Tag: writers life

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations Writing

An introduction to my newsletter…

I’ve been writing this post since January, I’m ashamed to say it’s my first newsletter of the year and somehow it still hugely applies. I’ve been writing a newsletter monthly (sometimes more often) for a while now where I speak of my writing achievements, my goals, writing tips, book recommendations and, as you can see below, plenty of other stuff!

Most of the words you read my subscriber’s received in their inbox a few months ago in my non-regular but hoping to be much more frequent newsletter. If you enjoy and want more then you can sign up to get exclusive news and extra blog content here. Or by following the link at the bottom of the page, OR by heading to my sign up page on this website!

New Year, No Motivation…

I read recently on Dawn O’Porter’s Patreon how she too was struggling with writing motivation. She made a really good point in that: How can you write meaningful, authentic stuff when you aren’t living? Nothing is happening in life. Yes, we are more free and there have been less rules and restrictions lately but I know so many, myself included, who are still reluctant to venture out. Home feels safe. The virus is EVERYWHERE. Even when out it isn’t how it was. You’re always on edge. Feeling guilty. 

Merely by going for a walk the other day I sparked up some ideas and motivation to write. That was just a walk on my own by the sea. Imagine what a whole day or weekend out and about would do. 

I’m very lucky with my place of work as that alone provides so much life from all different parts of it. Reading also does this but has anyone else struggled to chill out and read?!

I have and it took me the whole in between bit between Christmas and New Year to get back into the practice of it. Recently I’ve hardly read at all. I really think we are all just COVID/ doom and gloom news consumed and burnt out. Here’s to 2022, third time lucky!! And look how that’s going already……

The moment…

My sister and I had a really good conversation the other day and, as this is my newsletter, I will relate it to writing. She is very different to me in that her choice of read is usually non-fiction over fiction. She’s currently reading a book about the moon. While I haven’t read the book, my understanding of the particular part my sister was explaining was living in a cyclical pattern and the benefits it has. Living like the moon. There are times in the month to be productive, to reflect, to get busy and to unwind.

I liken this to living in the moment. Of course, planning to a certain extent is useful, but getting bogged down with it is unproductive. Take writing for example. If I get het up on the fact that I’ve not written as much of my third book and haven’t nearly been as disciplined of late then I will just continue in a downward spiral. If instead I put that on the long finger and focus on what I have achieved and seize the day then that is far more helpful in achieving my goals. Live in the moment like today and take advantage of opportunities like being on a walk and ideas flowing, having the motivation to go back and write, and feeling good at the end of the day with a big fat glass of wine. YES.

Time

A line on a friend’s Facebook page struck me the other day: ‘The thing is, we always think we have time…’ Maybe we do, maybe we don’t but one thing that is certain is that nobody knows how long we’ve got or what is going to change suddenly. I refer to above… live in the moment. 

Be happy. See the good in the little things in life. Speak to the trees, smile at the birds, take photos of a particularly pretty sky. Don’t dwell but embrace. That is what is going to get me to my writing goals this year. I plan to produce a lot more varied content for you while also working on novel number three. Watch this space…

Has anyone else had really weird dreams?

You heard it here first, unless some scientist has already written a paper on it, there is going to be a whole lot that makes more sense as more studies go into how much COVID/ the news is taking up our brain time.

I’ve heard so many people not sleeping who have never had problems before. I’m sure it’s because our brains unknowingly are on override. For that reason I’m cutting myself a bit of slack for not putting much time aside to write.

Then there’s the content…

There is none.

While I always bang on about the fact that my novels are NOT autobiographical in ANY SENSE of the word, obviously to write about things, I have to experience or observe things. I have to live. That proves rather tricky when frequently I go weeks on end without leaving my village.

Shall I just write about my walk on the beach?

