Tag: writer

Categories
fiction Writing

A LOCK DOWN NOVEL: 3

(a snippet of)

Chapter 3, Mary

I went to the park, to the café, to the pond and took in nature. I walked up the high street and looked into the windows of shops but didn’t buy anything. I passed many pubs but didn’t venture in and smelt the soothing smell of active cigarettes and didn’t break my eight-month streak of no smoking, not even a vape.

I even went for an early evening stroll which has frequently saved my days in the past when I have found myself in the same mood as this one, but it just felt weird. I felt as if I could have walked aimlessly for miles and miles with no change, yet usually it only takes until the bench by the river, two miles from the start, to begin to feel the benefits.

This time however, I was walking along and felt as if the whole world was spinning too fast around me. I passed a lady with a Jack Russel puppy who was walking rather slow paced but everyone else was on fast forward. She didn’t acknowledge me behind her until I got right up close. It was one of those situations where it’s difficult to gauge when to cough loudly or politely say excuse me so that the person in question will hear and precious time won’t be wasted with you remaining stuck behind them for longer. I had my earphones in so wasn’t so embarrassed as half of my attention was on the beautiful music gently seeping into my eardrums and taking me briefly out of the moment, but as I got creepily closer to her shoulder I hoped more for her to notice me and shift to the left slightly so that I could pass.

The cars seemed to be speeding, the light seemed to be darkening more rapidly than normal, the electric gates were closing fast on the big house just up the road and even objects that shouldn’t be moving appeared to have some element of momentum to them. The trees, houses, grass, roads, fences – everything. I felt as if I was high on drugs and hallucinating like I was in a dream. It didn’t feel as though my feet were capable of being firmly placed on the ground I was walking on, so quite frankly the experience was disturbing and uncomfortable as opposed to having the benefits that Dr Knoll frequently harped on about.

I had to stop moving myself to firmly place my feet on the earth and slap my face to make sure that it was reality that I was walking through and my coffee hadn’t been spiked in the café I had been in earlier in the day. I did think the man behind me in the queue looked a little dodgy and was casting his eyes on my movements for longer than I felt comfortable about. Yet I know how cynical my thoughts can be sometimes, particularly when I am alone.

Categories
fiction Writing

A LOCK DOWN NOVEL: 2

(a snippet of)

Chapter 2, Erin

Erin struggled to place Flo’s harness over her head and attach the lead because she was so overexcited for the fact that they would be leaving the house but once she had a treat in her hand and gave firm commands, Flo obeyed and they were ready to go.

Erin desperately hoped that nobody would see her because she was worried that they would judge her for taking the dog out like normal after finding out such dreadfully upsetting news about a friend. Despite her dog walk being part of the process of grieving and trying to come to terms with what had happened, she feared anybody looking on wouldn’t see it that way and instead would view it as her moving on with normality after just half a day. Part of her brain stopped her briefly claiming that her thoughts were nonsense, and nobody would be so judgemental, but a strong part kept the thoughts coming so she constantly looked around and walked at a faster pace until she reached the field.

She particularly liked the route they were taking because not many people knew the walk after the field so it was often empty and free from people so Erin’s thoughts could go wild, freely with no judgement. As the sun shone on her barber jacket, she almost wanted to remove it because it gave her such warmth, but it was the kind of weather where she was too hot with a coat on but too cool with the coat off so for now she left her outfit as it was.

She realised that her pace hadn’t slowed to normal after speed walking while on the street because she got to her special place much quicker than she usually would, but she was thankful for that as she was ready to release some emotions. That was the good thing about Erin’s special spot, it allowed her to release anything and then gave her the option to leave that emotion behind and move forward once she walked back.

She had first discovered the place when she needed to vent about the loss of her dad at such a young age. She had been fairly open about her upset to her mother but never expressed the anger she felt towards it all. The fact that they were left behind, that he was taken too early and how much impact it had on her mother, so she wasn’t strong enough to support Erin and Jack properly, which wasn’t her fault at all, they had been told that often. The special place gave her room to scream at the top of her lungs, to let it all out without anyone around to hear her or give an opinion that she didn’t welcome anyway.

