THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

I am now steaming toward the end of my first draft of my 'Monet' novel. It has been hard work but so enjoyable living in 1912 with all that wonderful food and clothes, flowers and sunshine. Now comes the nice bit of planning my return trip to Giverny and plan the publication. April should be so beautiful there with riots of beautiful spring flowers. What an inspiration it was to me. How marvellous the mind that can come up with stories.

A PRIDE OF WRITERS

WE HAD  A TRUE SOIREE LAST NIGHT: A WAM FIRE, WINE AND DELICIOUS NIBBLES WHILE EACH ONE IN TURN READ OUT THEIR WORK. WHAT A TREAT OF ALL KINDS OF WRITING FROM A BEAUTIFUL POEM ABOUT KEATS TO THE STORY OF  A BEAUTY QUEEN MANQUE. THERE WAS GUITAR PLAYING AND SINGING, TOO. AS I SAT THERE I THOUGHT HOW WONDERFUL IT IS WHEN A GROUP OF PEOPLE GET TOGETHER AND CREATE SUCH ENJOYMENT...THE  PLEASURE OF CONVERSATION ND CREATIVITY. I WAS PLEASED TO HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO READ THE FIRST CHAPTER OF MY 'MONET' NOVEL AND TO FEEL I WAS GOING IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION.
TODAY I TRIED TO COME UP WITH A COLLECTIVE DESCRIPTION FOR A GROUP OF WRITERS  AND DECIDED ON A PRIDE. YOU HAVE TO BE LION HEARTED TO KEEP ON WRITING AND ALSO TO READ YOUR WORK ALOUD.

A LUCKY BLACK CAT AND THOSE NOT SO LUCKY

I searched for my black cat, tonight. I found her. She was just outside in her fur coat playing in the cold But tonight I think too of all those feral cats trying to find somewhere t be warm. This year, I am happy to say, I was able to give my friend Elke enough money to feed colonies of feral cats this winter.  They still dn;t have anyone to cuddle and caress them but at least they will have something to eat  As you snuggle down to sleep tonight think of them. Maybe you might even think about helping them...all those animals who, from no fault of their own, suffer in these old months.

COLD OUTSIDE, COSY WITHIN

Today our group had a good session. We delved deep into the subject of 'style', what is it? We say we like one writer's style and not another, but what do we mean? In my book and briefly because it is a complicated subject it is a balanced mix of elements such as narration, description, dialogue etc. It is also, and this is a hobby horse of mine: being true to yourself and your unique 'voivce' This i such a liberating thing as we don;t have to copy other writers nor think they are good an we are not...we simply have to be ourselves. The third and one of the most important factors, in my view anyway is the use of desciptive detail...the showing not telling school. Just a few telling details can set up such reverberation in the reader's mind and send them off on flights of their own imagination. Such power writing has, such energy and pleasure. We shared this, this afternoon. It might have been a nasty chilly day outside, but we five sat cosy and content in Nice Slice.

WRITING AT FIRST HAND

Thinking about the thorny subject of showing versus telling. Its really a question of slipping into the shoes of the person, emotion, situation and feeling it with all one's senses. It's not about describing feelings. I spend a lot of time in my own work going back over what I have written to make sure the scene is visual. 

But of course, there are times when telling is useful to whizz through a secondary episode and move on to the next drama. I suppose the secret is to understand rhythm. I am looking forward to discussing this with the group next Tuesday.

GOOD WEATHER FOR WRITERS

Just come in from paying bills and glad to be back in the warm. We have been lulled into thinking our climate was turning Mediterranean but, oh no, here it comes again. This is the time of year when our thoughts turn to escaping to a sunny clime. As a writer however, this is 'good' weather for finishing that story or starting work on another for a competition. Writers weather is very different from other people's. I can remember when I lived in Sicily the beach and the sun called and work was left in favour of a swim. So today I will make some hot soup and WRITE.

POINTO F VIEW

Getting point of view right is one of the arts of professional writing.  The reader  has to be given the illusion they are entering a story not written by the author but the narrater. This is the camera's eye with the ability to also smell taste and feel. Then the narrater steps into the point of view character's shoes. It is logical once you grasp it.

KNOWLEDGE IS A DANGEROUS THING

I have spent most of my life understanding what it is to be a writer. I trust myself and the knowledge I have gained. But sharing that knowledge with other human beings is often fraught with danger of exploitation. It seems to me that the world is peopled with givers and takers. The latter is very willing to take the knowledge I so willingly share and use it for their own ends. One is persuaded to think it is better to keeps things to oneself....but that is not my nature. I believe in inclusivity not to exclude and divide people. I would rather risk the danger than not be true to myself.

CHRISTMAS

Whether we like it or not, Christmas is well and truly on its way. Every year I say I am not sending cards, not decorating the house, I wish I could stay on my own and just read and write. But there is a child like part of me that sneakily starts to get into the spirit of Christmas. I am enchanted by the lights in Brighton strung like an enormous blue spider's web above the clock tower, and I'll be checking out the London lights next week in Regent street. I'll send cards, I like to receive them, I love having post. I suppose all those with a creative mind retain this child within so that we keep on observing, questioning, being surprised. And never grow old.

LET IT SNOW

I have been lost on my novel writing these last few days, I couldn;t go outside, the roads were too slippery.  I've been wandering again with Monet in his garden, sifting laundry with Blanche while she remembers how once she was a painter and now must be a full time carer. I can empathise very much with Blanche. I lived with my mother for the lst years of her life and experienced the mixed emotions of love, sympathy frustration and sometimes anger. It is a hard task for a single woman but it is still mainly women who carry out this role. I wrote a non fiction book called THE CARING TRAP and interviewed many people who had been in the same situation as myself. But of course life's experiences is what shapes us and shapes our artistic work. They are our raw materials which over time compost down to create the fertile soil for new blossoms. I do find it hard though to keep to this rule sometimes. It would be rather nice if one just had glorious experiences to draw on. I am not convinced that suffering is good for you!