On that note, this walk has ignited my writing motivation. It took longer than usual as with everything since March 2020, but eventually ideas started to flow as I silently plodded along the beautiful Suffolk coastline. I came up with the notion for this post, for example, and actually wanted to write it. I was enthusiastic. My next newsletter has also been written in this sitting. In this one sitting?! That hasn’t happened for ages.

What I am trying to say is for all you writers out there, for artists in any form, for people working on things for years who have felt that lately the mojo has vanished – I hear you! You are not alone. Go easy on yourself. What we are living through is HUGE.

I think we are all a bit burnt out. Take care xoxo

A note…

Book 2, Don’t Tell Jack is out. Order your copies now on Amazon!

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 filling in the form at the bottom of any page of my website. There will be plenty of giveaways, news hot off the press and an honest insight into life as an author. Thank you x

linktr.ee/HJMWriting

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Special moments

New Moulton Stores

People always say how they hate January. You hear of the January blues, dark gloomy days, blue Monday – which can I add is a total myth made up by the travel companies to make money, it was on the news the other day! I always went along with this but recently I have noticed that actually I don’t hate January at all.

Yes, the dark nights aren’t ideal, but I think January can be a very positive month. The end of January is when you start to really notice the lighter evenings. Sunny, gorgeous (but cold), winter days are the best. Everything is calm post the Christmas madness. It really isn’t that bad.

At the shop this positivity has shone through in charity.

The Christmas Draw raised a fabulous £225 for the charity Suffolk Mind in memory of our dear friend and customer, Gerry. Cards made by another generous and talented customer raised £50.40 for Cancer Research. The Hedgehog Hospital total stands at £835 since Feb 2020. The other boxes fill too fast for us to keep up and the Improving Moulton tub gets heavier and heavier each day. From now until the summer, the money raised in this pot will be put towards funding our Platinum Jubilee celebrations so please, pop your change in if you can. It will all add up to create a memorable occasion for everyone.

Our days get brighter still with good comments from customers. One lady said she travels from Fordham to us, passing many Post Offices along the way, for a smile. ‘Don’t change’, she said, ‘it is so lovely coming here.’ Another customer dashed in while we were closing up one day recently and stopped to say: ‘It is always happy in here.’ We were serving ‘the best Lattes in Newmarket and surrounding areas’, according to another customer who gets coffee in a lot of places! Observations like these keep us strong and wanting to continue to provide the service, keep the place alive and do best by our loyal customers.       

It’s not ‘goodbye’ it’s ‘see you soon’

As hard as it is to write and as many tears we have all cried, yes, Mike and Kathy have moved on to begin real retirement a little while later than planned. From all at New Moulton Stores we cannot thank the two of them enough for sharing their expertise with the business as we grow and expand.

The business wouldn’t be what it is today without Mike and Kathy. The energy, hard work, commitment, ideas, warmth and so much more has led to the huge positive reputation that the business has held for years. Fortnum and Mason as one customer refers to us, a little London Deli, a special place. Everything that they have put into the business over the past sixteen years gleams through in the dedicated customers, the quality goods and service, the friendly atmosphere, and the popularity of the place. The fact that these two absolute diamonds stayed on to continue their loyalty to the shop is a bonus that Hugo, Martin and myself will be forever grateful for.

While we are sad to see them go, we fully back their decision in retiring full time and enjoying some well-earned time out.

So, as we come down from the sadness and shock of this news, we would like everyone to (virtually) raise a glass to this wonderful couple with thanks for everything that they have given to Moulton Shop and, for almost two years longer – New Moulton Stores.

They will always be treasured in the spirit of this business and, though they are moving on, they will be here with us too. Mike is a regular topic when people spot the photo above the Red Wine shelf where he is jumping to head the ball, alongside Pelé…

It wasn’t just the shop…

Not only that but Mike and Kathy gave everything, all of the time, to everyone. Whether it was a story around the ever-growing table in the Packhorse garden during summertime and a good laugh too, or it might have been cooking up dinner and delivering a few portions to those who were eating alone for whatever reason. If somebody needed company, they thought of them and opened their door. They thought of everyone. Often if we didn’t stock something in the shop Kathy would have just the thing at home or not even shop related, she would have something that would help, and she would gladly give it away.

