Tag: writer

Birthdays and Parties.

Today would have been my mother’s birthday. Having lost her earlier this year, I wasn’t sure how I would react. It was strange not to have bought a present and a card, although I still wished her a Happy Birthday.

I stayed up until midnight to do so.

At noon, our family enjoyed a lovely lunch at the place Mum and I used to go, then we strolled on the hot sand, where the children played on the swinging boats and bounced on the trampolines, and finally, to wrap up the day, we visited a local dairy farm where the best ice cream is produced. I had honeycomb. I recall Mum had that when we were last there. Then as now, the weather was beautiful.

I suspect my mother had something to do with that.

Mum was extremely supportive of my writing efforts and was pleased I had found a nuturing and friendly group within which to learn the craft. Something she was happy for me to do was attend the RNA Conference in Penrith.

The Romantic Novelists’ Association Conference 2012 was my first.

I joined six of my fellow Romaniacs, and met writers with whom I’ve previously interacted via the internet or with whom I had become acquainted at one of the RNA parties. The Conference was sociable, friendly and fun, with a great kitchen party on the Friday night.  I’m pleased to say singing was involved.

Study was involved too, with trade panels and workshops on all nature of writerly things, and I made two pitches to top editors. Once home, it took three days to absorb everything that had happened. Now I realise I have to get my head down and finish book two.  Oh. And find an agent.

That will be down to me.

Laura x

Trying Something New.

I have spent the past couple of days trying my hand at developing a synopsis before having written the story. I have not tried this before, but I understand it is common practice amongst many writers.

Currently, I am 60,000 words into the first draft of my work in progress and until last night, I had no clue as to how the story would end. I took my ‘Keep Calm and Eat Chocolate’ notebook, my trusty purple pen and Sarah Duncan’s advice, and started writing a series of  ‘And then’, uncertain where my scribblings would lead.

In a few hours, spread over two days, I noted down what I considered to be the relevant points of the story. I took the synopsis as far as I could – a fraction over half way, but with a need to finish it, I had to decide on how to end the story. I took the radical move of making it up as I went along, resulting in a few pages of rubbish.

And it was rubbish.

But I was getting words onto the sheet.

Yesterday, I reread my notes. They were wishy-washy, there was very little structure, the chronology, like a time machine, was all over the place, and the final part, like me without a map, had no direction whatsoever, but this made me happy. I had a starting point and I knew what improvements had to be made.

This time, I took a different, larger notebook and settled down to transcribe from the smaller pad. I refined the relevant points, put the events in the correct order, discovered exactly who my characters are and what made them that way and…fanfare please…found my ending. I was so pleased, I announced it to Gajitman, who, bless him, stopped racing in the Alps, put down the controller and listened to me.

I have a real sense of where I’m going with this WIP now.

It seems developing the synopsis before writing the story, works. It totally focuses one’s mind, too.

Which comes first for you? The story of the synopsis?

Laura x

Seasons in the Sun

It’s June, it’s raining and it’s summer. And I missed spring.

The beautiful season of renewal and new beginnings bypassed me as I dealt with the loss of my mother – emotionally and physically.

I say dealt, but I’m still shuffling some of those cards. They’ve not all yet made it to the table.

This last fortnight, I have been sorting and clearing my mum’s house and have spent many hours being reminded of times past or discovering little gems of information I never knew. Some of it made me cry, plenty made me smile and one or two things made me exclaim ‘Mum!’. All of it helped me understand more about myself. It turns out, I’m more like my mother than I realised. That’s a good thing.

That’s a wonderful thing.

Life is a little less perfect without Mum in it, but my family and I are focussing on a positive future, whilst learning how to remember the good times with a smile and not a tear.

Here comes the sun.

Laura x

Beg For Rain

Beg For Rain.

Tears are the betrayers of our souls. We can fight and we can turn away, but once they pierce the backs of our eyes, we cannot halt them.

Relentlessly, they come.

Tears have a will of their own. They are strong and will grip our throats and strangle us until we are forced to release them.

Powerfully, they come.

 

Tears will sell our secrets, flaunt our vulnerability and make easy fools of us.

So, with all this said, why don’t

They come?

 

Tears.

Bless-ed tears.

Let them rain down and wash me away.

Let the water sanitise, let their salt sterilise and

Let me be clean.

 

Please come.

 

Laura.