Post-Christmas writing

I find that over the Christmas period I never get to write. I mean it is normally only three or four days, but it is the time when I am exhausted, too tired to even start up the netbook and outline a quick short story. Instead, by evening I am in a stupor of drink, food and company.

I thoroughly enjoy it but by the time I get out to the workshop, which takes an age to heat up because it has been empty and unused for a while, I sit down at the keyboard with relief.

But this morning I added another activity to the routine – I walked my over active pup. Now, when I say pup I mean she is about fourteen months old. I got her thinking she was a medium dog, but she has grown into a giant. Bigger than my friends Standard Poodles. So I knew I had to watch her as she grew, everyone said that too much exercise could damage her joints, but this Christmas I noticed she was filling out, looking less like a baby horse with floppy legs, and more like a dog.

So today I added a quick walk. Only about ten minutes. She seems to have enjoyed it. And so did I. The mountains near us are covered in snow and just beautiful.

What has this got to do with writing?

Well, by the time I walked into the workshop and sat down I realised I was smiling. Despite the deadlines and the missed deadlines over the last two months I couldn’t wait to start. The stories are swirling inside my head and I want to write and not move.

I suppose in a way I got what I wanted for Christmas, an over-excited dog and a path to walk her on. Suddenly, I don’t care what the New Year brings because I know that I will get there, because I’m not alone. Not any more.

As for writing… Well, I am still working on the WIP. It may be taking a while but I’m really enjoying writing it.


Merry Christmas!

I know I haven’t been on the net for a while, but in my defense there has been a serious amount of making, baking and icing going on.

I have made 36 pies, 2 lbs of gingerbread and one large mincemeat and apple pie. The pies were three flavours; apple, apple and ginger and mincemeat. I can eat the apple ones… I have yet to find any mincemeat that hasn’t got nuts or palm oil in, both of which I’m allergic to.

So, as of tonight there are about 5, yes 5, gingerbread biscuits left… and most of the pies, although the mincemeat pies have taken a bashing. And despite being tired I am happy that everyone has a smile and seems content. Of course we won’t be opening the gifts until tomorrow. Technically it is Christmas Day here, but only 12.30 at night. I have sat down to watch the obligatory horror movie (it’s got to be done), which this year is ‘Cabin Fever’. Yep, it is as bad as it sounds…

So to everyone who reads the blog, or just this post, – Merry Christmas! I hope that your day is brilliant and that Santa has given you everything you asked for, as long as you were on the good list. I hope I am.



Flight – Can Bisty come to terms with Dee’s death? The next part of ‘The Gone’.

The Gone

We start to move away and I can’t help but look behind us. Just moments ago Dee had been fine and now she was nothing more than a broken pile on the floor. I ought to feel something, but I don’t. At one point, when she’d held the knife on Max, I would have killed her myself, yet now that she is dead I don’t feel anything. Not sympathy, not relief, nothing.

“Max?” I call out. He slows and walks beside me. He says nothing but I know he is waiting for me to say something.

“Dee…” I start.

“I had to,” he interrupts. “She was turning and despite everything she didn’t deserve to become on of those things…”

I place a hand on his arm. “I know. I was just worried….”

“What about?”

I sigh and drop my hand. “I felt nothing. I ought to, but…” I shrug.


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Getting back to a normal routine…

I was back to the doctor today. It feels like I have been ill for the last month…

Oh, wait! I have. And I must admit I’m a little grumpy about it. I have missed Christmas parties and meetings, and now that I’m feeling a little more normal my social calendar is clear.

But the doctor didn’t give me a full bill of health. Nope, I have the residues of a chest infection that is making it even painful to breath, and… this one is embarrassing… I have glue ear. Yep, the condition normally associated with pigtails and children and I have got a case. The doctor was very good and kept a straight face, even if he was a little too serious.

So, I’m on the mend and apart from being sulky about not getting to go to a few parties I’m happy. You see, tomorrow I am going to have a go at writing. Up to now I have been pecking at the book between sniffs and coughs, but now I feel almost human.

I am even getting a Christmas-y vibe. And my bad mood is slowly disappearing having be banished by words and cards with far too much glitter.

A Challenge…

The writer’s carnival has posed a challenge:

Every character, every person, everybody has flaws. So the challenge is to show us one of your character’s flaws using no more than three sentences.

So here is my answer…

I stand and look in the mirror, not really seeing what’s there. You see, I know that I’m decent looking, but I see a monster; one eye is larger and lower than the other, my mouth twisted to one side and a pug nose. Except that it is a lie, a phantom created by my own mind to make me believe I am less than others, the reality is that I’m beautiful, I just can’t see it.

Excellent challenge! I may do more…

Forgetting secret Santa…

It was writing group day and I had got ready with cards and a secret Santa present… and then left them on the dinning room table.

I didn’t realise that I had until I got to the house where the meeting/party was. Instantly, I felt guilty. But, you know what, no one minded. When secret Santa was pulled I just didn’t get a present. It wasn’t that bad. I did wonder at what everyone had got, but I wasn’t wracked with guilt. I was sorry that I’d forgotten the present but it wasn’t the big end-all problem I thought it would be.

A lot of the time the Asperger’s can get bad if I fail at something, but the feeling never came. I waited…


Then I realised that it wasn’t going to. The reason? I like the people I meet with and I’m comfortable in their company, so there are no issues. Yes, I forgot but it is no big deal.

That got me thinking about the ghost writing and my own writing. I have been taking on the writing in order to earn some cash, but it is easier if I just do the illustration for others.


I don’t know. Maybe it’s because my writing feels more like ‘mine’. I think it has to do with me not learning to read until I was 11. I think that because I have only been writing for the last two years it feels new and very personal. It’s harder to hand over the rights to a story than it is for the artwork. It’s as if I’ve become desensitized to doing it for the art.

So from now on, to save my own heart-ache I’m going to be drawing for a living. Anyone want a portrait or pet portrait?

I’m kidding… Unless you do?

But hopefully this will cut down on the stress. And I won’t forget anymore presents. At least today I remembered the cake!

The reality of life…

I have been working hard. I’ve been writing hard, all week. The only problem is that I’ve been working on someone else’s work.

So I finish and I sit back, happy. It’s not a long piece but it is now a cohesive bit of writing. I have converted an adult text to one that can be understood by children. I’ve added illustrations and set it out beautifully so that there are now contents, introduction…. Well, you get the idea.

So I go the the site and sent it to the client. He comes back and says he loves it. I do a little dance.

Then he says, ‘but’…


Then the corrections start. Some are valid and some have very little baring on the piece of work. Still I need the cash so I do it. Then I start to wonder about the contract. The client is asking more than I signed up for.

So I have a look.

Guess what?

I didn’t read the contract before I accepted. The client has changed the price…. I didn’t spot it. So instead of working for a wage, I have just thrown a week into the wind. I am going to get something (if he pays) but it isn’t close to minimum wage.

The moral of this story – always read the contract. ALWAYS!

So the next project has come up, an illustration one. And I read the contract, this time all was fine.

Annoyed though that there is nothing I can do because I accepted the conditions.

Still next week it will all be behind me and I will work on my own writing. For now I’m just going to grin and bare it. My own silly fault.