My male muses......

Welcome to happy Thursday. Almost didn't manage to write this blog, the week has been crazy.

Anyway, one of the revisions in my MS was to give my male lead Ryder/Robert a voice. Because the story is a romantic fantasy, part of what I felt was missing was his view on things. At the beginning he is quite typical of an Alpha male. In his world of Annwn men are by nature more dominant over the female and he was looked upon as being a leader. He's tall at nearly six foot,with shaggy, inky- black hair, he's muscle bound and physically strong. His melted warm chocolate eyes, can penetrate even the most vitriolic female. As with many Alpha males, he's comfortable in his own skin and he's not ashamed to reveal himself, as he's confident of his appeal. He believes strongly in being positive even under stress. He's a problem solver, he accepts things as they are and looks for a solution. He pushes Mia to her boundaries and challenges her, but ultimately he respects her and all that she is. He's open to change and self discovery, although he's scared of losing all that he has. He's vunerable because he's an open book and although this makes his relationship with Mia intense and intimate he's terrified that it also makes him weak. He does change in the story, living in the modern world where the roles of men and women are more equal, he discovers that Mia is strong, independant and totally capable of making decisions too. To ensure their future, he know's he will have to relinquish some of the control and they will have to work together.

His flaws are ultimately stepping down and sharing the leadership with Mia and his jealously over her relationship with Alex. Everything was predetermined in Annwn, families were aligned from an early age. In the human world, there is so much choice and although he accepted Annwn's way, it's was all he'd ever known and believed, he starts to see what this world has to offer. He has a penchant for peanut butter,eating out of the jar with his fingers, he loves to stargaze and he can sing.  I think the two have an amazing chemistry, fireworks of both passion, contempt, distrust, and then mutual respect. I've heard a lot about muses lately and in creating my character for Robert/ Ryder I cannot pin down one particular muse there are many, above are a sample of the inspiration for this character. It really helps to have a visual to write about.

Check out the link below it gives some tips for writing a paranormal romance that I found helpful.Thanks for looking.

                                                        Small excerpt from Chapter 7

“I’m glad you’re here, I didn’t think you’d come. I was never in any danger of getting hurt, I could sense your fear,” he said, baring his perfect white teeth.

Tingles prickled along her spine and shivered as he spoke. She was an open book to him, it unnerved her, and she tried to ignore him. Any minute Alex could walkover and there would be a massacre. Added to that, she knew without a doubt he was anything but an ordinary boy. His remarks confirmed it. Even at a distance and whilst playing football, he had known she was worried about him. She stared into his eyes that reached for her and slammed her angry words into his mind; You have to leave me alone.

Then when and where, because we need to talk, his words were gentle but strained as they raced through her head.  I’m not going to hurt you, when will you realize that. There was no escaping him. They were the same, whatever that meant.

“I have to go or Alex will come looking…..” she said tearing her eyes away from his.

“You cannot keep doing this,” he said

His hand blocked her exit. She turned and caught his taut face inches away from hers. His smiled had vanished, and then he sighed with exasperation and ran his hand through his tassled hair. He removed his arm and turned to face a very stony looking Alex. His eyes looked like a stormy sea and his mouth was pulled into a thin straight line. His shoulders were pulled back but Robert was still an inch or two taller. Alex’s face was strained; he was trying very hard to control his annoyance as he looked from Mia to Robert.

“You played well, good win,” he said.

“Thanks. There’s a party to celebrate if you’d all like to come?” he said.

Alex cocked his head to the side, inspecting Robert up and down through narrowed eyes. Mia held her breath and waited to see what he would say.

“Not tonight mate, another time. I just came to get Mia, our food is ready.”

With that he reached for her hand and pulled her away. Mia’s hair flicked over her shoulders as she passed Robert by and knew it was not finished, she bit her lip and tried to calm the storm she was feeling from Robert.

Please not here.  But the atmosphere was all heat and fury,his aura darker to a murky green and she knew it was coming, like it or not.

