Categories
Observations Writing

Easy Like A Sunday Morning: a writer’s take

Sundays. What a brilliant day. Aren’t they just the best day of the week?

No work (for most people), a quiet space (in most places) and an all round chilled vibe.

As an aspiring writer, I struggle through the week to squeeze everything into my tight schedule. Of course, I have a full time job on top of all the writing that I do because what writer starting out doesn’t? But also I find that I take on so many different projects and this can be both good and bad.

For my brain and writing capabilities it is good to test out different styles and writing for different purposes. I gain experience in writing fiction, press releases, blog posts, academic essays and the list goes on which is great.

On the other hand, it can all get too much and occasionally I find myself unable to work to the best of my ability because I am trying to cram so much into the little time that I have in between shifts.

This is why I LOVE Sundays.

Not only is it an opportunity to have a BREAK and time out away from my laptop (just like I am NOT doing now on a sunny Sunday morning writing this post), but it also gives me time to concentrate, get into the writing zone and dedicate quality time to some of the projects that pass by so fleetingly throughout the week.

Whenever I look back at the work that I have done (whenever I get a chance to do so) the best quality are the pieces I have written on days where I have had more time and haven’t been constantly checking the clock to see how long I have left. Days where I have chosen to sit down and write at the time I choose and for however long it takes are the days where I produce the best stuff.

And there’s no better time to produce the good work than on a Sunday. The air feels clear, the diary is empty and the vibes are strong.

It’s ‘easy like a Sunday morning.’

Categories
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!

Categories
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.

Categories
Adulthood Observations

30 things I appreciate as I become more adult

Whether it is down to working more than full time for over a year now, working with the general public or venturing deeper and deeper into the wonderful world of adulthood, I have noticed that I appreciate certain things a lot more nowadays than I have done in the past. Here are thirty of them…

  1. Time to myself
  2. Time with loved ones
  3. Time
  4. Not talking
  5. Books
  6. Eating meals with no interruption
  7. Logical people
  8. Lay ins
  9. Writing
  10. Being outside
  11. Dog walks
  12. The sea
  13. Quiet
  14. Wine
  15. Good/ honest/ true people
  16. Music
  17. Days off and plan free weekends!
  18. Cups of tea
  19. Nature
  20. Advice
  21. My calendar and diary
  22. The cinema/ theatre (shutting off)
  23. Early morning birdsong
  24. Gin & Tonic
  25. Photos & Videos (memories)
  26. Long drives
  27. 5 positives a day
  28. The changing seasons
  29. Time out
  30. Candles

Categories
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
Adulthood

Go compare, we compare

I found myself the other day reading a friends notebook. It is from thirty years ago when she was the age I am now and I was reading it on a Friday night. I was shattered from the week and had consumed enough wine to sink a large ship, but decided against the pub. There I was thirty years on and thinking “I should be out. I should be doing what she was doing in 1986. I shouldn’t be sitting in bed about to get stuck into another chapter of my book. What is wrong with me?”

Why?

I’m the worst for comparing myself to others and thinking that I should be doing this or shouldn’t be doing that, but the above scenario inspired this blog post because my thought process was ridiculous! Nobody is telling me that I should be out on a Friday night – well, they do if I stay in and tell me I should stay in if I go out – but for some reason I felt a wave of comparison wash over me.

Social media is a huge problem on this front because I could be having a lazy weekend after a hectic week at work and a long string of busy weekends when I see on my friends’ insta-stories that they’re out at some festival or a party on a boat. At that point the FOMO kicks in, bad.

Yet I never get sad when someone is engaged or upset when I hear another friend has landed themselves a cracking new job in London, so I’m certainly not saying that social media is totally to blame. No, in these circumstances I’m very happy for them being a positive take on the new virtual platform that takes up so much of our lives. It does remind me though of what I’m not doing and for a minute – occasionally longer – makes me question the route I am choosing to take so again I start to compare.

The mind is a crazy thing!

I think the message I am taking away from my thoughts is to care less (easier said than done). To care so much about others and be happy for them in everything that they do but to care less in comparison to myself.

Yes, I am 24. I love to party, I often get too drunk and fall over, I love wine, I adore day drinking in the sun and sometimes I kiss multiple guys at once or flirt with them purely to get a drink.

Madness!

However, I also love sleep, get tired, enjoy time to myself, nights in, quiet days, radio 4, reading, long drives, country music.

Basically I am human and don’t necessarily follow the crowd of my peers. Whether it is right for my age or wrong, it is what I enjoy so I am going to keep on doing it.

Most people don’t judge and mostly it is all inside my head. It’s either that or they judge to a hilarious level and one week say I should be doing one thing then the next I should be doing the total opposite.

At the end of the day, and in the words of an (very) old singer who’s song I like – it’s MY LIFE – go ahead with your own life and leave me alone!

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.

Categories
Adulthood

14 small snippets of life advice from a rookie…

never start a day without a caffeinated beverage

toe nails look better painted

avoid replying to a text or beginning a new text conversation after getting into bed at night or getting out of it in the morning, particularly if it’s risky, your head won’t be in the right place

always have a glass of water by your bed (especially if you’ve been drinking alcohol)

in-date milk is a staple to your fridge contents and an ingredient to tea, and tea is life

always make time to read, listen to music and learn new things from interesting people

stop, breathe and think before immediately turning to anger

hold onto memories – take lots of pictures, keep a diary or pin them down somehow

notice the little things all around you; the birdsong, the colours, the smell of the air

if it is sunny, GET OUTSIDE

sometimes (a lot of the time) it’s better to say absolutely nothing

listen to those with more experience than yourself

always have a supply of chocolate/ wine

whatever you decide to do, make sure it makes you happy

Categories
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.