On telling people the news that they would be leaving, so many came back with memories. All were filled with goodness. So many people told me how the Dillons’ had helped them out of a really dark time or been there just when they needed it. You all know how close I am to these two beautiful people and each time I’ve cried missing them and while seeing them go I thought: how lucky am I to have a bond so strong that makes this so hard? And I’m sure many others are with me on that.

Endless good deeds, brilliant fun, unique characters, the life and soul. They weren’t just running the village shop, but they were great friends to so many, friendships built so strong that a little bit of sea in between won’t change nothin’!

While we all miss them so much, they will be back to visit for sure. So many have panicked to me worrying that they never got chance to say goodbye. I say to them…we’ll be partying before you know it!

So thank you, Mike and Kathy, for everything (I will make sure they get a copy of this Moulton Matters) from the bottom of our hearts. Moulton won’t be the same without you both physically here, but you will always be a huge part of our village.

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

linktr.ee/HJMWriting

Categories
Adulthood Recommendations Writing

A Sunday Morning Podcast.

I love a Sunday morning. The relaxed vibe, not having to do anything or answer to anybody, staying in bed, a quiet world outside. The nature of my work often has me naturally awake at around 6am but knowing that I can then go back to sleep with no alarm set on a Sunday makes me smile and shut my eyes. Usually this is a time when I write and read, though the past few months have been rather manic to say the least so I’ve not experienced many Sunday mornings as easy as Lionel Richie sings about.

This week I am certainly back in the game. It is ten past eight in the morning. I am onto my second cup of tea in bed and I have a pastry that I am about ready to devour. It is my treat each Saturday when the pastries arrive from the baker, a nice sweet start to my Sunday – sod the diet! I was speaking to a man yesterday who was questioning why us women frequently try to “be good”. ‘Who are you doing it for?’ he asks his wife, ‘because I don’t care?’ He had a point, so I considered buying two pastries but stuck to one.

As much as I love Sunday mornings I also love a good podcast. Happy Place by Fearn Cotton is my go to but I am always open to new ones. Recently I watched an Imagine Documentary: Marian Keyes: My (Not so) Perfect Life. I LOVE Marian Keyes as an author and a person. I found the entire hour long programme fascinating and it taught me so much about Marian that I didn’t know. When I was telling a friend about it she said that Marian has a podcast out so I searched for that this morning.

Now You’re Asking With Marian Keyes and Tara Flynn

It’s brilliant! Each episode is around 30 minutes long and they are in Dear Deirdre style. Listeners write in with questions/ problems, and Marian and Tara try to solve them in their funny, light hearted but also very heartfelt and with a point manner. They cover everything from relationships to in-laws to a resting bitch face committee and how yawning is A-OK (as long as it isn’t to passive aggressively tell someone that they are boring). I’ve already listened to two episodes and I’m about to get cracking with a third.

Anyone who follows me will know how sporadic my writing is of late and I can’t tell you when my next podcast recommendation will pop up here but I will be sure to keep you posted.

H 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

linktr.ee/HJMWriting

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations

Help!

Lately I have asked for a lot of it. For things in life where I haven’t a clue and others are experts. For guidance from those more experienced, both young and old. For myself. From myself.

I have asked for help from friends and from strangers. From colleagues and customers at work when I’m trying to do too many things at once.

I’m certainly someone who struggles to accept help. I feel guilty for owing people an invaluable amount. Obviously I thank them but I feel forever I will owe them when you can’t put a price on the guidance they’ve given me.

It is a strange one isn’t it because the nature of my job is helping people. We help the elderly by delivering goods and a bit of conversation/ company along with it. We help the young by giving them jobs. We help those lost in reality by directing them and others lost within their soul by providing a sounding board in times of need.

