Category: Writing

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Observations Writing

Rejection wasn’t the end of it all. Rejection was only the start of success.

As a writer I have experienced many rejections so far. Some expected, some not necessarily but all taken in a positive light trying to keep focused and let the constructive mindset remain.

From not hearing back from newspapers and magazines, to being told that my work isn’t what they are looking for and most recently to my novel receiving only a few rejections so far – I can say I have experience in this well-known aspect of being a writer.

One common denominator each time I have received the dreaded email is that every single one has been motivating and good. Yes, they have rejected my work but each industry professional that I have encountered has been extremely encouraging in doing so.

The industry is subjective. Somebody elsewhere may love your work in a way that is essential for publication. Others may feel differently. We wish you every success. Keep going. Don’t give up. These are just a few of the supportive statements that I have received.

Each time I feel down about it all for a split second, forgetting how much I love what I do which stands above everything else, I read about other authors who were once in my boat.

J.K.Rowling is the obvious example, receiving 12 rejections for her first pitch for the Harry Potter series. Now the only billionaire to lose status as a billionaire due to donating so much money (that she had a surplus supply of) to charity.

Agatha Christie endured five years of continual rejection before landing a book deal. Her book sales now in excess of $2 billion (only William Shakespeare sold more).

Dr Seuss was told that his work was too different to warrant a place on the market. His work has now had 300 millions sales and he remains the 9th best-selling fiction author of all time.

Obviously, each individual is/was extremely talented which is a huge influence on their success. Obviously, they worked hard to get to the level that they reached. But all I am saying is that each hugely successful career began with rejection. Rejection wasn’t the end of it all. Rejection was only the start of success.

Categories
Observations Writing

Random taste

Both my book taste and music taste are categorically random.

When friends ask me what sort of music I like it could be anything from Elvis in the 60s to something right up to date.

Well, turns out, the same goes with books. Here’s an example of things I have had on the go at the same time. In the same playlist or the book pile beside my bed #tbr, these lists just show how odd my taste can be!

Reading material:

  • Reasons to Stay Aline – Matt Haig
  • Only Child – Rhiannon Navin
  • The Life Changing Magic of Not Giving a Fuck – Sarah Knight
  • Swing Time – Zadie Smith
  • The Oxford English Dictionary – Collins
  • Writing Magazine
  • What Alice Forgot – Lianne Moriarty
  • Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine – Gail Honeyman
  • The Silent Sister – Diane Chamberlain
  • Have You Eaten Grandma – Gyles Brandreth

Music:

  • Modern Love – David Bowie
  • Fine Life – Oliver, the musical
  • Birds – Kate Nash
  • Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want – The Smiths
  • Sweet But Psycho – Ava Max
  • River (feat. Ed Sheeran) – Eminem
  • On The Other Hand – Randy Travis
  • I’m Alive – Celine Dion
  • Sour Candy – Melt
  • Someone You Loved – Lewis Capaldi
  • I Could Get Used To This – Becky Hill

Ok, so I admit my music taste tops the random leader board but my gosh writing it down makes me cringe a little… or not! I’m embracing my peculiar tastes. All good stuff, you should check it out!

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Writing

The Write Life is usually fine

There’s a hashtag on Instagram called #writelife and I am so confident in believing that life as a writer is the right life for me. It is the life that I often choose and one that I frequently write about.

In my spare time I decide to write, when I’m not writing I think about writing lots and ideas come rushing to me from all sorts of random sources of life. It’s a busy, creative and happy place in which I give a lot of my life to but sometimes, very occasionally, but something that has to be noted, the writing world isn’t always so rosy.

Writing is a solitary venture. This is one reason why I love it so much because all day I spend talking to people. Small talk, informative discussions, friendly chit chat, advice givings – talking. It’s all good but it does get tiring so in my breaks and on some of my days off I love to lose myself in my writing or nose dive into a book and lose myself there.

However, sometimes this has a negative effect. I read what I’ve written and feel it’s useless but have nobody there to tell me that it’s not or where I can improve it. I feel sad and write about it but the pages aren’t telling me that everything is going to be ok or what I can do to change things. I question the path I am taking but it’s all inside my head and I can create many scenarios – trust me. At times like these, which happen fairly frequently, nobody is with me to tell me that I’m making good choices, that it’s a risky but good move, that it could all lead to something amazing, when all I am thinking is that it is all for nothing and could all go wrong.