“Mia, is that what you want?” Robert called.

Alex snapped his head around, taking a good look at Robert and then marched over passed Mia and headed up close to Robert. They faced each other and then Alex launched.

“What is it with you Mathews, winning the game not enough? Mia’s with me, are you blind?” Alex said. Robert called out beyond Alex, he wouldn’t let go.

“Is that right Mia, are you with Alex?” Robert dared to ask.

There was absolute silence, Mia felt the tiny hairs stand up on the back of her neck, her stomach ached and her head roared. What on earth was Robert playing at; he didn’t seem to care how upset Alex was or how awkward it made things for her. They were fighting over her like children, both wanting the same toy.

“I don’t belong to anyone. I’m going to eat, then I’m going home.”  Their volatile conversation had attracted a crowd, curious as to what the ruckus was all about. Alex didn’t budge.

“Mia, I want to sort this out, what the hell is going on?” he said.

He turned to stare directly at her and blocked Robert completely out of view. Mia wished the ground would just swallow her up, why had Robert forced this situation, it was all his doing. Right now she could gladly thump him. She had intended to discuss everything well almost everything with Alex tonight, now they were becoming a very public spectacle.

“Alex there is nothing going on, please can we just go” she said in a hushed voice.

She felt annoyed with Robert for putting her in this predicament. Although, she knew that it was her fault too. Some of the Blue Crusaders had gathered now and they looked eager for a fight and were poised ready to join in, if there should be one. She couldn’t stand it any longer. Her face was scarlet; there was a movement amongst the crowd, a girl from the cheerleaders appeared. Mia didn’t know her name, but she was the same one from the night of the concert and here she was again searching for Robert.

“Rob, come on I want to go to the party, can we leave,” Robert glared at Mia.

The girl was very pretty and it was obvious, she wanted his undivided attention. The crowd erupted again chanting.” “Party….party”.

Robert said simply, “Sorry.”

Again Mia wasn’t sure who the apology was aimed at, but he turned and left. Some of the tension between her and Alex left too but she felt hollow inside. As they returned to their table, they sat and ate  in an uncomfortable silence.  

http://nighthag.hubpages.com/hub/Writing-Paranormal-Romance-5-Tips-To-Remember

Do you have what it takes to write ?

Every day I ask the above question and I ponder this. Then I shake my head and yell, "Hell yes." Then I buckle down and work. Yes, it is work. Just, because I'm at home I take this as seriously, as if I went out to work and sat in an office. I sit at my desk, I run over scenes, sometimes I talk to my characters, yes don't catch me in one of those moments, because I must look like a complete lunatic. I read through my writing and I try to analyse my characters motivation, goal and conflict. Then, I try to make sure that the scene is moving along at a good pace by showing the action of the scene. There is a lot of free thinking but a lot of careful planning.

Suzanne Collins talks about her routine for writing;

“I grab some cereal and sit down to work as soon as possible. The more distractions I have to deal with before I actually begin writing, the harder focusing on the story becomes. Then I work until I’m tapped out, usually sometime in the early afternoon.
“If I actually write three to five hours, that’s a productive day. Some days all I do is stare at the wall. That can be productive, too, if you’re working out character and plot problems. The rest of the time, I walk around with the story slipping in and out of my thoughts.”


I can totally empathise with her comments, if I'm distracted it's a nightmare trying to get back into where you were, because you step out of character and lose the sense of where the hell you were. I also agree there are many times when simply sitting and thinking, although it may seem wasted time,sometimes you own mind is working and solving problems for you. The brain is an amazing piece of machinery, essentially a muscle, but oh so much more and even when you are not necessarily trying to solve a problem the brain can come up with solutions. It's almost as if it's so fined tuned into your thoughts, it can anticipate what you need. I believe. Amazing !


Anyway last night I was so excited to be going to an authors book reading/signing at a local bookstore, but I came away feeling somewhat let down. I don't know what bothered me the most, the lady's disillusionment with the publishing industry or her own conflict in deciding to continue to write or pursue another adventure entirely. One, I suspect that is more profitable ??

