Weird

During November I took part in the Nanowrimo Challenge (and completed it) to write 50,000 words of a novel. However, I did sort of cheat because I didn't have a plot because I already knew the outline and the story is a fictionalised version and my interpretation of my Nana's life.

I did post about her but I had objections from members of the family so I removed the post but that's immaterial now, although, those who know me will understand I wasn't happy about it.

Anyway in telling this story I introduced characters I had no idea about but to me, they fitted. But the weird thing is, I was talking to a family member who I haven't spoken to since I was a child and one of the characters I introduced actually almost fitted the sort person she'd heard about who played an important part in my Nana's life.

Now I'm not a psychic in any way, my door jamb has more sensitivity than me but it got me thinking and I feel it also confirmed this story has to be told. My Nana lived a life. She was an amazingly strong and courageous woman, yet in her life time she was scorned for what she did and how she lived. If she was a young woman today society wouldn't think twice about how she lived or what she did.

Now, maybe through my story, my lovely Nana will finally be accepted. I hope so.

Lydbury North Writers

Wow what a fantastic evening. Seven of us gathered in a room at the back of the Powis Arms in Lydbury North and shared writing, did on the spot writing and all to the sounds of a jam session going on in the bar.

I'm really looking forward to next month's meeting but in the meantime in two weeks time, there is another jam session taking place and I've got the loan of a guitar. I haven't played in years but I'm determined to give it my best shot.

There is still a lot of bad things going on in my life but I think to rise above it, I need to start living a life again and doing things just for me. Tonight is just a start.

Oh and the writing - well....

On the spot writing tonight one title was vision.

Here goes

‘I spy with my little eye.’

The voice said from the back of the car

‘Are we nearly there yet Mum?’

‘No, we’ve not got far.’

‘I said I spy with my little eye’

‘Shut your gob us Chris.’

‘Don’t speak to me like that Dan.’

‘Mum, Rob wants a piss.’

‘Chris is taking up too much room

There’s hardly any room for me.’

‘Will you lot stop the fighting

‘Cos I need a large G and T.’

These memories are now a thing of the past

Because now I have it sort

If they don’t drive or ride a bike

I make the buggers walk.

Kindlised my computer

Dangerous I know but what a relief. Now I can read reference books, how to books etc, without having to move from my computer. I can type exercises out without worrying about balancing book and machine or trying to read my handwriting as it gets progressively worse.

Freedom!!!!!!

One happy bunny

Nana's Nano

I have written 18036 words in three days.

Why?

The old adage write about what you know and what you don't - make up.

I would do a longer post but the paws are burning, the eyes are stinging and my bed it's a calling.

One very tired but extremely chuffed writer signing off.

Night night. x

Here's a thought

Tracy Emin displayed an unmade bed complete with dirty underwear, fag butts, stained sheets and booze bottles not to mention dirty knickers the idea being to display her insecurities and imperfections en par with the rest of the world.

This was accepted by the critics.

So if I decide (bearing in mind I've signed up to nanowrimo at have said I'll write 50,000 words during November) to write the word f**k 49,000 times and punctuate it with things like 'the car won't start, I stood in dog s**t, I split my coffee all over the new cleaned rug and ended it with my ex sexually abused my son, beat me up put in me in hospital and made my kids sit in freezing cold room' would that also be considered a literary work of art.

Or would people prefer to read a story?

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..