In celebration of the e-launch day for Alison May’s brand new romantic comedy, Midsummer Dreams, I’m posting today on the theme of all things dream-related. Be sure to check out Alison’s blog today, and see how many other dream-related posts you can find floating in the midsummer air.
I had a dream…
These are almost the lyrics to a song by the first band with whom I fell in love. (And yes, I have just watched the video, I did sing along, and I did come over all emotional.) I was ten years old when my friend introduced me to ABBA.She played Mamma Mia on her cassette player. You know the sort of machine? You had to set up the skinny microphone, balance it precariously on its Y stand, place it next to the radio, and press down the play and record buttons together to tape the Top 40 … One of those.
A long, long time ago …
With ABBA, it was love at first hearing, and for the next few Christmasses, I was guaranteed the newest album and accompanying poster. I knew every word of every song – even the B sides to the singles. I painstakingly handwrote the lyrics, lifting the arm on my record player to pause the song while I copied down the next couple of phrases.
I’d sit at my desk, staring through my window, listening to Abba, singing along, imagining I was on stage performing Fernando and Super Trouper, and I’d dream of meeting Benny, Bjorn, Agnetha and Frida.
Alas, I never met the four people who dominated the walls of my bedroom, but I have been on stage singing their songs, and enjoyed every moment of living that particular dream.
I had a nightmare…
… finding jeans that fit the small of my back.
My dream for the future…
That my children live happy, healthy and fulfilling lives, and that they know their dreams can come true. As Walt Disney said; All our dreams can come true if we have the courage to pursue them.
Four people. Four messy lives. One party that changes everything … Emily is obsessed with ending her father’s new relationship – but is blind to the fact that her own is far from perfect. Dominic has spent so long making other people happy that he’s hardly noticed he’s not happy himself. Helen has loved the same man, unrequitedly, for ten years. Now she may have to face up to the fact that he will never be hers. Alex has always played the field. But when he finally meets a girl he wants to commit to, she is just out of his reach. At a midsummer wedding party, the bonds that tie the four friends together begin to unravel and show them that, sometimes, the sensible choice is not always the right one.
Today is the third anniversary of the loss of my mum.
I find March a tough month to navigate. The first turn leads to my birthday, and three years ago, this was the day our lives careered off course when, following joint surgery, my mum became seriously ill. Just over a week later, with Mum still in hospital, we ploughed into Mother’s Day. I’d bought two CDs for Mum as her Mother’s Day gift. She didn’t get the chance to listen to them. They are in my possession now, but I can’t bring myself to play them, even though a love of music was something Mum and I shared. In 2012, this was the day I realised precisely where the road was leading. The last three days of the journey took us to the 21st March – the start of Spring – and the end of the road – and we said goodbye to my wonderful, strong, fearless mum.
I’ve thought about her every day, often with a smile, as I recall something daft we did together, and sometimes with a tear when I so desperately want to tell her my news and then remember she’s no longer next door.
With March being so tricky to navigate, we factor in or are provided with comfort breaks, for want of a better term, making the long journey bearable.
Two weeks after we lost Mum, it was agreed that as a family, we needed something positive to focus on and look forward to, so four days after the first anniversary, my husband, children and I took a holiday together that left us with memories we’ll cherish for the rest of our lives. Disneyworld 2013 was a holiday of a lifetime, and I wrote a couple of blogs about it at the time, here and here. It was a time for regrouping and the start of the healing process.
Last year, on March 21st, there were two exciting occurrences. I had a cover reveal for Follow Me Follow You, and it was announced Kate Bush was putting together a live show. I am a huge Kate Bush fan. I mean humongous. From that point on, Mum’s anniversary took on a slightly different feel, as good memories were able to sit beside those darker ones. In the August, I was one of the lucky few with a ticket to the Kate Bush Before The Dawn show, and I know Mum would have been thrilled for me.
Before The Dawn. Kate Bush.
This year, another amazing incident happened. This time it was on Sunday 15th March, Mother’s Day.
A few years ago, I was next door, making my mum’s breakfast, when she called me into the living room to view a singer on TV.
‘Come and watch this lady,’ Mum said. ‘I think her name’s Paloma. You’ll really like her.’
I stood on the threshold between the kitchen and the living room, transfixed by the red-head with this incredible voice, belting out ‘New York’ – not the Frank Sinatra one, but this one.