It was a simple place. Just a large tree trunk on its side facing an expanse of open field with a large bush behind it so that there was no worry of anybody hiding and seeing her. As soon as she placed her backside on the wood each time an instant feeling of relief came over her. It was the same feeling she had after the two hypnosis sessions that aunt Eileen took her to and it felt amazing. This time was no exception and Erin sat, breathed in deeply and for a single moment she forgot about everything.

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations Recommendations

Isolation: best of a bad situation 4-6

As promised here are some more ideas to make lock down/isolation/social distancing/ all of those things we are currently living through more bearable.

Candles/ Incense

Creating a calm space is always healthy but more so now. Sometimes lock down has made me feel stressed because I am able to think about what is happening and think too much about everything else. Sometimes I even feel a little trapped. By lighting the many candles in my room and an incense stick, my room becomes a calm, peaceful space and I think, quite frankly, I could stay there forever!

Music

I have always harped on about how important music is to me and how I couldn’t live without it and this has remained the case during these mad times. At the beginning of the lock down, I was running at the weekend and, occasionally if I felt totally reckless, in my breaks. It was great. I was getting some exercise in, increasing my heart rate but also it was a release for my mind and my soul.

Bad knees soon put a stop to this but on walks (if without company) and always while walking to and from work each day I listen to music and I really appreciate that feeling of feeling alive.

Reading

Reading allows me to lose myself entirely. I escape into another world where, though problems potentially are many, they aren’t mine and they aren’t real. That reminds me, I must finish my book and get onto the next in the pile!

NB* since scheduling this post last week I have finished said book Grown Ups by Marian Keyes and it’s a brilliantly, feel-good, entertaining, hilarious, relatable and also heartbreaking read. I have begun The Butterfly Room by Lucinda Riley which is great so far (will let you know how I get on).

Any book recommendations welcome and I’ll keep them coming your way too.

Over and out.

H

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations Writing

In a crazy world where good things happen.

7.

From the day that panic buying began, work has been mental. Honestly, it’s been like Christmas Eve every day on repeat. Mental. This has meant that my usual writing schedule has flown quite forcefully out of the window.

I have gone from chilled, to freaking out, to chilled, to care free and back to freaking out about this. After some time I realised that there’s not much I can do about it other than ensure that I look after my body so that I can continue to help the community. That’s the priority.

Each week when I plan I prioritise. Which projects need completeing first. Sometimes I will put something on hold in order to complete others. Some weeks I manage to fit it all in. I don’t know how. It feels good.

Quickly, I made the decision not to plan during this crisis. At most I get two hours out between 7am and 6pm and I am ALWAYS exhausted. I come home, maybe eat some rubbish. Usually drink a warm beverage and sit my arse on the sofa. Productive, not.

I made the decision not to plan writing in these small windows of time because, quite frankly, what is the point. As tired as I am the writing I produce would most probably be useless and I always feel begrudged when I am FORCING myself to be creative. It should come naturally. Creativity should always come naturally.

This is so true.

On Sunday’s during this lock down, I have found myself getting my laptop out. Sunday’s is usually the day when I avoid this unless I simply feel like it. I have usually completed all tasks at hand during my carefully planned week so Sunday’s are for me.

Recently I have found so much writing inspiration on Sunday’s.

The first time was to celebrate the fact that it was sunny so I was writing outside for the first time this year. But this has continued. I have found that actually, though writing almost nothing all week, my productivity when I simply fancy it is through the roof.

I wrote three chapters of my second novel in a row. I am writing more blog posts than ever and enjoying each one I write. I’m reading loads and getting so many ideas. My creative brain is on overdrive and my notes on my phone are filling faster than ever.

I love it. The lock down has done wonders for my writing. Any creatives among you, I really hope you have found the same!

A selfishly personal tale, but still upbeat and positive so thought I’d share.

You’re welcome.

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations

This week I vow to find my personality

I am writing the first part of this blog post today, Sunday, after a week where tiredness has sucked every sense of personality out of me. I will check back in on Wednesday before posting this to see how I am getting on.

Something Dawn O’Porter wrote on her Patreon recently really resonated with me. She said: ‘Today was hard. My energy levels were zero. My personality was zero. My willingness to at least try, was zero. I really struggled.’

One of the many things that I admire about NHS workers, with the horrific shift patterns, is their energy. Aside from their incredible knowledge and skill set, their energy and enthusiasm through it all is amazing.

Never have I seen a miserable nurse, a pissed off paramedic or an impatient Doctor. It’s just not in their nature.