To me and I may well be alone in this, when you are standing there, you should have a duty as an author to put on a face, providing encouragement and inspiration ?? I know the world can be grey and gloomy, we all know the roller coaster ride for most writers,  and I certainly don't sit here writing thinking, well, one day I'll be a millionaire. But if your disillusioned, DONT WRITE GIVE IT UP - do something else. Don't stand there debating the dilemma because your not earning enough through writing books, don't sit on the fence and moan about it, especially whilst waving your book, hoping someone will buy it?

Is this just me??? After watching a new writer Liz Michalski  http://www.lizmichalski.com  attend her first book launch (over a year ago), her book was called,  Evenfall. I remember watching her and studying her stance, the way she dressed, her carefully composed address to the audience. It was personal, she gave a small rendition of her life and what had led her to this moment. She then talked about her book and how she had been inspired to write it, adding a little of her journey in getting published. I sat there with goosebumps, I remember feeling and still feel, Oh god I will never be able to do that, she's incredible.  She was inspiring and I felt so excited for her. I really was in awe seeing someone achieve their goal of having their story in print! It's amazing.

Am I being too hard, too naive therefore when I listen to an author who really has lost the glow of why she is writing, bogged down with realism. I believe if you decide to write, it must be all or nothing and not necessarily for monetary gains because your setting yourself up for failure right there. But this disillusionment is not new. In my very short life, so far, this was the second occasion where I really felt there are writers out there that have become completely jaded by the experience so much so that they question whether to pursue another career.

 The first lady writer was someone who I paid to critique my work,she was a published author and albeit my MS must have been when I look back,less than desirable,but her own story, her reference to her journey, was so melancholy. If I had taken to heart the fact that being isolated makes you depressed, then I think I would have given the game up right then and there, maybe that was her goal.
I will say, I think that writing suits perhaps certain people, with perhaps certain psychological traits. Meaning, people who perhaps are more inclined to be socially introverted, not necessarily shy but people who choose to opt out socially. These people I suspect are like hibernating animals they only come out when all the writing is done or the need for company or caffeine supersedes anything else.

 Yes, there are days when  it really SUCKS, days when you QUESTION YOUR VALUE as a writer and wonder if you'll ever write one sentence that someone will love. But, and I'm not sure if every writer feels the same, I find the art of creating the story so exciting and exhilarating that for me that is what it's all about. If I stopped being able to imagine how my characters look, what they think and how they dress and what drives them to make the choices they make, then I would give up.

Working in isolation is for me, necessary, but I belong to 2 critique groups I hope to send some chapters to friends for feedback I have also sent chapters to another lady who specialises in critiquing. I belong to several writing forums on line. I read and share my opinions there, surrounding myself with other writers. I think that it's vital when you are starting out to have that connection with like minded people to gain support and maybe that helps when those dark days of depression lurk. And I really love a good old knees up with the girls, it helps to keep me going.

But going back to the book signing from last night, you have to picture an idealistic virgin in the world of writing where everything is full of promise and excitement. That's me, bright and shiny, willing to believe she can get through anything that other friends, writers, publishers or agents may throw at her. However, going to a book signing and listening to an author go on about how she is not sure whether she wants to continue to write because the publishing world is so narrow- minded and difficult, just threw me for six.,

I'm sorry, but her story is there for all to read. It's in print, someone has taken the risk  and published her work. I have a copy, I didn't want to know that she's torn between writing or focusing on her company that specialises in energy savings devices. My mouth honest to god dropped. I hope that if one day I was lucky enough to stand there before a live audience talking about my book, that would dominate my entire conversation.

