Find your centre…

That is the best advice I have ever been given. Find that place where you are you and relax into it.

The first time I tried I laughed. Where I’m me? But I’m always me… It made no sense.

I get frustrated at language and not being able to put the words correctly on the page. If I get tired the words dance and twist. But I write. I love language. I love to draw a picture on a page with words.

For years, decades even, I wouldn’t write. It was something I knew I couldn’t do.

Instead I told people my stories.

I must have really annoyed people.

Don’t get me wrong. I would start books. Get about 5,000 words in and then stop. It would become overwhelming. My brain would jump ahead and my hand couldn’t keep up. There was no way. I would become frustrated and start to move to fast. The book would become a series of quick action.

The cat would sleep on the mat but you never found out why it slept, what colour it was or where it was.

The writing was more like a series of facts. A list.

Nothing like a novel.

Then one day I was told to centre myself.

And I did. I found the girl inside that had found out she couldn’t write. She once again sat in the class and was told how bad she was at writing (yes, in front of the rest of the class). She took the spelling tests and bore the brunt of coming last. She watched as the other kids would smile and nudge each other at her lack of reading ability. And there I found that kid who was brave enough to try.

She wrote the stories and read out in class despite it being hard and bad. She took the laughter with a shrug and a smile.

She was my centre. That brave kid with the smile and long plaited hair.

Once I found her I found my courage. I stood up and read. Only this time people clapped. I wrote stories and got published. People would read my books. I got a couple of reviews and they were good. Suddenly I was a writer.

And all because I found my centre. I manage to push the frustration aside and smile.

Inspired by the daily prompt – centre


I jiggle.

There isn’t a lot I can do about it. I have been larger than I am now. A lot larger, but oddly I am never aware of my weight until I start to lose it. Then I feel vulnerable. Then I feel fat.

Up until then it is as if I don’t care. And I don’t.

I start to lose weight and suddenly I’m aware that I am fat. I have to buy clothes… And I realise that the image in my head is not what I look like.

I make a lot of my own clothes. You would have thought that if I see a thinner me in my head, then I would cut them all too small. But the opposite is true. You see my metal image is smaller but the one I see in the mirror is huge!

I made a dress yesterday. I cut it out to my size. I even used a tape measure.

I ended taking it in by about eight inches… I basically had to re cut it.

I’m not that big. Not as big as I think I am.

I’m not as small as I imagine myself to be.

I sit in the middle.

And yes, I have bits that jiggle, but I am trying to love them. I’m trying to feel comfortable in my own skin. And for the most part I am succeeding.


Inspired by the daily prompt – jiggle.


I actually have some… I don’t know why but in my bag is a tub of green glitter.

Thinking about it I went as a witch to the last Halloween. I think it may be a lost soul from that. Oddly though I didn’t use any. So it just sits.


Sometimes I wonder if I ought to give it away, but, as I start to, I realise that it is the only body glitter I have ever owned. Am I likely to replace it?


So, I hold onto it. Just in case there is ever a need for green glitter.

Inspired by the daily prompt – glitter


I wear glasses, a lot… In truth all the time. I am particularly blind without them. If you know about eyes then I have astigmatism, a squint and myopia. If you don’t know eyes then I have nearsightedness, I can’t see horizontal or vertical and if I get tired my right eye can look at my nose.

I also have meares irlen, a condition that means I see too much light. Colours are brighter for me, light can be painful and I have to wear a tint on my glasses. It’s a sort of purple one. I also have a pair of reaction lenses that make the sun less of an issue, if I remember to wear them of course.

So life being a blur is something that I understand. It is all a blur at times. If I take my glasses off and see the world normally I don’t see much. Colours and light. Shapes.

But somehow it can also be the time that I see clearest. Not with my eyes though. You take my glasses and I can hear more, I smell more and I can taste more. My eyes are not the only sense I use. Sometimes it isn’t the fact I see someone that makes everything different. It is the fact that I can feel and smell them.

Sounds odd? Well, everyone has a smell, or a feel.

Because of my aspergers I have very little in the way of facial recognition. I have recently even even walked past my mum, and I have known her all my life.

I was a sickly child. And mum was forever being called into school. From the moment she opened the school door I would know she was there.

“She’s here,” I’d say to the nurse.

“How can you tell?”

And I’d just shrug. But the reality is that my mum drags one leg slightly, damage from a childhood accident. She has a unique beat, a music to her walk that I can recognise. The world may be blurry but I can use other senses to make it clearer.

So, yes I am odd. I will listen more than see. And I will recognise you from other things apart from your face. That is a blank canvas to me…

Inspired by the daily prompt – Blur


I’m getting to that bit in the novel where the action is about to pick up. I’m finding that I’m writing faster and faster, trying to finish. I need to know as much as you what my characters are going to do.

Sure, I plan, but the plans are never complete. There is always room for them to do something new. And the book hit a lull. For most that would be a quiet time but I found myself grinning. It only happens when the characters are starting to gather themselves.

They are about to launch themselves into the world again, and they will do it at break-neck speed. So I’m expecting some wonderfully juicy bits.

Yep, at the moment I’m writing with a grin…

Inspired by the daily prompt – juicy233798733_33f14e3441_o


What’s happening?

Well, I have been working like mad to get the picture book finished as a physical book and as an ebook, and I have finally managed. The two editions are now ready to be published and I hope to do that before the end of next week!

The ebook
The paperback

The colouring book needs two final illustrations and I’m thinking of the Pied Piper and Beauty and the Beast…

I just can’t decide whether to put their names on them or not… These are easy to see but some are more obscure.

Can’t make up my mind…


Have you ever listened to rumor? I do, but I try not to take any notice. And I do google my name with things like bad and negative comments next to it. I suppose it is in us all to see the worse easier than the best.

I saw this on Facebook today:


And I realised that it is completely true. You don’t see yourself or how other people see you. I have friends and family who are supporting me through a bit of a tough time but I still look in the mirror and see someone who is washed out and defeated. But by the end of the day I have fought with my emotions and the reality of what has happened. I don’t see the me that everyone else does. I see the me that looks back with eyes have have too much in them.

Should I change?

I don’t think I can. All I can do is remember that I am more than that reflection. That people want to see me. That I am loved.

I just wish my friends would do the same, because some of them can tie themselves in knots because of what they have heard. How can one bad thing cancel out all the good?

I see it happen and watch it as it even happens to me. Why do I let it? Over something I have heard.

Inspired by the Daily Prompt – Heard