This past week I have found that tiredness has overruled. I’m usually smiling, at work anyway. I have to be. I work with people. Nobody wants a misery guts making them a sandwich or helping them post a parcel. I usually feel energetic and enthusiastic to help even the nuisance customers. I have a lot of patience, on the outside, and I mean it when I say thank you. Last week this was not the case.

Nurses and doctors and everything in between are tired. Of course they are. They spend their working days saving lives. I never see them crumbling to this, outwardly showing how they inwardly feel.

This week I vow to find my personality again.

To not let tiredness win. To overrule and be happy. To smile even if inside I am screaming. To find energy in any way that I can. To appreciate everything and to not put much time into negativity.

Monday arrived and I still had a bee in my bonnet. I was not having it and I couldn’t shake my negative way of being. Conversations seemed meaningless. I couldn’t even try. Everything got to me and I wondered if I would ever be the same again.

Gradually the day got better and the large gin at the end of it gave me some upbeat energy but anger still filled me. Mostly.

Tuesday came and it was like I’d been drip fed amphetamines through the night. It was lovely.

I woke up with so much more energy, ready to converse with even the slowest, dullest in society. I was working better, my brain made more sense and putting the increasing numbers of orders together didn’t feel like solving an algebra equation.

I was joking, genuinely laughing, really smiling and not getting down about tiny little nagging things. These brushed over me like the wind. I didn’t even meditate!!!!

Of course the day wasn’t perfect. Nothing ever is. Frustration came in ebs and flows and I began to think that over-tiredness and being overworked was starting to get to us all.

Yet this was mixed with laughter. Meaningless, squiffy overtired laughter but so much laughter. I felt alive again.

Wednesday morning (today) has been welcomed with a much needed lie in, a read, a slow get up and a hearty breakfast (Spaghetti hoops on toasts counts as hearty in these desperate times).

I’m feeling tired, but I’m feeling good and ready to get through another day helping others get through these terrible times.

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations

Isolation: the reality

This is all a bit strange isn’t it? I think we’re all feeling a bit weird.

I didn’t think that the isolation situation had got to me yet. All week I have been busying about at work with just a few hours out in which I cleaned my desk, played with my dog in the garden and generally enjoyed not staring at a selection of groceries working out which order they belong to (I am happy to help).

Each evening I have gulped a few beers faster than usual before crashing into a heap in the land of nod. Shattered.

Saturday afternoon was the first time I had a good amount of time to myself to experience what the majority of the nation had experienced all week. I loved it. I slept a lot, sat down a lot and enjoyed a run where more people were out wandering than usual.

I watched a film in the evening and consumed two civilized beers before taking myself to bed in my newly cleansed room. It felt good. After applying a good amount of hand cream to my ever crisping hands, I fell asleep, stinging a bit.

I woke on Sunday morning feeling fresh. It was 6:20am which was actually 5:20am and my dog was barking. No change there. Waiting it out a little to see if we would both go back to sleep, I gave in and went downstairs to boil the kettle and let my dog out for a pee (I couldn’t cope with him wetting the bed that early in the morning).

A cuppa in one hand and my dog in the other, I felt very content and headed back into my dozing slumber. The next few hours were spent in and out of consciousness. Reading, cuddling, drinking warm beverages and eating a pastry.

It got to half eleven and I text some friends in the village to see if they needed anything as I was off to Waitrose. It was like a normal Sunday. This is not a normal Sunday.

I wasn’t really thinking but assuming that my trip was essential being the first time I had left the village all week. They replied urging me, quite rightly, to stay home. So I did.

Beer – not essential. Snacks – I have plenty. Other essential items – not essential. I can do without shampoo for one day.

It made me realise that I was probably justifying my one trip, but what I really was after was sanity for my mind. I soon realised there are plenty of ways to get this inside the home. During isolation. Alone.

Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy my company, time to myself and a Sunday filled with doing absolutely nothing but when my mind is a bit crazy, which it has been for a few weeks, I struggle.

I’m not going to pretend that I am completely ok with this scenario we find ourselves in. I’m not afraid to admit that my mind is more chaotic than ever. OF COURSE IT IS, I AM A WRITER. That a trip to the beach, more than one walk, a drive out and a mooch around the shops would help. I’m just saying all of this can wait and they will come and we will look forward to them.