Stay with me, because this is what happened last Sunday. And forget my adult/mature/sensible age – this was as exciting for me as it would have been if I was still in my teens.
Paloma Faith. Bournemouth BIC March 15 2015.
I took my daughter to a Paloma Faith gig in Bournemouth, and during the performance of New York, a very special song for me, because, via my mother, it’s the one that introduced me to Paloma’s music, Paloma left the stage, walked down the aisle and greeted the fans.
And I had a moment.
Paloma and I shook hands and exchanged a nod.
It was fleeting, but it was magical, and it will remain with me forever. It was a brief connection to a person I admire and respect, and whose music always puts me in the same room with another woman I’ve admired and respected my entire life – my mum.
After the gig, as my daughter and I were walking back to the car, it occurred to me it was still Mother’s Day, and in my private, internal world of separate, seemingly unconnected incidents coming together to form a whole, another circle was complete.
Edits, edits, edits. Three rounds. The first has dropped in to my inbox. This time last year, I had no idea what to expect from the edits. This time last year I was an unpublished writer. This time last year, I was in Orlando, at Disney’s Hollywood Studios, performing in their version of American Idol, our daughter decided she would like to take up photography, our son was a trained padawan and Gajitman was looking forward to our trip to the Kennedy Space Centre.
I’m considering setting book 4 in Orlando. Research may be required.
As usual, I digress.
I have received my editor’s report for Follow Me, Follow You, and I’m looking forward to getting stuck in to improving the book. Since submitting the manuscript, I’ve made notes as to what to add, what needs to change or be explored further, and what I feel is irrelevant. Now that I have the report, I can start to physically alter the manuscript – track changes on, of course – and polish those sections that are a little lack-lustre.
I enjoy this process and intend to fully immerse myself in Victoria and Chris’s world.
Handy New Year – that’s what I’ll be having, with another sixteen days in plaster. The Hand is sporting a fantastic, luminous orange, lightweight cast. I’m very attached to it. I once had welly boots the same orange – I remember splashing about in them. I digress.
I hope you had a great Christmas and are now ready for 2014. Our tree will come down on New Year’s Day, as we prepare for my son’s birthday. I like to have a marked distinction between the events. It’s the end and the beginning wrapped up in a few days.
I’ve spent time reflecting. 2013 has been an enormous year for us.
Shortly after the first anniversary of my mum’s death, my family and I set off to Florida, and spent an incredible three weeks visiting Disneyworld and Universal Studios. This is a holiday I will never forget. It was special. It was healing. It was magical.
I saw Paloma Faith live twice, introducing my daughter to the live gig experience. Jessie J was the next concert my daughter attended, escorted by Gajitman, as I was away at the Festival of Romance.
Christmas dinner was cooked by my husband and daughter, and my son ensured our energy levels were high. I was thoroughly spoiled.
Well, that was my year, and supporting me all the way through with unconditional love was my small, but perfectly formed family, and my wonderful friends. Thank you so much.
And thank you to everyone who bought, read, and reviewed Truth or Dare?
I hope 2013 was kind to you, and I wish you all health, wealth and happiness for 2014.
The party season is in full bloom, with the Festival of Romance, and the Romantic Novelists’ Association Winter Party paving the way. Both are great events, with opportunities to meet readers, writers, book bloggers, editors, agents – all sorts of industry professionals.
5 Romaniacs
I met my publishers, Choc Lit, at the inaugural Festival of Romance, in 2011, not to mention the ladies who went on to become The Romaniacs.
The RNA parties provide the opportunity to meet with writing friends, and catch up with the latest news. It’s a great party.
I love these events, and if you are able to attend, I recommend doing so.
On the most recent trip to London for the RNA party, I had a few hours spare, so I took a trip to Harrods, something I haven’t done in years. The Christmas decorations are still on the third floor …
Tube Station
It was a fab couple of days away, but as always, I was pleased to be home with my lovely family, share with them my exploits, and show them the photos I’ve taken.
It took me a week to recover.
My next ‘big thing’ is a wrist operation, a week before Christmas, so I’m trying to get everything wrapped up before then. Excuse the pun.
Over the last sixteen months, I’ve missed being able to pop next door and tell you all my news, so as today is special, I thought I’d fill you in on what’s happened since last July 22.