Most of the time I am able to believe this myself and repeat these positive sentences inside my head which keeps me going, but sometimes it all gets too much being on my own inside my writing bubble.

Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love what I do and right now, for an example, I am happily sitting alone with a cup of tea and my laptop in total bliss which is often the case. I also am lucky enough to have a strong support network surrounding me who mostly deliver motivational comments and pride for what I am choosing to do.

So it’s great. The #writelife is great. It’s a new world with never ending limits of creating people and places and stories. Most of the time its the happiest. I can create whatever I want and I feel so free in doing so. However, sometimes, just SOMETIMES, the #writelife is not the best place for me.

(How’s that for contradictory?!) The End.

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Writing

These were all their words, he was all mine

Katie Melua’s cover of What a Wonderful World came out strongly from the speakers because James always saw the goodness in everything and everyone. I was overtaken by past memories that left out the horror of the final years. I was remembering the happy times when our family was one and the times before we had a family at all when we loved every aspect that life threw our way. I could hear Sally crying next to Jack who didn’t know how to react in the situation he was in. His first funeral and it was for his dad. How cruel life was sometimes.

Readings came from the reverend who reeled off all of our blurbs put together mixed in with religious connotations of what he felt that death was to him. Abide with Me was the chosen hymn but my voice box failed me due to my weakness and my tears, so I enjoyed the sound of the organ playing a favourite of mine. The committal was spoken, and the curtains closed giving us all closure to a long-suffering horrendous incident. The brain is such a powerful organ. At least our James suffers no more.

As we exited the building for the part of a funeral that any family member dreads, I took Erin and Jack by the hands to the bouquet that some minutes before lay rested where their father was.

‘Take a daisy each,’ I urged to them, both looking fearful at ruining a beautiful display of flowers. ‘Go on, you’re allowed to.’ They each took their favourite coloured bud and cautiously held it in their small hands. ‘Now whenever you’re missing Daddy, press on this for comfort. He is always going to be with you.’ Erin smiled and Jack remained looking confused as we edged our way to stand and be sent many condolences from everybody who loved James.

A true character. A lovely soul. Kind and thoughtful, always giving his everything. Wonderful. Brilliant. Charming. These were all their words, he was all mine.

Categories
Observations Seasonal Writing

Appreciating England

There’s a place that I go to and it’s on the coast. Whenever we drive there along the winding roads and through the leafy trees of summer with banks scattered in wild flowers, I am happy. Some flowers are planted for purpose, looking content where they are, some just sprouting as wild as the weeds – I appreciate England.

It’s on the Suffolk coast where I go and the drive continues on roads that are pathways between the never-ending green hills, something that I would miss if ever I move to a city. It is why I appreciate England.

Somebody said to me once “as soon as you reach Dennington the world and everything around you changes”. Look it up on a map, go there. It does. The people get fewer but friendlier because everyone is so relaxed by the fresh sea air that is never very far away. It is why I appreciate England.

That is a reason why we are so very lucky to be living on an island that is surrounded by the sea, never is it far away (the sea that is). Unlike in parts of America, Australia, Europe and Africa, little old England offers a seaside escape wherever you’re anchored. It is why I appreciate England.

The countryside, though in my opinion is the best, is not the only wonderful aspect. The cities are also exciting and have their own reasons to be celebrated. We have old towns like York, huge towns like Manchester and London, pretty towns like Bury St Edmunds and Ely – and these are only ones that I personally love – this is why I appreciate England.

The simple things like glorious sunny days which we look out for more because they don’t happen very often when the sky is deep blue and the sunshine warms the skin. It is why I appreciate England.

The birdsong starting in the early hours of the morning and continuing when rush hour begins for people who are lucky enough to walk to work listening to it. It is why I appreciate England.

The old cars driving along country roads on sunny Sunday’s when everyone is enjoying a day off. It is why I appreciate England.

The sheep filling the fields, and cows and horses and lots more animals. It is why I appreciate England.

The smell of cut grass when the temperature exceeds fifteen degrees Celsius. It is why I appreciate England.

Warm cups of tea and shortbread biscuits. It is why I appreciate England.

Old churches, old ruins, old buildings, just oldness. It is why I appreciate England.