It isn’t essential that we go out. It is essential that we try and stay home.

I’m about to listen to Dawn O’Porter’s So Lucky podcasts while sorting another area of my room. While my mind feels wild at the moment, I know it’ll feel calmer after. Just like it would after a drive. Just like it would after a trip to the beach. Just like it would after a mooch around the shops or a sip of a beer (of which I have NONE!).

While this may be a lot more painful for so many of you, I’m just trying to say as I’m just realising myself that we all need to adapt. Those moments will come but for now there are many ways we can find peace within our minds.

Listen to the radio (perhaps not the news). Meditate. Put on your favourite playlist and dance around the house. Stare out into the sun. Appreciate the view. Tidy. Sort. Read.

I think it will do our mental health some good. I hope it will anyway.

I hope you have a peaceful Sunday x

Categories
fiction Stories Writing

Dalliance (Part 3)

He was the first person to decide things for her. He was the first to control when she got up, what she did in a day, what time she left to go home and what time she would be going out again. He didn’t much care for fashion and particularly liked her style, it was one of the things he pointed out at the early stages when he was still trying to chat her up, but if anyone decided fashion for her then it was him. He controlled everything and in waiting on his command for them to leave the field she contemplated when and how it had happened this way. For the first time since her eyes clocked him in the office three months ago, part of her felt ashamed for letting this happen.

‘Ok, now we can go,’ he instructed.

‘What if I want to stay here a little longer,’ Lisa replied, with a flirtatious tone to her voice, not meaning a word of what she was saying.

‘Then you can stay here on your own.’

Sometimes Lisa got frustrated at how Darren held so much control over her and she thought about this as they walked hand in hand back into the city, knowing that this action must stop when they reached the second bridge. As they walked the same feeling that filled Lisa whenever in Darren’s company trickled through her body. A smile covered her face and warmth was felt in her heart, his hand strong in hers. The temperature of the air felt hot on their skin too as if they were on holiday in Barcelona and heading for the next bottle of under-priced wine.

The memory of how perfect their evening had been deflected all of this frustration and she forced herself to allow the worry to leave with it and merely enjoy the moments that they had left before they both returned home. Home to their individual apartments on different streets with different families to care for. It was gone ten, but Lisa would still have to contend with Mollie’s nightmares that were happening on repeat lately and Darren would return to a peaceful household, ready for his one-year old’s morning cries at around three o’clock in the morning.

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction

2020.

2020. What a year so far. Shall we just draw a black line through it and start again? I think maybe we should.

I personally started the year with so much enthusiasm and positivity. I think we all did. It just sounds good, right? 2020.

Even numbers, round figures, a new decade and Brexit to finally happen within the first month. It was all looking so good and maybe we’d start to hear about something else in the media.

Was I right or was I right? I was right about one thing. Brexit isn’t so ‘boom boom boom’ in our faces. Instead we had storm after storm after bloody storm. Both physically and metaphorically. I love the wind but I was beginning to lose the plot with it all.

My social plans were being cancelled left right and centre – I just wasn’t risking the fury I would get into if I got on a train. Cancelled. I mean, eight hours to get back from Worcester on a Sunday, my only day off, no thank you. I wouldn’t even see my friends and that was the point of going.

It’s all too much. Bad news after bad bad sad news. Terrible. It’s really made me reevaluate life and attempt to see things from a new perspective. I haven’t cracked it quite, but I’m working hard to break through the fog.

I spent last weekend at the coast to switch off from it all, to step off this crazy world for a day or two. It worked. The buzzing chill took longer to set in than it usually does, but after 24 hours it was firmly within me.

I had experienced some of the Coronavirus chaos in witnessing the panic buying, the empty shelves and the fighting talk over loo roll, but driving down the country roads of Suffolk on Monday morning, I felt quite peaceful.

I came into work and BAM. It was everywhere. Our village shop was getting hit in the madness. Unable to keep up with the increasing stock demand. The wholesalers shelves are empty. The news and figures are terrifying. How much alcohol needs to be in a hand sanitiser and if I have that same amount within my own body is that the same?!

Everybody, quite rightly, is washing their hands profusely. It’s all we are talking about. Quarantine isn’t a word I thought would be flying around in March 2020. Lockdown. Self isolation.

IT IS ONLY MARCH!

