BOS and Jack

BOS stands for bum on seat and that's what I've got to do tomorrow. Got some catching up to do with nanowrimo but hey the weather doesn't look brilliant so tomorrow doesn't look a good day to avoid writing and run up Clunbury Hill. Not that I was going to anyway.

Friday had an interesting email. I entered a local poetry competition and didn't win, wasn't surprised at that but I had email saying that if I joined the group they would publish my poem in their magazine. Well I suppose that's one way of getting new members but this girl - well she doesn't fall for that so no my poem won't be published and I won't be joining their merry band. Hey I need more of an incentive that.

I had a very quiet weekend, didn't do any writing, in fact didn't do much of anything and certainly didn't go to a bonfire display. To be honest I've never keen on them but after being hit by a firework several years ago, I avoid them even more now. I know I'm a miserable cow but standing outside on a cold, damp, foggy November is not my idea of fun. Did watch the X factor though and thought - worst of two evils really.

I had a bad night last night and put on facebook that Arfur (pet name for arthritis) decided to party last night, unfortunately two people thought I'd had a rattling good time with a male friend called Arthur - oh well - I wish.

One thing I do want to tell you about. Jack Powell died today in Ludlow Hospital. Robz put on his facebook RIP Jack Powell you are a legend. Jack is a legend and quite a character. He was 92 and last years he was taking part in plowing competitions and spend most of his evenings propping up the bar in the Hundred House with his glass of whiskey by his side. I interviewed him once for the parish post and the tales he had to tell of farming in this area in the late 1920s and 30s were amazing. This valley is still very much a farming area but when you see the new tractors although farming is a hard job, in his day, it was even harder. But, throughout his tales his eyes twinkled and he said to me 'I've loved every day I've been here - winter and summer alike. Jack Powell will live on in the memory of so many people in the Clun Valley and I reiterate what Robz said Rest in Peace Jack Powell - you are a legend.

The land Jack worked all his life.

Right tomorrow is another day and as I said bum on seat and lots of scribbling, well you know what I mean so I've going to bid you a good night as I tick my to do box.

Blog - tick.

Research - what?

Yes that's right I delved into the world of research today, looking to see if I could find any information regarding the Starlings and Rothbury.

Alms cottages in Rothbury where I met Uncle Jimmy 

I did go there in about 1998 and met my Uncle Jimmy and Aunty Edna. Uncle Jimmy was my Nana's younger brother. At first they were a little reluctant to talk to me I think because they thought that Nana was the bad girl in the family, she wasn't but they had their own opinions. However, they did make me welcome but didn't talk about her, which I thought was very sad.

However, what I did discover was Uncle Jimmy was a prisoner of war and he was captured during the fall of Singapore (not that was before I arrived there and I had absolutely nothing to do with it). While he was a POW he was forced to work on the Burma Railway.

I knew this before hand but imagine my delight when a simple google search of Starling + Rothbury threw up his obituary in the Northumberland Gazette and thanks to that I know a little more of my Nana's little brother and I've found some new material, whether or not I use it is a different matter.

Oh and the weather tonight, absolutely dreadful. Rain and wind on a very dark night did the shopping, cooked dinner and then took a leaf out of Julie Phillips book - put my PJs on..

Nano, Nanu

Okay I'm back!

Lots of things have happened since I last posted but you might hear about that later in the meantime well nano-nanu.

Right I know you have to be a certain age to appreciate Mork and Mindy (1978-1982) yes my friends it was that long ago but Mork - the alien, played by the fantastic Robin Williams often had trouble understanding us earthlings. Well he's not being funny he's not the only one. No I'm not an alien although born in Singapore years ago that's exactly what I would have been called (I know that's answered all your questions about me) but often it never ceases to amaze me how my mind works (I know, you neither) but also where ideas come from.

Yes It's Nanowrimo month again and yes, me being me signed up for it sixteen hours after it started.

Why?

I'd thought about doing but I was struggling for something to write about and then I did what a lot of writers do and that's write about what you like to read about.

I love historical fiction. I love social history and at the moment I'm reading the story of Kathleen Dayus who was born in Birmingham in 1903, not far from where I used to live and her story, although very naively written  is about her life and hers and her family struggles just to survive. And then Halloween night, just as the witches were firing up their broomsticks my story came to me but the irony is, it's a story I've always wanted to write. It's loosely based on fact but the words are all total fiction. I've called Tina, my darling Christina and it's based on my Nana's life.