Despite the beautiful playing, the Yamaha remains unsold
Well, yesterday I spliced the top of my toe on a tent peg at Yeovil Car Boot. I know; you’re raising your brow and rolling your eyes, thinking, typical, but I can see the smile trying to break out. We sold some of your pictures – the beautiful Egyptian papyrus paintings. I liked the man who bought them. He knew his stuff and he appreciated the skill and time that went into the art. Whilst he was chatting with us, he was planning where in his flat he was going to hang them. He had seven ear-rings in one ear. He told me it didn’t hurt.
Ringo
Garry’s taken some of your things we didn’t sell to PAWS. I know you’ll be happy with that. You love your cats. We have three now – Daisy, Rascal and Sheldon (named after a character in The Big Bang Theory). I hope Ringo found his way to you.
I’ve been to Italy. We’d planned to go together, hadn’t we? To visit The Lakes. Have you been yet? I went to Umbria on a writing course. Sue Moorcroft, a name you know well, was the tutor, and Celia J Anderson, one of my wonderful Romaniac friends, who’s written Sweet Proposal, came too. The hosts at Arte Umbria are lovely. We were so well looked after, and the people I met there were warm, fascinating and funny – many laughs were had. I came home with a way forward with Follow Me, the book I started writing before you left, and a tan. Can you believe it? My usual ‘pale and interesting’ look has gone on vacation.
Laura, Sue & Celia at Arte Umbria July 2013
Sheffield was fantastic. That’s where the Romantic Novelists’ Association’s conference was held. It was a five hour drive, but I had my favourite music on, and the sun was shining. It was a weekend of learning and more laughing. I gave my first ever live interview. I couldn’t believe it. Now you’re really smiling. I know. Who’d have thought? The very lovely and very generous Miranda Dickinson invited me onto her vlog (video log, Mum), for a chat about my books. Yes. I did say books, in the plural. I’ll tell you about that later.
In March, the children, Garry, and I went to Florida for our first ever family holiday. Mum, it was fantastic. I’d like to live in Disneyworld – Hollywood Studios, in particular. The children loved it. We had a villa with a pool, a hire car and three weeks to visit the Disney parks, Universal Studios and NASA. I took over four hundred photos. Your grandson trained as a padawan, a young Jedi, your granddaughter tried every rollercoaster going, which was a huge breakthrough for the young lady who cringed just watching adverts about them, Garry enjoyed the driving and got us everywhere we needed to be, and I sung in The American Idol Experience and got through to the live show!
We returned home mid-April. I can’t believe it was three months ago.
When I attended the RNA Summer Party in May, and friends asked how the trip went, I realised, in the midst of conversation, it had been a life-changing holiday. I can’t put my finger on why, but I am now able to look forward more than back, and those occasions when I do peer over my shoulder, I’m able to raise a smile, not a tear.
Mostly.
Celia, Vanessa, Jan & Laura. 4/9 Romaniacs at Conference
The children are doing well. They are both high achievers and Garry and I are very proud of them. They talk about you often, and whenever we hear ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’, we look at one another and say, ‘Gran’s here.’
I’m growing my hair a little longer, and Garry’s keeping his shorter. It’s a wise decision. His IT business is going from strength-to-strength. That’s nothing to do with keeping his hair short. He’s working hard.
And I just want to mention Bro. He’s an excellent big brother.
Christmas was different without you. Quiet. Not that you were the noisy one. We missed you. My birthday was difficult, but Mother’s Day was okay. I thought I’d struggle, but Garry and the children made sure I had a good day.
Right then. Books. Well, I’ve been saving this bit of news until last. You could tell there was something, couldn’t you? You know me so well. That draft you read – Truth or Dare? – it’s going to be published, and do you know by whom? Choc Lit. Yes. Choc Lit. I know. Another name with which you are so familiar. I hope to dedicate the book to you. You’ll be in a novel, Mum. I’m busy finishing book two at the moment, ready to submit to the Taster Panel. Let’s hope they ask for seconds.
I’m so pleased we had our time together. I’m so glad I was able to share with you the pleasure my family, friends and writing bring me. I think about you every day, and often chat to you, but that’s okay, because I’m a writer and we do stuff like that all the time. I hope you’ve been having not just a good time, but a great one, Mum. I stayed up last night and watched the clock turn over to midnight. I wanted to be the first to wish you a happy birthday. It was raining, but I knew by the time I woke, the sun would be shining. I remember you saying it is always sunny on your birthday. As usual, you’re right; it’s beautiful here.