Whenever I help someone the last thing I think is about how they are going to repay me. It is the last thing on my mind. Yet when someone helps me before they’ve even done so I’m thinking of what extravagant gift I can buy them which won’t come close to how grateful I am.

Claudia Winkleman addresses this in her book, Quite. She says ‘Here’s the thing with help. People want to do it. We get really stuck sometimes and just need to unload, to spill the dirt, to share the burden. Think about you. Do you get grumpy if someone asks for advice, if someone sends you their justgiving.com link, if a friend calls to have a little cry? Do you mind? Of course you don’t. You race round, you donate, you offer services. Help. The more you give the more you get.’

The fact of the matter is I’m so lucky to be surrounded by good people. If you surround yourself with good people then you become better and they are always willing to help.

That’s my thought for today – Happy Tuesday Everyone!

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 at the bottom of any page of my website. There will be plenty of giveaways, news hot off the press and an honest insight into life as an author. Thank you x

linktr.ee/HJMWriting

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations

Some things I’ve learnt in the pandemic…

This year is so strange, isn’t it? When it all began I was so sure it’d be over by now. Instead, I’m chilling with my dog, listening to it all over the news and not allowed into my bedroom because my sister is working from home. This virtual existence is odd. A new job and she’s hardly met any of her colleagues…so so odd.

Trying my best to cling tightly onto the good bits, here are some lessons I’ve learnt during the pandemic.

1. How to complain

And I’m getting so good at it. Back when things were normal I was the worlds worst at complaints. I would cower and crumble within seconds and then retract my complaint and allow companies to walk all over me.

Fast forward to the ‘new normal’ and I’m shit hot at complaining. Everyone just blames COVID-19 and while I sympathise to a certain extent, there HAS to be a line. Poor service is poor service and I’m rocking the complaints!

2. How lucky I am

This is always a good thing to remember but this pandemic has highlighted it hugely for me. My life has been busy, work takes over my days and my dreams at night, I’m tired, haven’t done much at all and don’t wish to for fear I’d have to self isolate for 2 weeks which just isn’t feasible. However walking home the other day from an hour at my friends drinking wine and watching the dogs play, i just reminded myself of how truly lucky I am. It was raining. Pouring. But still I felt so so lucky.

3. I’m a sucker for sales

Let’s face it, I’m not spending money on anything else. I was the first to blow £50 with ease at the pub on my way home from another expense. This has stopped. At the beginning I was frequently bulk buying wine. This is still the case but I’m finding myself receiving parcels in the post and then a light switch goes off in my head and I vaguely remember ordering another thing I don’t need online (blame the wine).

4. Healthy life style living in countryside

I have 100% gained COVID pounds and the scales are becoming less liked daily. I don’t get it. At Christmas each year I work stupid hours at a rate of knots, still drink gallons of alcohol and always, ALWAYS lose half a stone or more. This year is different.

In attempt to help the situation I’m doing little things in walking a longer way to work to get the steps in, always making sure I exercise more on my day off and trying to (mostly) eat better. While I’m still drinking too much wine which is something I’m not yet ready to sacrifice, I do feel healthier for these tiny efforts. Each time I walk I feel thankful for the health benefits of living in the countryside and I take in that extra clean country air.

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations Writing

Thoughts and feels

For the past two days I’ve been dragging myself along, frankly pissed off about how quickly the weekend went by. Did we even have one?!

I frequently long for a week off, a long weekend or even just a day to get away from this madness…and then I watched the news. BIG mistake.

It’s all such doom and gloom, so terrifying. Despite keeping going for the duration so far, yesterday it got to me a bit.

Yet today is a new one and this morning it’s those little things that have got me going. The sunshine, an hour longer in bed, a proper shower with time to pluck my eyebrows and take time with my make up – am I on holiday?!