 I'm sorry if I seem mad, but honestly in today's climate where it seems anyone can get a book published via Amazon  and I know because I have. It was awful, my first ever go at writing a short story, completely inexperienced in the world of self-publishing and yet it's there for anyone to purchase, but I cringe because the writing is awful. I do whole heartily agree that self-publishing is a platform to allow so many writers to fly, but I also agree with the author I met last night that it's killing the book and the need for the wonderful cosy bookstores that sell them. Everything, is becoming mass produced and although it allows an enormous amount of books to be published, it seems the flood gates have been opened, allowing some really awful, horrendous books to seep through.

I guess I'm being idealistic, the author who shall remain nameless was being honest, the world of publishing is becoming a members-only club. Which makes it's virtually impossible for new writers to get published. As for me, if I focused on that goal alone and believed that, then I would have to seriously question why am I bothering. So I file it away,  I don't want to think about that, because I have so many ideas for books, not just this one and I want to keep going. I want to keep believing that if you work hard enough, believe passionately enough, then one day you'll get there.  But it was very deflating to listen to an author who has 4 books published to her name, seem so disillusioned, it made me very sad. But writers have to make a living and when they don't earn enough and the experience for them has lost it's appeal, then they become teachers, real-estate agents or energy efficient consultants.

I hope that writers keep writing or where will the world be without brilliant books to read and stories to share and inspire all of us?

“Books are the carriers of civilization. Without books, history is silent, literature dumb, science crippled, thought and speculation at a standstill. Without books, the development of civilization would have been impossible. They are engines of change (as the poet said), windows on the world and lighthouses erected in the sea of time. They are companions, teachers, magicians, bankers of the treasures of the mind.

Books are humanity in print.”
― Barbara W. Tuchman

tags: books , civilization , humanity

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How to Become a Professional Writer | eHow.com

How to Become a Professional Writer eHow.com

In my work space which is situated at the back of my house, overlooking the garden, it is in fact the sun room, but I have acquired it. I don't take up too my space. I have a small desk with my computer and monitor, a small bookcase with paper, files, newspaper clippings, magazines, and a selection of must haves a dictionary, a thesaurus, and a selection of books I am reading including 1984, Evenfall, a collection of short stories by F.S.Fitzgerald, and Pride and prejudice. I love this room because it doesn't matter whether it is the winter, spring or any of the seasons, there is always activity in my garden, and I find it lovely to look at. My choice of a location as a writer, if I  was able to pick, would definitely be over looking the sea. Natural beauty is very inspirational, and to be able to go for walks along the beach, and think through stories must be heaven.

So I am in awe of  writer Susan Wiggs, who lives in a beautiful beach front home on Bainbridge Island, on the West Coast. She say's, "Having a water view from anywhere in the house is essential to my creative process. I find my best ideas on the beach or in the forest, picking up story lines and plot twists like colorful bits of sea glass on the beach or pinecones in the woods." I love that because it is so true, I remember walking around the MFA in Boston, and bringing a note book with me. I started to write about some of the statues of Buddha,recording their meaning and  history thinking at some point I may want to use it, somewhere in a story. I think you have to be open to everything, as you never know when you may need to use it and some things just stand out as being worthy of writing about.


Anyway, this week has been particularly frustrating, after believing I had the answer to rewriting by having two screens with which to work from, my computer decides it has had enough and starts a rebellion. I swear it is taking over, and changing the font and format, basically driving me crazy with its stopping, and starting, it freezes then un freezes, argh. Added to that, is the fact it has been incredibly busy with the boys, having all manner of appointments, a welcome delivery of a new settee, and love seat, which obviously means some preparation ie cleaning the room, the skirting board, the windows, polishing the shelves, cleaning the carpets, sorting out all the cupboards, and toys, which takes a morning. Hence to say, I feel as if I am going nowhere fast. This sets off a sense of panic, as I realise the kids are only in school for just over 7 weeks and I wonder if my rewriting will be finished by then ???? How does anyone with children manage to finish their writing ????

