Today was interesting. In fact, it was fun. I went on a taster course for forensics. Okay, I was sat next to the interested and the young. Some wanted to know if Lewis was correct while others where there to find out if they wanted to pursue it as a career.
I was there to help with the writing. It can be frustrating that I don’t know the name of those things they put on the floor to stop them contaminating the crime scene. Or what those white suits are called…
And this course answered most of the questions, but I did find myself booking onto the long one. I just had to. There is so much I don’t know.
I love the fact that the Cinderella test is to study the inside of the boot or shoe to find out who has been wearing it. The name is just wonderful… There has to be a story that can be built around that.
Then there is DNA and Fingerprints… Fibres and Footprints….
I think that January is going to be busy and very interesting. 🙂
C.S. Wilde challenged me to two sentence story… So here it is and here’s the link so you can have a go as well:
The lights were getting brighter behind her, but Liv had no where to go except down. Giving a small sigh she moved her feet through the mud at the cliffs edge and quietly stepped forward.
I have been in a retrospective mood. It was just January that I put aside the toys (I was a toy manufacturer) and became a full-time writer and artist. Since then I have published a novella and a novel. There are another two novels on the go and I have ideas for a couple more.
I’ve drawn more that fifty artworks and am currently thinking about going into sculpture.
It has been a busy year…
Except I feel frustrated.
When I did my masters I specialised in Screen-writing and Children’s literature, but in these genres I have done nothing. It strikes me that maybe I ought to try. Except that I am time poor at the moment. It is so frustrating.
On top of it all I have been ill. I was plagued with flu and colds in the beginning of the year and I have also been sick lately. All it has made me feel is that I’m not reaching my full potential.
I was chatting to a friend the other day and they said I ought to just write when I could. And I realised that I don’t.
It is almost as if my writing has become a job of work. I get up and start work and then I leave work…. Where has all the spontaneity gone? My novel and novella have grown out of ideas scribbled in the dark, and on windy days, but the body of the work was almost regimented.
I’m not sure that it is the best way for me to work…
I revel in the chaos of creativity. I understand that I need a goal everyday but why does it have to be done so orderly? Why can’t I write when I want? Why can’t I disappear into my own world outside of a nine to five day?
So my 41st year is going to be one where I embrace the fact that I am a creative. If I want to write between midnight and three am there ought to be nothing to stop it.
It’s almost as if I am stifling myself and it has to stop… Right now. I need to get more work done and if I do that by being more chaotic, then so be it.
I don’t have a nine to five job so maybe I ought to stop pretending I do…
I’ve just finished watching a series called ‘River’. It’s a great story that revolves around a man who hears voices, and sees them… As I was watching a rabbit in armour was sitting on my shoulder and screaming a war cry, whilst a woman was crouched in the corner of the room crying because life had become so hard since her fiancé had died….
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think I am losing my mind… At least no more than any writer, but I do hear voices and see characters. I can’t help it. Plots evolve as I’m shopping and in the quiet moments I can find myself talking to characters that I had thought were only half-formed; watching them grow and become three-dimensional.
I found that I had an affinity with the character, River, on the TV screen. As he screamed against the problems with his mind, I smiled at the rabbit and comforted the woman. They are my characters and maybe I’m a little crazy but I have got to embrace my differences. I can’t try to ‘fix’ my head or get counselling because there is nothing wrong with me – I’m a writer.
Do I want to silence the voices? No… I want to embrace them and invite more. I turned to the short story submissions today and thought about the year… I have barely submitted any. So I wondered to my short story portfolio and opened it… (Yes, it is a physical file… I just love being able to rifle through it).
There is nothing left. Everything is either out or has been published.
It stumped me. So as I watched ‘River’ I realised that as he struggled to become ‘normal’ I need to invite more characters in. I need to create plots and populate worlds.
Right now though my characters are suggesting a cup of tea and some chocolate… I may take their advice.
Note: The armoured rabbit is a character that has been knocking around for a children’s story. He is very persistent and very bloodthirsty. In fact, he is very un-rabbit like.
In a few days I am going to be forty and I thought that I knew all I could about my mental disability. I mean, I thought that there was no way it could throw up any more surprises, but I guess I was being a little naive.
So I have been ill, I’m okay now but I did require a small stay in hospital, but the first thing I noticed was that my dyslexia was getting worse. In reality it wasn’t, but because my body was tired and not coping well, my mind wasn’t as sharp. Everything got a little foggy. Basically, my main computer became a nightmare to work with. I couldn’t work out why…
But my new netbook was fine.
So despite my foggy existence I decided to find out why. I didn’t know what was wrong, in fact I thought there was nothing wrong. So I did some experiments and pretty much worked out that I was finding it difficult to type using a black keyboard. My netbook is white with grey letters.
I immediately jumped onto my favourite online retailer and started looking for a white keyboard… They are few and far between. Finally I found one and although it isn’t exactly right it is better.
I am now fixed and the funny thing is that my dyslexia is much better with the white. I suppose without being ill the difference is slight, but it has meant I can work for longer…
I don’t know how it works. I know I have Meares Irlen, but this seems to go against what I was told about that. If anything the keyboard is too much like white on black… I feel I need the letters to be greyer… If that makes sense. But it is better than the black one.
Hopefully I will find what I’m looking for, but if anyone knows where I can get a similar keyboard or a coloured one, I’d be very appreciative. Thanks all.
I have been worried about my word count. Life has been getting in the way and I’m about 3000 words behind with Nanowrimo. I find myself sinking into the ever increasing circle of doubt and sadness. I know that there are other things that are acting on me. I have had yet another cold and lately I’ve been finding sleep hard to come by. I’m not certain why… but this bout of insomnia has been a bother to me.
Yet the other day I read on a friends post on Facebook – that he didn’t really take it seriously. Then I started to wonder at it.
Should I be turning myself inside out because I haven’t reached a number on the word counter? Surely I ought to be more pleased that the Gone 2 is easy to read, and according to my editor, is a great read. Should this not be more important?
I think it should. I am still hoping that I will reach the word count but I’m concentrating on the content rather than the speed in which I’m writing it. Wish me luck…
And an update in the Gone 2. Bitsy is about to go to war, she has saved one person and kissed Max. Connor and Duke are safe, and there is romance in the air. Bitsy’s world is about to get full and very noisy…
I’m doing Nanowrimo this year. It’s my third go and this time, so far, I’m on track. I ought to mention that I have never been able to reach the end, never hit that word count.
Last year I was 30,000 words adrift.
So what am I writing this year?
The Gone 2 – Evolution
Yes! Bitsy is back and so far she has rescued a boy, talked to Ricky, run from the baddies and seen two dead bodies, and 2 gone. It’s been busy and I’m only 5000 words in!
I’ll keep you updated. Of course it is early days, but everything is crossed.