Writing journey

Excuses, Reality and a little bit of calm.

I have been missing in action this week- on here, social media and shamefully writing. All geared up at the start of the week I was ready to finish my first draft of The Ellfaenian Journals. I had Megg Geri’s How to Write a Novel in 30 days and my journal in hand and I had reconnected with the Ninja Writers course that set this blog in motion, I was motivated to write. Life had other ideas.

After a short traumatic incident which  I don’t wish to relive in words or in my head, I hurt my good hand.  The hand I rely on for everything especially typing and using my phone. Writing until now has been reduced to a muddle of letters that roughly allow the phone to autocorrect texts for requests for more medication and cups of tea from my daughter.

Moments of calm before the storm
A perfect excuse not to write!

On the plus side I have gained inside information for several scenes in the journals, my antagonist will feel my pain and more, and I have the first-hand experience of the NHS today which will help form the reality of a story. Spending time in under the duvet also gave me time to finish We Other by Sue Bentley – review coming soon. As a writer, I love the idea that even in the darkest moments, there are snippets of information and experience we can use for later in our work.

My focus, while I wait for the hand to heal, is remembering the moments of calm before the storm. When peace and inspiration were key; notes were taken while listening to birdsong and appreciating the Yorkshire countryside.

More soon.


Short story, Writing journey

Flash fiction: Memories

So many memories are bombarding my mind, waiting to be heard, seen and felt. Visions flash before me; first places I have been and then faces. Some are laughing, smiling and others are sobbing and even full of fear. All of them I have known from before. Some I hold dear and loved deeply yet others like the man with an upturned moustache was just a passerby walking his dog.

But they told me I would forget.

I recall voices. So many voices all talking at once, merging into one hellish cacophony of noise.

They told me I would forget.

The memories keep on coming, speeding up making me feel sick. I want it to stop.

I want to forget.

Then I remember a memory clear and slow. The sky is clear and blue. She is in the doorway holding our baby and she smiles as I turn and wave goodbye. I promise them I will be home soon. I remember.

I do not want to forget.

I hear the scream. The thud.  Silence.
Anger and frustration burn inside me building up. I scrunch my eyes, ball my fists and yell as loud as I can.

Then I forget.