I have work in just over an hour but wanted to share this snippet with you. It’s hard at the moment to feel good all the time. However, there is so much to feel good about! It’s always the littlest things that make you realise this. I think so anyway.

🙂 H x

All blog posts can be found at https://www.harrietmills.co.uk/ and to read my published work visit my portfolio.

Categories
fiction Stories Writing

My Publishing Journey: The Second Proof in lock down

It’s sunny, the birds are singing, The Beatles are playing Here Comes The Sun aloud into my garden via Alexa and it’s all very lovely. My dog has just brought me his brussel sprout toy to throw him and I’m wondering why I even look at other toys for him because sprout will always be best.

I’ve just had to dust my laptop to see the screen. No idea why this was the case as it’s been well used over the past week or so since I received my second proof via email.

Lock down life, as you’ll know if you’re a regular reader of mine, has been nothing short of frantic. Work has taken over and my writing has been pushed aside a little apart from the days where inspiration won’t allow me to escape writing it down.

This is why on receipt of the second proof of my manuscript I screamed a little inside with panic as to how I was ever going to complete a full read through.

My publishers have told me that this could well be the final proof before my book goes to print which is both alarming and extremely exciting. For this reason I must get it right.

So far so good in that the only edit I have made is a missing ‘he’ early on (much like my own life) and a slight structural change to the whole thing, but nothing major. Just an idea that came to me this time around and one which I think will improve the overall read. Quite good for almost half way in, I say!

I must admit that it was beginning to get to me the lack of time I was putting into my writing lately. All of my customers at work kept asking how it was going and I would repeat myself, losing a little optimism each time.

The excitment that came from the proof has turned these conversations around and I’m now discussing my passion for writing with those who didn’t know I was a writer and hypothetically planning my launch party with those who did (a bit premature I know).

My advice to anyone losing their mojo with any passion during these difficult times would be to stick at it. Make time for it. Talk about it. Don’t lose faith.

I am now highly enthusiastic and cannot wait to approve my proof to move onto the next stage of the publishing process.

I may even have a release date for you all soon! Watch this space…

Categories
fiction Stories Writing

a lock down novel: 7

(a snippet of)

Chapter 7, Mary

Days have merged into weeks when I have felt permanently exhausted, entirely drained. I have felt fidgety as if I want to get outside and do things but the thought of physically acting upon that drives me crazier still, so I have mostly remained here in my room.

The shaking sensation in my hands have been beyond my control and I can hardly hold the pen that I am writing with now which is nothing on what they have been some days.

My skin is itchy and I have a huge rash over my face and arms which has always been a sign of a breakdown. I have blotchy patches all over and scabs from where I have picked in a panic or worry until blood drips onto the off-white carpet. At least that’s the cleaner’s problem. It is a silly colour choice for a place of this sort anyway.

My hair is beginning to fall out too which is what happened last year when all of this started, well, sort of when it started.

My legs ache. My clothes are hanging off me because I haven’t eaten for what must be days if not a whole week now. I can’t remember. My memory is going too which is scary because a lot of the time that is all I have to hold on to. Memories. How precious they are.

I spent some time earlier (I think it was today) looking through old photos that they allowed me to have in here. Some were of Erin and Jack so young I could cup them in my hands, like tiny puppies not ready to leave their mum yet. Some were of them only a few months back which makes me so proud to look at. To look at how they have grown into such fantastic humans with little help from me. Though I have a bit of pride to take for it I guess, I wasn’t always completely absent.

The children have hardly wanted to visit. I think the few times that they have appeared has been out of forceful bribery by Eileen. Perhaps a promise of McDonalds on the way home or a trip to the cinema to see the latest release.

What a good aunt she still is. No matter what we throw at her she keeps a strong frame within herself to hold everything together and keep those children onto a path of success and independence for which I will always be grateful.

