Looking for Mr Write

imustwritemoreIt’s been a while since I have blogged on here and (it feels) even longer since I have written anything of any calibre. I could blame not enough time: I have three kids and a job to maintain on top of all the work I have been doing for Paper Swans. I could blame not enough inspiration: but inspiration surrounds me in jottings made in notebooks, on serviettes and on my iPad. I could blame not enough focus: yet I am driven. So, I find the only thing left to blame is myself. There is simply not enough of me to go around. I have spread myself thin, like marmite on soldiers, and I have been consumed. My brain feels saturated with thoughts, ideas, things to do, emails, deadlines; life. Somehow, the precious writing time I used to find for myself has disappeared and I am not sure where, when or how, but I feel bereft.

I think writing can be perceived as a selfish thing. One cocoons oneself in a bubble of words and expression and the outside world is cut off, which can really piss them off. Excuse my crudity, but it fits. If it were work emails I was battling with or a Waitrose order to feed the hordes, well, that’s OK. But it’s not either of those; it is poetry.

And that doesn’t seem to count.

It’s not worthy enough. It’s a waste of time.

Or, that’s how I feel. Guilty. For writing.

So, I figure, if I already feel guilty, I may as well have an affair. I need to find Mr Write. We can spend hours together; words and emotions, spilling into the wee small hours and finding that connection, that spark that makes it all worthwhile. I want my time back; those precious minutes of sanctuary, when I write because I need to – that urgency to get the words down lest they disappear in a mist of hubbub and noise and demands. That rolling wave of precious syllables which crashes through my mind and heart and is desperate to spill onto the paper.

This is a lot of lamenting. I’m just in one of those places. Come September, my youngest child starts school and I will have a day and a half each week to myself. Since I finish teaching at 1pm on a Wednesday and don’t get the kids ’til 4pm, I plan to ensconce myself in a cafe while I wait and write, write, write.

It’s a start.

Meanwhile, I have a late night affair to begin…

Poetry in Motion

Last week I travelled north on the train to Edinburgh and spent Saturday lunch with some lovely friends who, thus far, I had only met online and via google hangouts for Open Mic nights. There are a lot of people I know who are striving to be a novelist, but not so many poets and it was so thrilling to finally share a glass of wine with Stephanie, Ellie and Helen.

As Ellie said, it was so lovely to have a conversation about writing without somebody blanking over as soon as you mention the word ‘poetry’. We chatted, we laughed, we read, we edited, we planned, we ate, we drank, we smiled. The lunch ended too soon (even if it was about 4 hours later!) and I wish we all lived nearer. Ellie, Helen and Stephanie all live in Scotland and I live just about as far south as you can get from Scotland.  However, we talked of a writers’ retreat and I hope we can organise ourselves a weekend away, somewhere halfway between Dundee and Kent, where we can carry on chatting and writing. Lovely, lovely ladies, all very talented poets and I am looking forward to the next Open Mic night (this Thursday!).



Writing-wise I have recently had work published by  Word Bohemia and a few weeks ago I won the poetry challenge over at Poetry Space. I have also been mulling over what direction to take next and have decided to have a go at some collected flash fiction. I am not sure if that is even a ‘thing’ but it will, hopefully, read as lots of little pieces of flash fiction which make up a bigger story. I say this with ‘new idea confidence’. Ask me in a month..

So, that’s me. Never enough time to write, but stealing moments here and there, usually very late at night when the house is quiet and my mind is bubbling over with words and ideas. Ever the night-hawk and definitely not a morning person!

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Back to Business

It’s been a busy few weeks and my writing time seems to be bearing the brunt. These things happen and I usually enjoy writing late at night when the house is asleep and it’s just me, my macbook and a glass of wine. However, hectic days lead to tired eyes and my bed has called me. So today when I woke up with a rush of Spring in my step I suddenly felt the unfamiliar catalyst of energy which has prompted me to clear my desk and start scribbling down some ideas.

On the topic of doing something, I have recently re-ordered some business cards and thought I might share them with you. I decided that if I was going to get the word out, I might as well do it on my cards, so I have designed some little cards from Moo.com with quotes from my writing on the front. I was rather pleased with them and Moo have sent me a link which gets new customers 10% off their order and also gives me some credit, so if you are thinking of getting some cards printed, click here. Nothing sponsored or anything, but just a discount from (in my opinion) and excellent company and with lots of conferences etc coming up I think it’s good to share…

Let’s face it, nobody else is going to do it for you!