A snap shot of the small town Mia lives in , taken from Chapter One,

Climbing up the steps that lead onto our front porch, there is a sign which reads 1895, the year the yellow colonial house was built, as you enter through the large, oak front door you find yourself inside a wide generous foyer, with chestnut colored hardwood floors that lead throughout the entire house. When we first moved in the décor was rather dated, with floral wall paper covering most walls; and the kitchen was tired looking too, with old appliances and units. Mum had said it was a project that she could not wait to work on, the house definitely needed some tender loving care and a new lick of paint everywhere. However, I had been pleased, because I had my own bathroom which was great, no more waiting in line, also another good thing was the fact it was downtown, which meant we had pavements.

              This meant it was safe to walk and you had somewhere to go, strolling into town you pass by a variety of cheerfully painted houses, all styles and sizes, the streets are lined with trees that sprout pretty pink and white blossoms in spring. Walking downtown which is only a couple of minutes away, you pass by a brillant white Gothic facade church, with striking spires ontop of the towers, and an impressive black and gold clock, the church is well over a hundred years old. Then you reach the small centre, where there are a couple of second hand stores, several   hairdressers, and in a red brick building the town offices. Also, nearly every day you can hear the sirens calling out from the fire trucks as they leave the station, which is housed right in the middle to attend an emergency. Across from the fire station, is a small modern mall which includes a busy coffee shop, a pharmacy, and a popular diner, where on any given day you can smell the wonderful aroma of freshly cooked bread, from the newly opened bakery. The smell always makes you feel so hungry, it is hard to walk past.

I am not sure if this gives a real sense of the town I am trying to "Breathe life into my words"

"Awriters tool box contains, words, imagination, a love of books, a sense of story and ideas for how to make the writing live and breathe. Writing can be hard and it can take years to be the kind of writer you want to be."     Ralph Fletcher.

Also check out my short story The Vineyards of Allegretti let me know what you think ,

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004VXLM3G

Colorful rockstar - This is for you Jenny

I read somewhere that when ever you have the opportunity to travel if you are a writer, seize this chance and use it, as it serves to feed the writers mind and creativity. As I am driving to Washington DC for vacation ( I now have a pen everywhere I go and a notebook of some sort) I find myself doodling words about the way the sky looks. I could not help it, we were driving past the Tapenzee bridge in New York and I wished we could have stopped to take a picture. It was dusk and the sun was a pale pink , the sky was was like a striped Blue Raspberry and Cotton Candy Icee it was so pretty. The song colorful came on and I just melted, there seemed to be such harmony. I had to write it down and several adjectives, just to describe the sky. Who knows when you may need to remember that scene? I feel as if I need to capture everything, in case I may need to use it when writing? Is that the same for any one else?

It has been two weeks since I last really worked on my novel, that's my confession. I admit I have felt quite bereft. Also, a tiny bit scared that I will never be able to pick up where I left off, or indeed ever finish it, or be able to think of anything else to write. After writing a short story a couple of weeks ago, I proved to myself somewhat, that I am capable of other ideas but even so. This week as I was on holiday from my novel, The Promise, I did have two further ideas that gave me a wonderful thrill. Firstly maybe another short story taken out of the novel called Sundara, telling the tale of Robert and Mia, before they go on their time travelling quest, looking at their life in this marvelous place in the future and the constraints it places on them. Then, I had a completely off the block idea about a serious topic of adolescent bullying, the ramifications and consequences, for the victim and the bully. Told from the view of the victim, who after committing suicide comes back to haunt the bully. Her mission is to get the bully to confront her treatment of others and make changes for the better, then she can enter heaven??? Not sure if this is a completely ludicrous idea?

So, I have started a notebook particularly dedicated to write down ideas for stories. When my oldest son was in High school I began to think there were so many important issues that  adolescents face and go through.It can be a heart wrenching experience, full of first's. High's and low's. I longed at the time  to write a serious young adult novel. So this is all research for the time when I feel I can tackle such a deep topic with skill, sensitivity and warmth. And after a lot of research and insight!