Categories
fiction Stories Writing

A LOCK DOWN NOVEL: 6

(a snippet of)

Chapter 6, Erin

Orange. The entire room had a glowing tint of orange and when we walked in, I hadn’t ever thought of orange as a particularly warming colour, but my mind was more focussed upon mum’s behaviour in a public setting so most of my attention was on that. Saying that though, the orange wasn’t a bright and garish tone of orange like that of my hideously decorated bedroom from the age of seven to ten years old, but rather that of a golden glow just like the sun makes on a summers evening. Golden hour. The incense sticks in each corner of the small and cosy space added to the calming feeling as did the instructor asking us politely to remove our outdoor footwear and place them in the closet before entering the room. It made it feel like home.

I had never met the lady who was going to take our class before, but Eileen assured me that she was lovely and a very good yoga teacher because she used to take Eileen’s classes when she first moved here until Eileen stopped attending due to stress. In fact, the whole idea to go was down to Eileen, I usually avoided taking mum out in public nowadays and preferred to restrict our time together to when we were alone. Outside of her room but still alone. I like it that way and I can relax properly to enjoy the time that we had instead of constantly being on edge due to not knowing when she would lash out or do something crazy.

With our socks, shoes and bags safely stored in the closet we entered the room and each chose a mat next to one another – I was in the middle. Beside my mum were another two people and that made up our class which pleased me. I was nervous about doing yoga for the first time, so I was happy with it being a class of five.

We all sat cross legged on our mats which each had a block and a sort of miniature bean bag placed at one end and a human sized elastic band type piece of equipment next to them which I was very curious and slightly worried about being the least flexible person ever. However, I had promised Eileen that I would keep an open mind about it all, so I just went with it, ready to participate in all that the instructor told us to do.

Mum wasn’t making eye contact with the yoga teacher which made me realise that she hadn’t made eye contact with neither me nor Eileen since we picked her up. That wasn’t so unusual to us, it may be to the other people in the class though. Instead she looked awkwardly at the floor and picked at her hand which was a gesture she did when nervous. It was a gesture I didn’t mind though as I had to accept that she would be nervous when in public for a while and she wasn’t acting too crazy so to me it was ok for her to be that way.

Categories
fiction Stories Writing

A LOCK DOWN NOVEL: 4

(a snippet of)

Chapter 4 Erin

Of course, I worried a little initially about the horror stories I had heard. The trolls, the glamorous accounts of false lives to make me feel awful about my own, the mass of uneducated opinions, the dangerously fast addiction and everything else in between, but I never thought much about it all. Besides being sixteen in 2019 meant that I had a firm grasp of what lay before me and I felt strong enough to cope with life on social media.

At the beginning I tried to remain strong anyway. It was more to prove a point to my mum but a fraction of it was fear of the inevitable. I could feel instantly the addiction looming. After two days of having access to the virtual social world, my phone was the first thing I went to pick up in the morning and the last thing that I put down at night. I spent hours scrolling and still do, but I don’t know why because after doing so I have never gained anything more or lost anything, my life remains exactly as it was.

On days when I feel bad about my own image, Instagram strengthens this sad emotion when I witness the accounts not of celebrities but of my own friends looking like celebrities. Their accounts fill my newsfeed with perfection and no flaws. The perfect brunch, the most exotic holiday venues, the prettiest new haircuts that look better than I looked that time when I had my hair and all my makeup done by a professional for a family wedding back in Ireland.

At the weekend I see friends and acquaintances out having fun. I always think to myself how they are doing the things that I should be doing when I am visiting Mummy or at work. Friends who have gone to places without even asking me so of course I feel totally left out and forgotten. Acquaintances who I don’t even care about doing things that make my Saturday night look so boring and suddenly I am deeply involved with care for the comparison.

On a more distant level, I see opinions all the time that I completely disagree with or that make me so angry that I can feel my face going red. I see people being horrible openly in their statuses or indirect Tweets and I laugh a little inside in agreement, but never would I say it to their face. I don’t wish to be involved with that kind of negative behavior, but it is too easy to get sucked in.