On Tuesday, once again, I took part in Stephanie Arsoska’s Open Mic Night. It had been a looong day and I am half asleep but it was great to get the opportunity to read some stuff out loud. Even if my last one did go on a bit…sorry about that.

A bit of a no-no

It has been one of those weeks where I’m not sure where the time has gone. Is it really Friday again so soon?  I don’t seem to have had any ‘quality time’ to sit and write this week and have, instead, tapped out a few poems and lines in between cooking supper and marking books.

The week started with two shakes of the head. The Emma Press did not accept any of my poems for their Motherhood anthology (although I was unsurprised at this) and I also did not get anywhere with the Magma poetry competition I entered (again, not surprised – I entered a 3-liner!). So, all a bit of a no-no…

However, I have written some poems that I was pleased with and have the bones of others to chew on.

snoopy rejection letter

I did, inadvertently, teach myself a valuable lesson today. I recently had a conversation with Michelle at The American Resident about the differences between British and American writing and set myself the challenge to write like an American. I should explain, each week I enter a flash fiction competition run by an American site and I have noticed that the winners each week are quite similar in writing style and decided to have a go at writing in that same style and see if it improved my chances of accolade.

I tried my best and was pleased with my finished piece, ‘Ta-da!’ I thought, ‘I’ve done it!’. Until I re-read it later for editing and realised it is, undoubtedly, in the same style as my other pieces. The lesson that I learned was not about flash fiction or how to write more descriptively but that I have a style. And I like it. Useful as it is to practise different ways of writing, in the end your style comes through. It may not be to everyone’s taste, it may not be accepted for submissions or win competitions (harumph), but it is yours to treasure, to develop, to keep.

I am looking forward to a weekend of reading Amanda Jennings new novel, The Judas Scar.  I am lucky enough to have the gorgeous Amanda send me a proof copy. When I read her first novel, Sworn Secret, I literally could not put it down. I perfected the art of making tea one-handed and persuading my husband to put the kids to bed while I ‘finished my chapter…’. So I am desperate to read The Judas Scar and it has been sitting on my bookshelf for two days now, taunting me. I knew I did not have the time to surrender over the last few days but, yahoo!, it’s the weekend and tonight I plan to drink wine and read, read, read….

Linking up again with Beautiful Misbehaviour’s Writing Warriors.

Open Mic Night

Tonight I participated in my second ‘Open Mic Night’ organised by Stephanie at Beautiful Misbehaviour. I read two pieces, ‘Fighting the Thaw‘ written especially for the evening’s theme and ‘The Hangover‘ written as a prose piece as a follow-up to Dinner.

As ever, it was a very fulfilling night and amongst the lovely poetry was some very real, very honest discussion about writing, life and love.

If you are interested, why not watch or listen as you busy about your day?


I am struggling to write at the moment. I have lots of ideas and have even been organised enough to jot a few of them down, but the actual writing is like sludge; it’s there but is grey and cold and struggles to take form.

Much of this is due to time. Work is demanding and creeping more and more into my evenings and weekends. The kids are arguing a lot, which I find wearing, and there just seems to be SO much to do. The list grows like ivy over my days and suddenly I find it has taken over and feel strangled by it.

I feel guilty setting myself aside time to write when I ‘should’ be attending to other things.

I also feel physically run down. As I write this it is 1pm and I am exhausted. Really, I could lay my head on the table and sleep and sleep. My skin looks dull, my nails are splitting and I seem to have a constant headache rumbling around my skull like a thunder-cloud in a valley.

I am not sure what the answer is; time, I suspect. That precious commodity that eludes so many of us.

I am linking up with Stephanie from Beautiful Misbehaviour who has launched Writing Warriors for people like me who have to fight for their right to write (rhyme, homophones and alliteration all in one sentence!). A chance to re-group each week and spur each other on. I also promised I would include a picture of my desk where I try to write although, truth be told, a lot of my writing occurs in the kitchen which is my little sanctuary. If it was big enough I would move my desk in there and be very happy.

my desk