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Showing posts from June, 2009

Inspiration and Persistence

Or, how late it is, how late . With hindsight it sounds a bit pretentious to talk about a new ‘writing project’ when what I mean is that I’ve started a new novel. Sorry about that. It’s not even that new since I had the idea for it two years ago. One of the downsides of writing a regular blog is that it’s all there; the hopes, the dreams, the plans - all laid out and ready to come back to bite you, especially when you realise how much time has gone by. What I hadn’t foreseen, when I originally said I’d started some new work, was that I would then do two rewrites of ‘Fighting the Tide’, turning it from a ‘light lunch’ to the ‘substantial meal’ an agent suggested, and then trimming 10,000 words out of it at the suggestion of an editor. Whilst there’s a danger in chopping and changing, the suggestions I was advised to make made sense and I’m happy with the version that’s out there. It’s now a question of waiting. I’ve also completed the first year of a Diploma in Creative

Back Home

This is what I did last week: Monday a.m. Run off steam before packing for trip to South. Leave home. Stop at Sarn Park retail outlet to visit M&S. Replenish underwear after knicker cull and world shortage of my bra size in west Wales. A really snazzy pair of yellow peep-toed wedges call out to me and say they want to go home with me. How can I resist? p.m. Arrive at Worthing, Mil and Dil’s. Eat Chinese takeaway. Sleep fitfully in the Marshmallow Bed which flings me in the air every time Tom turns over. Tuesday a.m. Mil & Dil, in their new car (‘nuff said), follow us to deepest Surrey and Best Optometrist In The World aka my dear friend, Jill, as Mil is in need of a second opinion. Have lunch with BOITW. Bid farewell to Mil and Dil. Proceed to Ma’s. Inspect Ma for signs of wear and tear. p.m. Over dinner, (Ma’s homemade steak pie) catch up with Kid Sister, Bil, and two nieces. Wednesday a.m. & p.m. Burst with prideiosity all day (see prev

Going for Gold

Crack of doom. Tom and I meet Rose and Si at the station for our trek up to St James’s Palace where Rose is due to receive her Gold Duke of Edinburgh’s Award. To add a little challenge to the day there is a tube strike, but Tom, bless him, has brought a rucksack to carry our ‘car to bar’ shoes. The socks and trainers don’t do much for my outfit, but at least I can get round London without breaking a heel. Arrive Victoria in record time . Typical. It’s pouring down with rain. Double typical. Si shields Rose with a golfing umbrella and we hoof it to Maccy D’s for a McWee and some essential nutrients like coffee, doughnuts and McMuffins. Greatly restored we head for St James’s Palace, spotting Seb Coe along the way... Perhaps he’s the person dishing out the awards? Arrive St James’s Palace. Hop around changing shoes and part company with the men. Only one guest per young person, sadly. We’ve been told to bring two forms of ID but Rose and I have a collection between us, j

Call of the Wild

Three years ago we moved into a large, attractive house on the edge of a village, close to the coast and with beautiful views of the Preseli hills (and Preseli Mags of course!). We’d escaped to the country, but didn’t want our friends and family to feel we’d abandoned them. ‘Come whenever you like,’ we said. And they did! The last three years have been a brilliant, sociable time with many visitors and lots of laughs. Considering we live in a quiet close, our neighbours are a very convivial bunch too. We’ve got to know more people here and had more invitations than when we lived in a Victorian end-terrace on a busy street in the middle of a Surrey town. Sooner or later all parties come to an end and lately we’ve been feeling a bit restless. We’ve found our feet here, in this lovely location, but now we’re ready for the next adventure. ‘Hotel’ H is on the market and we’re looking for something a bit more remote. ‘ More remote!’ is the usual retort from anyone

Ode to a LLama

Alas, I didn't win the mystery prize in the llamarama 'Write an ode to a LLama' competition so I shall never know if I missed out on a llama on the lawn or - sigh - an N-Dubz hat, but, hey!, I was one of three runners-up singled out for a 'special mention' - hurray! Congratulations to the winner, Kim Hall. For a special performance of my own effort, please click above. PS, That word my actress is slurring is 'cria', a baby llama... Honestly, where's Kate Winslet when you need her?