THE VOICE WITHIN

My last workshop explored being true to yourself and not comparing your writing with anyone else.

Your experiences, your life and the things you have seen or done are as unique to you as someone else’s experiences are to them. Even if you took two people of the same age and made them live identical lives and identical experiences, such as is the case with many identical twins, you would still find that there are vast differences in how each of those two individuals perceives the reality around them, eventually forming their own view of the world based on their own emotions, internal drives and motivators.

You are unique, this means that as a writer, your style of writing prose is just as valid as the prose writing of say, Charles Dickens, Stephen King or Emily Bronte. The trick is to release the person that is inside you and let that person do the writing.

A great exercise to help you do this is to close your eyes and think of a place or a person you feel strongly about. These could be good or bad feelings, it really doesn’t matter but you must have a strong emotional affinity towards that person or place.

WHAT'S IN A NAME?

A great deal if the results of the BBC Radio National Short Story results are anything to go by. I am not saying that David Constantine's story wasn't good. It was and should be considering he is a well established writer. But I honestly think that such competitions should invite stories to be submitted anonymously. You can;t tell me that any judge whose eye clocks a name like this isn't going to have a slight prejudice, however much they might deny it to themselves. It is so hard to get any kind of foot on the ladder while there are some excellent writers still in the wilderness who are 'a name'. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet: a story should stand by its own merit and not be garnished with a writer with  track record of success. That's what I think, anyway. I'd be interested to hear other people's views.

WE ARE EACH OF US UNIQUE

As I was saying in my workshop yesterday: everyone of us is unique both as a person and in our creative work. Therefore, there is no point in saying someone else writes better than we do which extends to anyone who appears to have a glamourous life style. Having said that, I am by no means perfect on this point. With this cold weather, envy creeps in of those who jet away for weeks at a time to the sun. I tell myself what I must do instead is use this time to write read d those jobs in the house that I left undone in sunny weather. There is the cinema and theatre to enjoy, lovely soups and casseroles. I will try but it isn;t always easy!

LIVING IN MY IMAGINATION

This afternoon I've  sat on a sun dappled terrace, sipping lemonade with my heroine Judith. I've had dinner with a group of American painters in a 1912 restaurant and discussed impressionism. Later I walked with Claude Monet in his twilit garden while bats swooped through the blue air and moths drank from flowers. The air was heavy with the scents of jasmine and stock. My imagination takes me to so many places and just for a while, while I am writing, Iescape the darkness and coldness of this onset of winter. I wish I could always live in my mind.

SHALL WE DANCE?

I m beginning to feel as if i am talking to myself and no one ever responds to the subjects I throw up. It would be great to have thoughts from you who read this blog. Come dance with me!

ARE WE ROMANS?

I was discussing the use of the numeral rather than the number in letters which creeps into so much writing, these days. e.g. 8 year old Susan instead of eight year old Susan. My friend, Andrew, who edits his own magazine is constantly correcting this in the press releases he receives. It doesn't seem to be happening quite so much in fiction. Apostrophe is another problem it seems. The famous example, of course, is the misuse outside shops apple's panini's etc. I have a terrible urge to correct them.
Back to this use of numerals: do we think we are Romans?

THE FOUR SEASONS

Well, this week it seems we have definitely come to Winter. The nights have been frosty and snow is forecast. I spent some time today potting up my geraniums for their winter sojourn indoors. Yesterday and today the morning sky has been beautiful but harbinger of a day that will then come to an end around four.
Talking to one of the writers on Sunday she was telling us about her imminent departure to foreign climes to escape the winter and we all said we envied her. But do I? I adore the sun, of course, but there is something about this season which resonates with the moods of the creative mind. Maybe it gives time to write because there isn't a lot you can do outside. Or maybe it is a fallow season with all the energies gone underground to germinate and prepare for new growth in the Spring. That's not to say that there can't be a spot of Spring in the middle of winter when one of those ideas unexpectedly starts to sprout and you're presented with a huge bouquet. This season of the four is a profound one and one to meditate on.

HARVEST HOME

In September, this year, I did a grand mail out of my work entering competitions and sending scripts to script readers and fringe theatres. I am happy to say that some of my chickens have roosted. I started off by being long listed for Flash Fiction 500 then there was ScriptReaders who were offering 12 slots for rehearsed readings at Stratford East. My play Sa's Story reached the third and final stage. Tonight I've just heard I am one of the three prizewinners for the Clemence Dane award for my play Homecoming.
All encouraging stuff. It is hard taking rejection but I've learned to cope with it. I just keep sending out, sending out. That's the secret to have lots of your material 'out there' And now and again you reap the harvest.

A POST SCRIPT

We downloaded the Elgar programme and watched it tonight. What a joy, what an insight into a man who had all the problems of the human condition and translated them into grandness. This is the lesson: to take what life throws us and let the imagination transmute it into gold.

CAKE AND FEEDING THE SOUL

Continuing on the tea party theme, I've never seen so much delicious cake which was disappearing fast as if the guests hadn;t eaten cake for a long time. There was a sense of celebration, today, not only that of Jean's birthday but, among our little group of writers, at least, a celebration of the work we do of how we all, in our different ways, use our imaginations to create other worlds. Looking down that table, I felt uplifted that, in this day of technology and digital methods the printed word is still nurtured by writers like these. That feeling fed my soul.