Anyway, will try to start some rewriting this week. However, and I dont know if this is the case for anyone else but if I know I have something else in my diary to do, I feel I cannot settle to write. Tomorrow is a big ?? as I am either in school volunteering or home looking after my little one, who was home sick today. Will see what the night brings. So possibly I can start again, Wednesday ? After meeting with my consult who is a lovely lady, very inspiring and talented, I am thinking I need to retitle my write up about my blog, taking out the fixed goal of a year, as I am pretty sure it is going to take me longer to finish the novel, maybe longer than I ever imagined, but I will endeavour. Thank you .

Good books are alike in that they are truer than if they had really happened and after you are finished reading one you will feel that all that happened to you and afterwards it all belongs to you; the good and the bad, the ecstasy, the remorse, and sorrow, the people and the places and how the weather was. -Ernest Hemingway

Carrie Ryan Book Video Award 2008 Finalist (The Forest of ...

I know I said I would not post again this week, however as this is a diary, when there are events that I need to record so that I can reflect upon them, an exception is made. Yesterday, was the worst day so far in the 7 months I have spent as a full time writer. After submitting a short story to Amazon Kindle as a test  and to gain some experience, I was shocked that within 48hrs I had received an email, congratulating me on the publication of my first ebook. I have to admit I didn't quite get the euphoria I was expecting. It is my hope one day to be published via the traditional route, but I thought as a new, inexperienced, writer with no history in print, I should start somewhere.

Anyway, as soon as I realised my book was available, I made the very quick and rash decision to notify everyone and anyone, sending the link off to my friends, posting it on Face book, attaching it to my blog, in fact any avenue I could think of,  I pasted the necessary details. Then I took a breath and thought very nostalgically, lets just take a look, I cannot tell you how many times I have read and re/read, but it had about a week since I last checked. Well, I nearly died,  words popped out at me that were either completely wrong or were spelt incorrectly, I was mortified. What was worse was the fact that it takes 24hrs for publishing and in that time you cannot make any changes. Leaving me sinking right into the floor, wanting to hide away from everyone, my head was throbbing so much I thought it might explode. I did not know quite frankly whether to laugh or cry last night. After waiting until 10.30 last night to see if the book would be active, which didn't happen. I went to bed, very unhappy even after eating several dark chocolate, coconut filled bars, the mini one's.

Needless to say I couldn't sleep. The thought that friends, people I know, anyone, would buy something that regardless of the quality of the story, it's likability, the characters, the fact that someone would pay money for a book where the spellings are less than what they should be or the very story does not make sense because of the incorrect words, literally made me want to cry. I question whether I have what it takes to really go through this journey as there are so many components to it, I get so impatient and frustrated at my own lack of knowledge, rushing almost, feeling as if I am late for a very important meeting. I am not sure why I feel this way, perhaps because I am a late bloomer, perhaps because I feel intimidated by other writers who seem so steeped in experience, knowledge, an unlimited vocabulary and just pure brilliance.

Anyway, this morning it was Live, so I went back in and requested that my husband act as a proofreader for me. He reads very slowly, which is perfect as he is thorough and after checking through it again, we reformatted the file and sent the updated version. The story is still the same, that has not changed however I now feel that at least you can focus on the story and the characters, rather than the mistakes . It teaches me to take a break from the manuscript, no matter whether it is a novel or a short story, see it with clear eyes and definitely get someone else to read it through. I have learned that whether your work is published via Kindle or the Traditional route, whether it is a short story or a novel ,your name is out there and it is terrifying.  I want my name to be remembered for the correct reasons,  to build up a credible resume, and to feel proud of my work. To do any of this takes time I have to learn not to rush and to understand the power of being in print. I endeavour to learn from my mistakes and move on.

I am taking a break now . After the holidays I have a meeting with my consult, I plan then to print out the whole manuscript make the changes by hand, and then go chapter by chapter rewriting the promise back onto the computer. This is a big decision for me, it is not starting all over again, but it is taking a new look at my work, rather than copying and pasting which is driving me to distraction as I completely lose all sense of the story. So, whereas I estimated the rewriting phase to be  around 2 weeks I am going to surpass that and at this stage I leave it wide open. I am not going to give up, my confidence in my ability is shaken , I can only apologise to those who bought the ebook already and if you want a refund let me know.