The traditions, the royals, the character traits of moaning and queuing. It is why I appreciate England.

ROAST DINNERS AND LOTS OF GRAVY. It is why I appreciate England.

So there we go, it isn’t all bad and these are only a few of the reasons. It is why I appreciate England.

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Writing

Chapter 1, Dublin 2018

I had forgotten how magical this place had once made me feel until now, experiencing the magic all over again. I didn’t for one minute think that this would be the case, but I suddenly feel in control and at home. It’s almost as if I’ve forgotten my motive for the trip altogether and for a moment which feels longer than I imagine it is, I am enjoying this pleasant sensation and am at peace.

I have returned at a crucial time which becomes clearer to me as I see the abortion campaigns plastering the streets. I would have thought thirty years ago that this would have passed by 2018 and that the women of Ireland would have the freedom to choose, but instead the ‘No’ campaigners are not giving up their fight, attacking women across Ireland into feeling guilty for having a choice.

‘At 22 weeks I have fingernails, don’t repel me,’ reads one sign from the angry campaigners, desperately clinging onto the past and not accepting the different circumstances that women find themselves in. ‘A woman you love might need your yes,’ reads a board from the opposing side. I’m with the latter, giving women a choice and stopping hundreds who flee to England to safely abort a child that may not survive or abandon the memory of horrific and unwanted intercourse. There are individual stories and this needs to be addressed, but then that is only my opinion after all.

I ponder the debate for a while in blissful silence which is a miracle considering the company I am in. Erin has just bought new headphones so whilst ignoring the hardworking driver’s commentary, she’s listening to her Spotify playlist entitled ‘Musicals’, while Jack innocently attempts to grasp every word that the cheerful and witty commentator utters, adult jokes going straight over his head which I am thankful for.

I can’t believe how much this place has changed and how much my life has changed since I was here. Mammy instantly returns to my memory and though she doesn’t cross it much these days, it is comforting to feel. I don’t really know why I have returned anymore. At least in this current moment I haven’t a clue.

A tear drops from the corner of my eye and this as well as the rare Dublin sunshine forces me to put my sunglasses on. It’s a tear of happiness, of sheer contentment which I haven’t felt much at all for as long as I can remember. This place represents the start of everything for me and though I’m not as good as Jack and I’m ignoring every word that the driver is saying due to my mind wandering elsewhere, I think to myself how different things could have been.

‘Stop number twenty-two,’ the driver calls out. ‘The Guinness Storehouse.’ I’ve never been and right now I could demolish a pint of the black stuff like Daddy would if he were here with us but with two young children, I think I’ll pass. Most couples leave the top deck and prepare to stand in the long queue having missed the memo about pre-booking to avoid it. I look up to the top and dream about sitting alone in the Gravity bar staring out mindlessly onto the Wicklow Mountains in the distance. Then I’m suddenly back in reality when Jack claims he’s desperate for a wee. I guess we’ll be getting off at stop number twenty-three then.

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Writing

The Diary of my novel writing process: A First Attempt (section 2)

Keeping diary during my novel writing process was initially an idea that I thought would be interesting to read later down the line but after producing what follows I realise it was a necessity.

Here is my novel writing diary four months in until the end…

30/09/2018 12:23pm

My ‘Novel Ideas’ document which contains my chapter plan is now half complete, the chapters highlighted in green. I have always found so much satisfaction in ticking off lists and figured that in the digital world highlighting brings the same sense of achievement. The fact that the green is covering more than half pleases me no end and gives me the motivation to get to that place – the end.

Once I have a full first draft of my manuscript I am not only going to feel relieved and accomplished having completed an entire novel, I’ll be extremely proud to have stuck it out. Some chapters are much harder to write than others there’s no doubt. One’s with research or a special event from a slightly different culture like the Irish wedding are ones that I’m not overly comfortable with and won’t be until enough people who know have read it.

Writing about an Irish girl and Irish rituals, I have made sure that a close Irish Catholic friend of mine has been the first to read large chunks of my manuscript at a time. I am so grateful for her throughout this process as she is one who would tell me straight firstly about what she thinks of the idea and how it reads but also if I made mistakes within the Irishness.

I am grateful for every reader who willingly reads my work. All the feedback is great and I realise that most are biased being friends and family but it’s still feedback nonetheless.

