyone
      I've always been fairly optimistic, you know, things can't get any worse, the glass is always half full. Well they can get worse and my glass, along with my spirit is broken. I appear as a swan, or so I'm told, calm and serene on the surface, but paddling away furiously beneath just to stay afloat.
     Last time I told you I was given six months to vacate my flat, well, if only that were still true. Along with my redundancy letter, I was given a new short term lease for the flat. Scanning the page quickly (I was at work) my eyes fell on the third paragraph, written in bold letters was the date 30th April. My stomach fell to my boots, my heart leapt into my mouth and I felt sick. I read the line again. Termination of short term tenancy 30th April.
     I couldn't believe what I was reading, surely this couldn't be true; if it was, I had seven weeks left. I spoke to the owner who informed me this was indeed the case, (sorry but I want you out, NOW)
     With my head reeling and my coffee threatening to leave my stomach at any second, I carried on with my duties in a daze, drove home at the end of the shift (I'm sure my car has autopilot) as I don't even remember the journey, sat down, cried and then put pen to paper . . . and wrote (I think) the most amazing, emotionally soaked piece of writing I've ever done.
     Although it didn't solve my problems, it did make me feel better, (there had to be an outlet for those all those feeling) and I had something at the end of it. So however hopeless a situation seems, try writing it all down in story form, it's amazing how those feelings flood the page, emotions you can't get to unless you are actually experiencing them.

The Best Laid Plans

Hello fellow scribblers
       I received some very upsetting news the other day; after ten years with the same company, I am being made redundant, the care home where I work is closing down in six weeks time. But if that wasn't bad enough, (oh yes, it gets worse) I've also been given six months to vacate my home. The flat is rented from the same company as my job, so no job, no home.
     I have spent the past week living under a black cloud, numb with shock. The announcement was a complete surprise to everyone, no-one knew it was coming, there were no whispers or comments, nothing.
     Needless to say, my writing has taken a back seat, (I had such high hopes for this year) all I'm writing now are CV's and job applications and instead of scouring the web for writing opportunities, I'm desperately house hunting. I feel like a character in a story, my entire world has just come crashing down around me.
      Today is valentines day and yes, my romantic interest surprised me with a beautiful silken gothic cushion depicting a raven, a huge box of chocs and a gorgeous card, (by the way, these are the first valentine gifts I have ever received) and while I was over whelmed by them, (I never realised he felt that way) the whole feeling of the day was overshadowed by recent events.
      I don't know how things will turn out, my foreseeable future looks rather bleak, but you never know, a year from now I might get a story out of it.
     Until next time, I wish you all good luck and ask that you appreciate what you have, as you never know when you could lose it.

Write What You See.

Hello fellow scribblers,
     I thought this time you might like to see where my inspiration for the story of the orphanage came from, so for the first time I'm including pictures, (at least I'm going to try) The building itself was called The Babies Castle and was an actual orphanage, before being turned into a care home and then a pile of rubble.
     As I've said before, the building was amazing, so atmospheric, no wonder I was inspired. From the crumbling walls and wilderness garden full of forgotten little memories, to a cobweb decorated light switch, blackened bed linen and a long abandoned tinselled tree.
     If you put all these ingredients together and have an imagination as weird as mine, you'll be surprised what you can come up with. My story is entitled 'The Last Christmas' and is a ghost story, although not a traditional one.
     I am still writing every day,(I haven't missed a single one yet) and have almost finished the second and hopefully final draft of said story. I've also decided to try and write a complete short story every month and submit it, so I've been searching the web for small press and online publications. They don't pay much, sometimes only a contributors copy, but at least it gets my name out there.
     My novel is still gathering dust, (the more I read of it, the more unhappy I am with it) Over half way through and I feel it needs, no, deserves a full re-write. I still like the story and find the subject matter interesting, but like my school work always said, 'could do better,' So pen in hand I scribble on. Its still January and I've already written more in three weeks than I did for half of last year and if I can do it, so can you. Happy scribbling.

the babies castle

abandoned

busy spiders

Can't See The Wood For The Trees

Hello everyone,
     Well, we're two weeks into the new year and so far I've kept my promise, (although it has been tough sometimes) I wrote six sentences the other night at 11.51pm, so determined was I to keep my promise.
     Another thing that seems determined to keep me from writing is one of my cats. Whether I'm using a pen and notebook or tapping away on the laptop, she will come and sit on top of them and it's very hard to type with a cat on the keyboard, or chewing the end of your pen. Her ample brother on the other hand, can be much worse, if he sits on the laptop, I can't even see it.
     But furry problems aside, I have almost finished the first draft of my orphanage story and finally settled on a title I'm happy with, (but forcing myself to work on only one thing at a time is hard) I've also decided to submit my short stories to writing competitions before they go into my collection as an anthology. So now I'm busy searching the web for any short story horror comps, (well you never know your luck)
     I hope to finish the orphanage this week, but then comes another problem, (yes, I'm always looking for potential problems) what to start on next? I've started three other short stories, but which one do I choose? They are all vying for my attention, begging me to finish them.
     As for my poor novel, (we've been apart for a long time) Well, I re-read half of it the other day and can already see some obvious flaws. They should be easily fixable, thank God, but maybe that just proves I needed a break from it. As I'd become so close to it, I couldn't see the problems anymore; poor writing, repeated sentences and no flow in some places. . . . .I was ashamed. I could do better, I can do better and I will. But it took the break to realise it.
     So a note of warning to anyone who's writing a novel . . . have a break from it. Put it away for a few weeks and ignore it, write something else, just don't touch it and I guarantee that when you do go back to it, you'll see it with different eyes. Good Luck and happy scribbling.

New Year, New Promises.

Hello everyone,
     As there are only a couple of days left of this year, I've made a few promises to myself; I'm loath to call them resolutions, as that's just inviting failure.
     I've promised to write every single day, even if it's just a few lines. I've also promised to finish one thing before I start another, (I have four short stories on the go as well as my novel) I never seem to finish anything lately, even my orphanage story is hanging in limbo, much to the annoyance of my friend, who keeps asking when he can read it and have I finished it yet? I get so excited at the thought of a new story, that I abandon the old ones.
     Talking of abandoned, the poor orphanage, (the focus of my short story) is now nothing but a sad, broken pile of bricks.
     We drove out to see it the other day, just to say our goodbyes, but unfortunately we were too late, the demolition squad had beaten us to it.
     It felt strange standing in the grounds amid mountains of broken bricks. A kind of sadness hung over the area, we both felt it, as if the bricks, absorbing the atmosphere of the home over the years, were slowly dying, needless to say we didn't stay long.
     I wanted to take a piece of brick or wood as a keepsake, but didn't have the heart to separate it from its kin, so left empty handed, but with a heart full of memories.
     I'm determined to keep my promises, 2015 is going to be a very productive year . . .I promise.
I wish everyone a great new writing year, whether you're a beginner or a professional, good luck to you all and a happy new year.