Experience is the name everyone gives to their mistakes.
More funny Oscar Wilde quotes

Getting the Words Right.

Last week was a strange week for me, I had my final consultation for an hour by phone. Many things were said, so many I began to take notes, letting my helper simply speak and give me her ideas and feedback. On many issues we agreed which was a relief, I am so new to this experience that I kept waiting for her to tell me more. However when it came to a close I realised her words were true, at the end of the day the best critic is yourself, because you look to find fault and it is actually really hard to believe, when someone pays you a compliment. So armed with another plan I spent most of the week trying to edit and reorganise my work.

Unexpectedly, then I was introduced through a friend, to a lady who is a writer herself, discovering someone who is going through the same experiences that you are is so important, as you always need support. It is difficult to find anyone who wants to talk about writing and about all the issues involved for any length of time, unless it is someone equally passionate about it. So even though most weeks I have been a reclusive person, only venturing out for the odd weekly coffee with a friend. I did arrange to meet up, so excited to be able to talk shop.

Not only did I make a lovely friend but she inspired me to venture into the unknown. As a result I found myself taking a break from my novel and writing a short story, which I then submitted on Monday to Roar, who are actively seeking submissions for their magazine. It was a challenge, I was not sure I could take my head out of my novel, and create something new, plus I wanted to complete it fairly quickly so that I could resume with my long term project. Anyway, I managed to submit just under 5000 words I am not sure it is really any good, but I felt pleased that I was able to at least write something. Check out the web site below for submission guidelines.

Last week felt long and it occurred to me that writing is not a quick fix, I know every time I look at my work I think I need to make it better. It is a labour of love, and you need to have incredible stamina, because getting anything published is even harder, and I am beginning to worry that may never happen. The only way to continue is to improve and work harder. As always feedback is important, those of you who I have shared my work with, I do put myself out there, because I need to know what people think that way I can get better, I may not be quite there yet but one day, who knows!

Finally, I would love to start a writers group, it would be great to meet up locally to share our experiences and to be able to bounce ideas off one another, if anyone would be interested or knows of anyone please let me know, best wishes.

More than a half, maybe as much as two-thirds of my life as a writer is rewriting. I wouldn't say I have a talent that's special. It strikes me that I have an unusual kind of stamina.
John Irving

Interviewer: How much rewriting do you do?
Hemingway: It depends. I rewrote the ending of Farewell to Arms, the last page of it, 39 times before I was satisfied.
Interviewer: Was there some technical problem there? What was it that had stumped you?
Hemingway: Getting the words right.
(Ernest Hemingway, "The Art of Fiction," The Paris Review Interview, 1956)

www.roarmagazine.org   Check out this web site if interested in submitting short stories, poems closes 15th April. 

Just breathe

When you pursue something and it is a hobby, an interest, merely something you undertake to pass the time, there is no pressure, just pure enjoyment. Last week after a fabulous start on Monday with lovely comments from my consult I began to develop a serious sensation of complete and utter panic. Mounting into a frenzy of frustration, whereby my head literally could not settle to logically plan how I was going to achieve what I felt I needed to achieve within a really short period of time. If I was a single person with no other commitments than this, there would be no problem however this weekend I found myself at odds with everyone. My husband and I almost fell out, as he feels neglected, my kids want my attention too, even the cat looks to me to be fed. I admit my inexperience in this endeavour is showing through, when I get nervous I cannot do anything, I freeze, burying my head and trying to only focus on what I think is important, which by the end of last week was the book.

