Sad Times

Sorry I’ve been quiet lately. Family events took over. My dear step-father went into hospital in October for a cancer operation. After three hospital stays and traumatic times at home, he finally died in hospital on 8 December. I was with him up until an hour before he died.

The funeral was yesterday. It was lovely. He would have loved meeting all of the people there. Along with his daughter, I stood and talked about my memories of him. He had been part of my life for twenty-two years. I’m still not quite sure how I did it, as I was very emotional.

Somehow in the middle of all this I managed to complete my NaNoWriMo challenge, writing 50,000 words in November. 

(The River Severn close to Mom and Step-dad's home - a view he would have seen daily)

Now it is time to turn my thoughts to Christmas and making sure that my mother is okay. It must be hard losing two husbands, but at least she had great men as her partners.

Sorry if this is a sad post, I’ll come back soon with some of my favourite books in 2012. I hope everyone is having a great run up to Christmas.

In Nanoworld

I’m living in nanoworld at the moment. I’m working on my latest manuscript “Written in the Coffee” and taking part in the annual NaNoWriMo challenge – National Novel Writing Month 2012. This means that I need to find constant stimulation for my plot and novel content.

 

As I drive my son to school, I am paying particular attention to the season changes so that it can be recreated in my book. I might notice a distinctive car and wonder whether my hero or heroine could drive it. I squirrel away colours, shapes, smells and the feelings they produce, so that I can write them down, often whilst still parked outside school.

My coffee in the supermarket becomes a research trip. The whole book is based around a café and the coffee, so I study my latte and I watch out for characters. I notice how people move, the expressions which cross their faces. I may even record snippets of dialogue I overhear. All to feed Nano.

If I am stuck with my plot, I resort to picking up random magazines in the supermarket. Turning to a page, I find a headline I can write from and off I go writing today’s 1,670 target words.

These stimulants are particularly important as I reach the inevitable stage in the manuscript where I am convinced that it is all rubbish and that no one would ever want to read it. I valiantly attempt to write through the doubt, hoping for a breakthrough.

At just over 21,000 words written this month (I already have 30,000 words on this story), I love my characters – Tobias, the failed architect, turned chocolatier and Becky, the psychic barista, but my plot has huge holes and leaps of faith.

At least I made myself laugh today. When I re-read what I had just typed, I had spelled wellies with an “i” instead of the “e”.

 

A little snippet from “Written in the Coffee”:-

Tobias was sat up still wrapped in the blankets.

She smiled at him. ‘Did you sleep well?’

‘Not bad, but I think I’ve cricked my neck.’

He moved his head in a circle and winced.

Becky tried not to look at the hairs on his chest, revealed when the blankets fell away.

‘You should have slept in the spare bed upstairs. It would have been much more comfortable.’

‘I needed to be downstairs. Just in case you had any unwanted visitors in the night.

‘My guard dog?’

‘Knight in shining armour please.’

Becky giggled. As far as she could ascertain he was only wearing his underpants. Her mind wandered off to what knights actually wore under their armour.

 

See if you can help me keep typing by telling me how you get through the periods of doubt with your manuscript?

A Poem for Remembrance Day

Remembrance Day

 

How would I feel if it were you?

My lovely healthy strong young son.

Yet if times were different

You would have no doubt gone

To foreign fields of death and pain.

Grown up quickly, become a man.

Seen things no sane person should have seen.

While I spent my time wondering if you were safe.

Knitting socks, raising funds,

Letting them melt my garden gate.

Dreading every letter or telegram.

I can cry at just the thought of it.

What if you had not come back?

No body to bury, no grave to tend.

Grieving but secretly not believing

My flesh and blood was really gone.

My precious one, my only son.

 

 

© Morton Gray

United by Remembrance

Walking down the road today, it was lovely to see how many people were wearing poppies. There were a fair number of cars and lorries sporting them too. It struck me that so many people from so many different walks of life are united by the simple act of buying and wearing a poppy.

One of my main pastimes is tracing family trees. In my own tree, both of my grandfathers were in reserved occupations for the second world war, but my own personal roll of honour includes:-

First World War

Alfred Beddows born 1881. 14^th Battalion Royal Welsh Fusiliers. Died 22 April 1918 the Somme. Buried Bouzincourt Ridge Cemetery, Somme, France.

 

 

Second World War

Cyril Hall born 1923. Mess Room Boy, SS Empire Airman (Merchant Navy). Died 21 September 1940. The ship was torpedoed by a U boat and sank. Thirty-three of the thirty-seven crew died, including Cyril, who was just 17.

So I would ask you to wear your poppy with pride.

Writers’ Outing

Sue Johnson, Heather King and I visited Croome Court, a National Trust property in Worcestershire last Friday. Even the shuttle bus seemed to know that we were writers.

 

Shuttle Bus

We were blessed with a lovely day. Heather King writes Regency novels and kept scribbling madly in her notebook about things like fan etiquette! Heather has just sold two novels, so look out for news of these here in the future – well done Heather.

 

 

Croome Church

 

Heather King and Sue Johnson

walking to Croome Court

 

We wandered around the house and grounds, had lunch, bought books and talked loads. It was a lovely uplifting day with lots of inspiration for future writing projects.

View across the park to Croome Court

 

Where have you visited lately which gave you writing inspiration?

Morton Gray – AWOL

I’ve been missing! My guilt at not posting on my blog is growing HUGE! Then I tell myself that everyone has times when everything seems a little overwhelming.

Step-Dad got through his cancer operation okay. My mother has found it hard, especially as she likes her space and my step-brother and step-sister have been staying with her. Why are the hospitals always so far away? No joke to be driving so far at nearly 80. Cue another guilt attack.

Hubbie is only having one evening meal a week at home at the moment with his punishing work schedule – which I suppose increases my work schedule too. Add in a few other family issues and my blog has not got written.

 

On the positive side, in a bid to avoid a couple of return journeys from school, last week I tried driving to the Park and Ride close to school and spent the day in The Hive at Worcester. This is the new library, archives and hub building in Worcester which has a strange gold roof. The Park and Ride was fantastic – I’d already written three character studies by the time they dropped me off. I found a table in The Hive with a view of the moon and the Malverns and edited non-stop for two hours. Lunch in one of my favourite cafés The Ginger Pig and then back for another two hours solid editing. A thoroughly successful day and one I hope to repeat often.

I have come to the conclusion that I will edit more successfully away from home as there are less distractions. Does this work for you too?

Making the most of every day

We had a wonderful weekend. Saturday morning found us striding around Attingham Park in Shropshire. We even had a close encounter with some deer. I’ve often seen them in the distance at Attingham, but never this close.

Hubbie then headed for Chirk Castle. I had forgotten the breath-taking view and the glorious gardens. This year I have seen much fewer bees and butterflies, now I know why – they were all at Chirk. Who can blame them, it is a wonderful place.

 

On Sunday morning we went walking in the Wyre Forest. The weekend weather was perfect and I enjoyed the simple days with my family.

It reminded me of some lines from one of my favourite poets David Whyte:-

“this is the good day
you could
meet your love,
this is the black day
someone close
to you could die.

This is the day
you realise
how easily the thread
is broken
between this world
and the next”

Extract from The House of Belonging by David Whyte.

My step-father is being investigated for a suspicious tumour. The church organist from my mother's church literally dropped dead last week. These events remind me of the importance of these family weekends and of “striding out” whenever we can.

Promise me that this week you will do something you have meant to do for a long time and then tell me about it in the comments below.