A lovely poem for Sunday…
solitude
locked behind open doors
the sun sets upon my soul
shadows move along stoic walls
I inhale breathless poetry
encouraging a cage to open
releasing silent misery
wrapped in solitude
the silence echoes
when I whisper your name
What I said back in 2015 is still relevant!!!
I’m still engaged in working out chapter two of my new science fiction novel The Guardian. Because I need some more serious thinking time to solve a particular problem, specifically how I go about introducing more characters, how many, and the gender ratio, I thought I might say something about a few things that tend to happen when we write, and some which get overused, not just by newbie writers I might add. A lot of what I’m about to say, I’ve said in previous posts. For my long time followers, please bear with me. This is mainly for any and all newcomers to my blog with dreams of one day becoming a published writer.
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Some of the novels and novellas by first time writer’s I have read recently, seem to rely solely on descriptive prose, while others believe that narrative and nothing else is all you need to…
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More from our man in Beetley…
Are there times when you wish that you had done something different? Or times when you regret doing something that has affected you ever since? I know that both apply to me. I wonder if this will provoke thoughts or feelings in some readers? If so, please add your own examples in the comments.
There are times…when I wish that I had gone to university. I have no way of knowing if that would have made my life turn out any differently to what it is now. But I could have gone, and at the time it would have been free of charge too. I should have gone, and perhaps studied one of my passions.
There are times…when I wonder what it might have been like to have had children. Not that it is something I have ever regretted, I assure you. But I have wondered.
There are…
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More from our lovely Steph 😉 x
That sacred Closet when you sweep —
Entitled “Memory” —
Select a reverential Broom —
And do it silently.‘Twill be a Labor of surprise —
Besides Identity
Of other Interlocutors
A probability —August the Dust of that Domain —
Unchallenged — let it lie —
You cannot supersede itself
But it can silence you — (Emily Dickinson)
Every year, on the 27th of January the world observes the Holocaust Memorial Day. On that day we are called to remember how far can the folly and cruelty of man can go. We must remember; and teach our children that the privilege of being born in such a long time of peace and wealth, at least in this part of the hemisphere, is not for granted, it may not last forever as those dangers are always behind the corner. Peace must be defended by any attack ignorance and arrogance may…
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With Trump doing his damnedest to cause trouble with Iran, read this…
I’m betting that the majority of the eight hundred and forty seven people who follow this blog won’t even bother to read this, let alone comment. Some may even stop following it considering this post’s content, especially woolly headed bleeding heart liberals, who prefer to bury their heads in the sand. Or the shoot first brigade. So be it!
Ever since the West redrew the boundaries in the Middle East at the end of World War One to create a homeland for the Jewish nation inPalestine, we have continued to meddle in that part of the world.
While in recent years we in the West abhor what both Muammar Gadaffi and Saddam Hussein did in their respective countries, and the Middle East at large, there is no getting way from the fact that together with the one remaining strongman, Syria’s Bashar al-Assad, at least they kept a lid…
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More from Lucy 😉
Many of you will know Paul Butterworth as our own, dear Head Porter. You may even recognise him from both the big and small screen in The Full Monty, Frank, Doctors and – perhaps most impressively of all – the Country Life Butter advert with John Lydon. Here he is, in his own words…
It all started after a particularly smelly biology lesson when we had been dissecting a rat, in those days schools bred their own rats for A level dissection. The chemistry lesson when we secretly made some liquid concoction that would explode on contact when dry was fun as the teacher skipped about the classroom… but what really did it was pulling apart a daffodil.
In one of those revelatory moments it suddenly became clear in my 17 year old befuddled brain that I’d much rather be reciting Wordsworth’s…
I wandered lonely as a cloud
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I know, I know – more advice for you…
…just endlessly rediscovered!!!
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With the simple fact that these days your book will have an upward struggle to be seen on Amazon, considering there are slightly over 38 million other books there already, each one vying for your attention. Does the product of all your hard work stand a chance? One thing is blindingly obvious. It must be an attention grabber, and I’m not talking about the cover!!!
There was a time when I used to write several thousand words per day. In fact I subscribed to the idea that unless I wrote at least five thousand words a day, I wasn’t really writing, merely dawdling. Oh how wrong I was! These days I barely write two hundred words in one day.
Why?
Simple – I spend the rest of the day and the one after, even the one after that, endlessly checking each word, often substituting a far…
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