48,602 words down, around 27,000 to go and hopefully a lifetime of success, launch parties and happiness. Perhaps I’m getting a little ahead of myself. We’ll see…

Sunday 14th October 2018

Thinking today about writing and its solitary ways. It may be the dreary weather outdoors or the three tequila shots that I consumed last night but I’m struggling today. The content I am writing is pretty sad too but I can usually handle this and move myself away from the story. Today, however, I’m finding it hard. The juggling of different projects. The not yet getting anywhere. The fact that time is ticking and I’m working relentlessly to make this work and the thought that it could all be for nothing and I’d be back to square one.

I’m never usually this down about it but today I’m feeling a splurge of the difficulties that, I am sure, all writers face. You sit at your desk creating these extra worlds and people to worry about. You write things that perhaps are for a commission or a course and don’t particularly interest you but it has to be done.

In fact, as is always the case, writing this down has lifted the heavy weight off of my shoulders and I am sat with a fresh coffee ready to keep on going, because after all that is what you have to do, keep going until you get somewhere.

29/11/2018

Final chapter. Flapjack on desk for energy. Coffee for more energy. Window open to let final motivation in. George’s birthday so feeling good. Up early, presents, write. Write. Write. Write.

27/01/2019

The feedback. Feeling thrilled (and shocked) still to have finished my first novel and thoroughly grateful already for the support from friends and family. I have handed it out in hard copy and PDF form to a number of people but with Christmas and New Year it has taken a while to receive feedback.

It’s always good when people support you in something that you love and that is exactly what is happening so far. My mum is the first to have finished and discussing my novel, my characters and my plot line over our bangers and mash this evening has been somewhat surreal. I even read aloud the final two chapters to my sister who liked what she heard and isn’t a reader herself. I must admit I was rather proud of what I had written, words that I had forgotten about entirely. Exciting times ahead, I hope, exciting times indeed.

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Writing

Inside a mind

What time is it? Only 5:30 AM. Why am I up so early? I must go back to sleep but if I think too hard about it then I never will. What have I got to do today anyway? How long until I have to get ready for work?

It’s what goes on inside my mind

Ooh I’ve got an itch on my neck, I hope it doesn’t turn into a rash. Maybe I’m allergic to my necklace. I must make a cup of tea, that’ll get me going. Yes, that’s right. I’m going to be going strong today, stronger and better than ever before

It’s what occurs in my little brain

I’m glad I chose to walk to work today…oh gosh I didn’t finish my cup of tea, what a waste, oh well…it gives me time to enjoy music, enjoy the fresh air and hopefully lose a bit of weight for weigh day tomorrow…eeek

It’s what goes on inside my mind

I just smiled at that man a bit too enthusiastically as we passed each other in the street but then it may brighten his day and keep him smiling too. I musn’t be embarrassed for passing happiness on, oops I forgot to smile at someone I know. I hope they don’t think I’m rude

It happens to us all

He’s in a good mood today, they’re not at all, I guess some people like mornings and some don’t… ooh what’s this tune on the radio I like it, but what has happened to the radio it’s all jittery I can’t be having that

No matter how our mind goes on

Right I’ve got to do this, this and this, but which shall I do first? I’ll serve this lady and then consider what order to get things done….OH NO! THE BACON!

We always leave room to forget

I wonder how my Grandad is getting on since moving back home, I must sort out paying a visit to him soon.

But we never forget the important things

I’ll just sort through this pile to clear my head before starting to write. Boots vouchers, receipts, rubbish – MY CAR TAX! Whoops

Unless it has anything to do with finance

That bottle of Prosecco is really very cool, gold! The candle suits it. Is it too early for a drink? Yes stop being silly, you’ve got work to do

And no matter how much the mind takes us away

Focus, focus, focus, there’s plenty of time to procrastinate but now isn’t it. Drink can come tomorrow after your lovely relaxing yoga class. Peppermint tea is yum and I need to dust my desk

We always return to reality

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Writing

The Diary of my novel writing process: A First Attempt (section 1)

This is something that I wasn’t sure I would publish before sending my novel out to those who will judge it from knowledgeable expertise, but reading it again I think it is quite interesting and perhaps useful to those in similar positions to me.

Here is a glimpse into my diary that I wrote during the process of completing my first ever manuscript. I’m almost ready to take this piece of work further into the big wide world but here is an insight into how it all began!