I’m clinging tightly onto the positives in attempt to remain sane. I will work as hard as I can.

I will work to stay clean and be responsible in containing the virus.

I will work hard to keep my place of work functioning as a vital means within our small community if lockdown should happen (and of course before it does) and I will help as many people around me as possible.

I will work hard on my attitude to look at life differently. I’ll try not to bloody moan so much and be kinder to those around me.

I will work hard to be happier in general because in all of this how else can you be? I mean, spring is here and it’s getting warmer. Last night we sat outside for a drink. OUTSIDE!

It’s crazy times and we’ve all got to get through it. That’s all we can do. Meanwhile I’m going to look up that alcohol stat, reckon I can handle more than four G&Ts this evening 😉

Take care everyone, stay safe x

For links to all of my writing related stuff, my link tree is below. You can also find published work in my portfolio. My debut novel, Dear Brannagh, is available on Amazon along with the sequel Don’t Tell Jack. If you enjoy what you’re seeing here and are interested in following me on my writing journey, then please subscribe to my newsletter by dropping your name and email. There will be plenty of giveaways, news hot off the press and an honest insight into life as an author. Thank you x

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Categories
fiction Stories Writing

Dalliance (Part 2)

Tonight’s spot was a darkening skyline, an empty field and spiky grass on their bottoms. They had forgotten a blanket, or rather they intentionally didn’t bring a blanket for fear somebody would notice their plan and follow them. They always wished to be alone on these special occasions.

The sunset had been and gone in its deep orange glory and they had both captured it on their phones, purposefully not capturing an image of the two of them gazing into it and ensuring that they posted the pictures online at very different times. They felt a sunset post on Instagram looks far less suspicious than a selfie of the two of them, plainly stating their actions, but the memory of a wonderful time would still be there, captured on their phones.

‘Come on, Daz, we really should get going,’ said Lisa, noticing the dark and pre-empting the questions that she would receive on her return home.

‘Please. One moment more.’

Once again Darren’s authority had won her over and she remained seated for half an hour longer than she would have done if on her own.

Lisa had always been such an independent individual and never relied much on anyone else. Throughout her education she was thoroughly organised and depended only on herself for answers. She had a perfected morning routine from the age of ten which included making her own breakfast, her own lunch and her parents a cup of tea each, just the way they liked it. This ritual wasn’t even instigated by her parents because by the time she reached the age when they would have encouraged independence she already had so much so didn’t need their guidance.

When she started her first job, she never relied on her mother to wake her in the morning and in fact most of the time she was doing the wake-up rounds and getting her parents ready for the day.

She couldn’t understand when she went to university how some of her friends had a selection of meals made by their parents and stored in the freezer so all they had to do was microwave them each night. One of her friends’ mothers went as far as labelling each meal with which day of the week it needed to be consumed on, removing any need for thought there too. She couldn’t understand how people had got to the age of eighteen and didn’t know how to boil an egg. Nor did she see why they needed their mothers to ring them on the morning of an exam to check that they were awake in time. It was a different world and totally bizarre to the one she inhabited. Despite her advanced self-government skills, she was weak when it came to Darren.

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations Writing

Since when did our world get so busy?

Since when did our world get so busy? Since when did we struggle to find time? Time has always been the same length. So tell me, what happened to mine?

Since when did we start having to set reminders; to text back, to wake up, to go out to dinner, to put things away. How did life get too manic that when we finally manage to stop we don’t know what to say.

Since when did we wish for things to slow down so much that we get home and lock the doors just to escape for a while.

If someone asks us to help out in the evening, we struggle to find the energy to go that extra mile.

Since when did work engulf us and every other aspect just have to fit in? To the point where we have to book a holiday and force ourselves, force ourselves to give in.

Since technology, since globalization, since everything got faster and easier and more complicated.

All these wonderful developments in this wonderful world that are all going to end up simply hated.

It has forced us to speed up, it has forced us to cram everything into the shortest spaces of time. It has forced us to find ways out to a simpler life and a bit of peace of mind.

Sometimes, just sometimes, take a slo-mo moment from your day. Perhaps don’t even stop just slow down and notice all the good around you in so many ways.

Notice friends, notice nature, notice family, notice pets, notice sounds, notice how it feels to be alive.

It is almost too much, so often too much, but what most of us want is easy and for easy we must strive.