Christina Esther Starling was born on 8 Aug 1900 in Newcastle upon Tyne. She died peacefully on 23 October 1983 at home but all alone. She lived an eventful life and she played a large part in making me the person I am today. She was strong, she was a survivor and yes she did things her way.

So here I go, day two and 4293 words written about part of her life I know nothing about but you know when I write it, I can hear the Geordie accent in my head.

And for me - God it's fantastic to sit down and write something new.

Day three tomorrow - so nano, nanu and have fun.

Where were you?

I was at home after spending the morning at Albrighton Writers. I switched the television to watch some detective drama and then I switched channels because I thought it was a movie - one I didn't want to watch.

And then I realised....

No it wasn't a movie, it was happening, it was real, it was horrific and I remember sitting on the sofa and crying.

One disaster after another, the twin towers, the airplane that crashed in Pennsylvania, the Pentagon, it was like rapid gunfire, bang, bang, bang and suddenly thousands of lives were lost. And, despite living in a village in Shropshire, I was frightened, I was very frightened. I wanted my family home there and then because I didn't know where or when it was going to end.

But then I looked out of the window. My street was just the same, my normality was intact and I knew my family were safe. It was then I thanked God but....

On another street in a different country peoples' normality had changed forever. Someone was doing the same as me, looking out of the window and seeing the world change. Someone saw people plunging to their deaths,  someone saw flames that they knew incinerated flesh and blood, perhaps even their own flesh and blood, their partners, their family perhaps even the only person they had in the world who loved them.

Images were flashed across the world of terror, peoples' lives changing forever and I watched in the comfort of my own home and wept.

Ten years on, those images are as real today as they were they then. Ten years on, we must never forget. Ten years on, I'm at home and my family are safe but still I'll remember and yes I shall weep.

It's the simple things in life

I saw this on facebook and just had to post it.

The Writer's ABC Checklist: Avoid this writing scam

The Writer's ABC Checklist: Avoid this writing scam: Janice from Blackburn sent in a question that seems to be coming up more frequently recently – and it’s a worrying trend. She writes: I ...

Saturday's Workshop with Mike Smith

What a joy, not only the venue, the leader but also my lovely friend Di Perry was there too. Sadly though we were the only two but for us, sounding very selfish, it was fantastic. We had time to sit and talk, discuss different aspects of writing and also to share our own thoughts and opinions.

Mike Smith who writes under the name of Brindley Hallam Dennis led the workshop. Why he uses that name is quite a story but it's not place to tell it but bless him for sharing it as well as sharing with us his love not only of writing but of words too.

Picture Credit - Diane Perry

We started where everything starts at the beginning - looking at different openings which set the scene and introduced us to the characters. It also showed how even in the first paragraph the writer using words, descriptions can set the time the story is set in without always having to tell you. My favourite example given was from 'The Tailor of Gloucester' by Beatrix Potter.

In the time of swords and periwigs and full-skirted coats with flowered lappets - when genlemen wore ruffles and gold-lace waistcoats of paduasoy and taffeta - there lived a tailor in Gloucester.'


Isn't that beautiful? You can visualise the setting, the time and yet she only uses so very few words. Something definitely to aspire to as a writer.

We then looked at location. To be honest I don't often think of location when I'm writing because I don't find it so important, as a rule, unless the story is set in a specific place or I identify certain buildings etc, within the story. But what I did find interesting was how thinking of a location can focus your mind on a story itself. A different way of working and one I'll try.

Style was next on the list. We all know how we have an individual style and mine, at times can be more individual than most but as writers I think we all can write in different styles, depending on what we're writing about. The most important to me is the use of language, a modern, contemporary piece is written in a different language say to something set fifty years ago.

The exercises we did were fun. We had to write a beginning to a short story and it proved that Di and I have different styles but in both cases, it's amazing what comes out when you're asked just to sit and write. I love that challenge, write on the spot my brain works in a different way and often I surprise myself as to what comes out.

I had a really fantastic day and it was so lovely to be able to sit down and talk about writing to share with others, instead of being a lonely writer hiding under the stairs.

Maybe we'll meet up with Mike again when he comes back to Shropshire - I do hope so.