After a good night sleep I realise it is not the most important issue in the world and I am attempting to calm myself and readdress my anxieties. Especially after I found myself at the middle school at 7.30am for a meeting that is to be held tomorrow. It is at this point I realise I have probably lost the plot somewhere. I can laugh now  and it will work out better as my husband who is now talking to me will be able to attend also. This week it is my intention to remain on track review what my consult says today, deep breathe, and plan, how I proceed from here trying not to feel rushed. Cheers for listening
This small excerpt is when the band play before an audience for the first time they use their songs to send out  positive messages. Would welcome any feedback, looking to improve the music element part of the story, trying to capture the essence of a live performance as I think this part needs to be explored a bit more.

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        We moved quickly, the others already there getting organized, and ready to play. We took to the stage, waiting behind the closed curtains. Excitement building, I could barely speak, just winking at Danni as we each took to our place on the stage, my heart is running, pure adrenaline pumping through me, it is as if I am someone else, I feel calm and ready, full of anticipation. We can hear the crowd going crazy; they know it is us, as they shout out impatiently for us to begin. Principal Grayson is speaking out in the front beyond the curtain, which is all that separates us,

“Finally ladies, and gentlemen, please give a very warm welcome to our very own senior group called, “Fusion” singing their debut song called, “The Promise”.

        With that there was a thunderous sound of screams, and shouts it was crazy. Then the curtains opened. There is silence for a moment. Then the music starts. Danni slowly begins to weave her magic on the violin, Morgan and Alex join in strutting around strumming their electric guitars, and finally Evan adds to the group bringing them altogether creating harmony on his drums. The music is very upbeat and catchy, as I hear the melody, I begin to sway to the sound, the words I know by heart, as the rhythm invades me, I am someone else, letting go, singing the words of love, and longing. I am alive with no inhibitions. Staring into the abyss that is the audience, my voice is loud, strong and sure of the message it is delivering, full of passion believing without question in the words of love. I close my eyes reliving my fantasy, as I open them slowly; the face I had searched for was there before me, watching me closely. As I continue with the song it is as if I am singing directly to him. I cannot help it, he is drawing me in.

         I held the microphone tight in my hand, as I twist and turn, my left arm raised way up in the air, the song is about love and how it overcomes many obstacles, my eyes are wide, my lips are dry, my vision again turns to look into Roberts face, he is transfixed with the scene as I sing the last words,

“One life, one love, for always ... “

The song ends, and I close my eyes bending to say thank you, there was a hushed silence, and then a waterfall of wild applause, screams, and whistles. It was totally unbelievable as if the gods had been watching us from on high, all my nervousness had vanished, and I had loved being on stage, everyone seemed to feel the same. I had not wanted it to end. The curtain drew together signaling the finish. I was hot, and thirsty reaching for some water, Danni came over towards me and we just hugged and laughed,

“That was awesome” Morgan said, we all agreed.

Everyone was ecstatic, talking all at once, overcome with emotions and excitement. I could feel perspiration running down my back; it was hot on stage under the lights. Alex walked over to me, grabbed hold of me around the waist and without any warning kissed me straight on the lips, it was silly to pull away, it had been an amazing night. When at last he stopped, he looked deeply into my face,

“I couldn’t take my eyes of you. It was amazing, you were shining.” he said so excited not letting go of his hold on me. He looked around, his face flushing he was quite overcome with emotion,

“You were all fantastic.“He said to everyone and we all hugged together.

 Principal Grayson appeared,

"One of the symptons of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one's work is

           terribly important,"                     Bertrand Russell

Update, after an hour long consult I am happy to report again some lovely comments but I am not going to run away with these wonderful words of encouragement. As I want now reorganise my story and truly decide which way I want the story to read. It is a love story for young adults that spans time it concerns a promise that was made and ultimately the challenges that brings when faced with existing in a different  less restrictive setting, where there are more choices. It is a fantasy, that asks can true love exist and survive all things. My panic behind me now, as I acknowledge I will not be ready for the Muse. I cannot be ready by the 6th so I am adjusting my timetable for a further 2 weeks to revise my manuscript and then begin to write my query letter and synopsis. Cheers Love feedback, advice, xx