Well, I have to go now, I’ve books to write and whites to wash. I’ll raise a glass of Ribena in your honour, Mum.
Whilst on holiday, in Florida, I found myself on stage, singing in The American Idol Experience.
One minute, my family and I were enjoying the warmth and sunshine in Disney’s Hollywood Studios, the next I was positioned on a gold star, singing ‘One Way or Another’, to the first-line producer, a lovely lady, named Katrina. She asked me to sing ‘Black Velvet’, and then I chose a song from their list, ‘Hit Me With Your Best Shot’, and gave that a go. I was complimented on my rock voice and was put through to the next round.
I’m not new to singing, but I have rested my voice for nearly two years, due to ill-health, and like every muscle in the body, if you don’t use it, you lose it, and my vocal chords weren’t at their best. I was thrilled I still had enough there to impress Katrina.
Whilst waiting to audition to the second producer, I practised my two songs, sipped water in the green room, which was actually red, and renewed my Italian vowels. ‘Smile when you’re singing the eeee sound,’ my teacher would say.
Gently ushered into a smaller room, I took my place on another gold star, held the mic in my hand, and gave it my best shot. Well, Pat Benetar’s best shot, to be precise. It hit the spot, I was congratulated and told I was through to the live show later that day.
Now, for someone who was originally heading for the Star Tours attraction, I exited the Idol building with a certificate, my contestant number, and a time to return for a ‘fluff and puff’, which included hair, make-up and vocal coaching.
Sometime after five pm, standing in the clothes I’d put on first thing, hair shuzzed and cosmetic improvements made, I was on stage, in front of a live audience, doing one of my favourite things. Performing.
I saw my family, watching, willing me on, smiling, as they have done on so many occasions when I’ve been in competition, or gigging. I have always sung to my children – nursery rhymes, pop songs, musicals – from when they were first-born, and I was told it was an excellent way for them learn word patterns and rhythm. They are both musical. My son could sing before he could read, and was up on stage at the age of three, with me, singing Abba’s ‘Gimme Gimme Gimme’, and my daughter plays piano, and dances.
I love that they love music.
Well, if I had won and gone on to that evening’s final, I would have competed for the chance to enter the full-on, proper American Idol, as the prize for the over all winner was a dream ticket to participate in the TV show. As it turned out, I was to appear on stage just the once that day, but it was all good; my son was training to become a Padawan at 8pm, and I didn’t want to miss seeing him defeat Darth Vader.
When I attended the Romantic Novelists’ Association conference last summer, Julie Cohen ran an excellent workshop on the skills and techniques Disney Pixar employ when writing the stories for their films. I am moved by animated films. I cry when I watch Cars, and just last week, Toy Story 3, no matter how hard I fought, turned me into a blubbering wreck, much to the amusement of my son. My daughter consoled me by advising she cried upon first viewing.
We were watching it on the Disney Channel, in Orlando. We were having a holiday of a lifetime – my first ever with my children, my last trip abroad being my honeymoon to Italy in 1996.
Since I was a child, I dreamed of visiting DisneyWorld. I still have a 1973 Disney annual – actually, my daughter is now it’s owner, but I love that book.
I remember seeing images of Epcot on Blue Peter, hearing about friends who had dined with Mickey Mouse, and falling in love with the magic and beauty of the fairy castle that opened and completed every Disney film. I’ve had such a great time watching all the old movies with my children over the years. ‘Pete Pan, Pete Pan!’ my daughter would squeal. Fifteen times in one week we watched Peter, Wendy and the Lost Boys defeat Cap’n Hook. Even my son tells me if I don’t believe in fairies, one will die. Tink’s real in this house.
The funny thing is that at the 2012 RNA Conference, after Julie’s workshop, I collected a complimentary fortune cookie. I ate the biscuit, then unfolded the thin, white strip of paper, to reveal my fate. This is what it read: ‘All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.’Walt Disney. Coincidence that the man himself made a virtual appearance after I’d taken a workshop on story structure, with positive examples from Disney Pixar?
I’ve kept that slip of paper. It sits with my Romaniac business cards.
My dream to take my family to DisneyWorld came true.
Thank you, Julie, for sharing your knowledge, and thank you, Walt Disney, for showing me the strength of belief and commitment.
About Midsummer Dreams