(There are many more entries that I will let you see soon!)

02/09/2018 12:20pm

For quite some time now I have known that I want to write. I’d love to make a living out of it too one day but for now I am finding my niche and doing as much as I possibly can of what I love the most – writing.

Earlier this year I took the plunge and sent off an idea to over one hundred agents in the UK. The basis was an extension from my dissertation that I had completed last year at university so after speaking to my tutor who told me to go for it, I did just that. The responses that I have so far received have been more encouraging than I had ever expected, and I even have a strong interest from one agent who sees potential so watch this space. . .

While waiting for responses though, which came flooding back thick and fast but over a matter of months, I thought a good use of my time would be to try to write a complete manuscript of a first novel. By this time, I had decided I wanted to be a published author having never been able to put a title to what I would like to do. While sat on an open top bus in Dublin I came up with the opening of my book.

Now about half way through and beginning chapter fourteen tomorrow, I thought I would start to log my experience of the process. Overall, I am loving every minute and very happy with the progress I am making week on week. However, honesty is the best policy and I would be kidding myself if I didn’t address the challenges that I sometimes face.

I think the style that I have chosen to write in has helped masses because each chapter is a different stage of my protagonist’s life so each time I finish a chapter, it’s as if I have a fresh start on the next one which definitely keeps my motivation levels up. I also have given myself a particular wordcount each time which acts as a finishing line and on days when the inspiration is non-existent, I fight through to get to the 3,000 word mark by the end of each week.

As well as lack of motivation some days and looking at the thing as a whole being quite daunting, I occasionally get into the rut of ‘this might all not be worth it.’ I could write an 80,000 novel and send it off to hundreds of agents for them all to come back with a big fat NO. Then again, it only takes one for my dream to be made a reality. Perspective.

I’d rather look at the challenges of writing such a mammoth piece of work as a journey that I am happy to complete. A journey that is going to improve my writing abilities. A journey which at the end will bring me pride no matter what the outcome.

With the biggest challenge I face being writers block which is definitely real, the majority of my time spent writing is therapeutic. An escape from this world into one that is entirely made up and created by moi.

Categories
Observations Writing

Sods Law

Whenever you’re in a rush to get anywhere you can guarantee that you’ll not be able to find your keys. Of course you won’t. Why would they be in the place that you have kept them in for the duration of your life.

You’ll get in your car and the fuel gauge will be almost at empty. Of course, who needs fuel anyway? It will probably be just enough to get you there.

The road you travel down will be full of tractors moving slowly along, no sign of speed. Of course, of course. That’s sods law.

Whenever you plan a nice day out, get all the friends together on a particular date and the activity that you decide to do is outside, it will be raining. Of course it will, the weather knew exactly what you’d planned to do.

When you wake up early to get ready for the day, you’ll find the outfit you’d got your heart set on wearing is in the wash, the shoes aren’t appropriate for the conditions outside of your window and you need to wash your hair. Of course, sods law doesn’t consider time management.

Whenever somebody drops by your house unnanounced will be the one time when you’ve left dirty dishes on the coffee table, haven’t wiped the kitchen sides and decided to leave the laundry until that evening. Of course it is, it’s sods law.

Whenever you get a day off, the chance to a luxurious lie in. When you stay in bed feeling ever so more smug knowing that you’d usually be at work. This will be the one day when you wake up happily at 6am and can’t get back to sleep. It’s all thanks to sods law.

Whenever you decide to quickly do something on your laptop adding another completed task to your ever-lengthening list, your computer will crash, low battery – sods law.

Whenever you’re waiting in for a delivery – you know the type, anytime between 8am and 6pm – the doorbell will ring at 5:59pm. Or the five minutes where you decide to nip to the shops will be the five minutes when the courier shows up. Why wouldn’t it be? That’s sods law.

Whenever you go to book a hotel with booking.com and they ask if you have an offer. For example, £10 off when you recommend a friend. You click ‘no’. The next day an offer will arrive in the post as if it is laughing at you just days after you’ve booked it, this is exactly what has just happened to me and it is what has inspired this post. Sods blooming law.

How many times do we find ourselves saying the words in a single day. Sods law knows. Whatever can go wrong will go wrong. It’s just life, it’s just sods law.