Thursday, 29 January 2015

Giving up writing

I am giving up writing... not forever, just for February.

Although to be honest, I haven't written much over January, so it's not a huge loss to daily life.

Why am I doing this? Because Hubby is off on a six week tour (well, five weeks and two days...) and I'm going to be at home with a manic dog, a teen with college interviews and mock exams, and a 10 year old with a birthday coming up. I also have to juggle my work hours, especially around the up-coming half-term holiday.

Writing just feels like a huge extra pressure that I don't need.

Have I ever mentioned how I don't cook? Hubby does it all. He's great at it. When I cook, my kids sit down to dinner with expressions that say don't worry Mum, it can't be as bad as last time!

Instead of writing, I'm planning to spring clean early. I'm currently listing all the things that need doing in each room, because - I don't know if you're the same - I tend to clean everything, put all the stuff away, and then realise I missed wiping down the paintwork on the back of the door. Or I'll have done the door, but missed the frame. I figure, with a list that I tick off, I'll actually get through everything.

Without the pressure of writing, I'm looking forward to watching a few films I've got recorded, and to - definitely, absolutely - do some reading.

What are your February plans?
Do you ever put writing on hold to, you know, have a life?
Do you have any ideas for films and books I should check out?

Monday, 19 January 2015


If I was a poet, I'd write some long and dirge-like, something to eek out every inch of biting wind misery and icy rain pain!

I'm not a fan of January. Every year, I think it can't be quite as bad as I remember it... But it is! It's the 19th today, but it feels like I've been in January for at least twice as long as that.

The sky is grey, the heating bills are sky-rocketing, and occasionally I can't even see the end of my road due to some very thick fog.

Worse than that, getting to the end of January is the sole item on my to-do list - so it's not like I'm taking advantage of these 38 hour days by writing more, I'm just passing time.

Sorry for the whinge, I'm off to watch the clock, and possibly to find a kettle to boil.

Please share the good things about January.
And, if you live in the southern hemisphere, what are the good things about your winter?

Wednesday, 7 January 2015

IWSG: New Year, Same Problems!

Happy New Year, Insecure Writers!

Are you a member? Have you considered joining and not go around to it yet? Why not make 2015 the year you join and discover the amazing talent, helpfulness and all round awesomeness of the members?

Click here to check out the members and sign up.


I thought, by now, almost three years after publishing my first book - and subsequently publishing two other books - I wouldn't be insecure any more, that I'd have an abundance of advice for people, that I'd be happily gliding through story after story, novel after novel...

It's okay, loyal blog followers, I'm light years away from that!

And that's a good thing.

I'm repeating myself. I've said this before on this blog, and in comments on other blogs. Once a writer becomes secure there is a chance they'll start to become complacent. A writer should feel insecure. They should question themselves, their ideas, their application of those ideas.

I'm reminding myself of this more than I'm telling you. I finished a novel late last year, and now I am bereft of ideas for the next one. I've been scribbling in my notebook for a few days, but really I'm going around in circles. Ten minutes ago, I had an ah-ha moment, but it's really just the whisper of an idea at the moment. I'm certain more will appear soon, but I have to wait.

I have to wait for my own subconscious to do the hard work!!

There are probably many writers who abide by the 'write every day, don't wait for inspiration' process fainting right now. So, sorry about that.

But, also, if you're really feeling insecure right now, just think of me, sitting in front of a blank page, waiting for a dream to point me in the right direction.