Author: kepagewriter

I am a writer of literary fiction. My first novel Shattered Reflections will be out in the next couple of months and available through Amazon and Kindle. I am currently working on my second novel.

Chris Fey’s 30 day writing challenge Day 3 – if you could go on vacation anywhere in the world, where would you go.

On By kepagewriterIn 30 Day Writing Challenge, My Writing2 Comments

Day three of Chrys Fey’s 30 day writing challenge. This wasn’t an easy challenge for me. My writing tends to be quite internal- relating to thoughts and feelings – rather than description of external things. Even when I write third person, it tends to be from a character’s viewpoint so I don’t often write straight description but here goes….
I picked somewhere cold because the heat doesn’t really attract me. Even though the description isn’t particularly pleasant, I would really like to visit somewhere really cold.

The air was sharp, lethal almost. It managed to hurt, as if it were solid somehow. The effect on the body was instant. Eyes streaming and nostrils twitching, trying to retract. Ribs ached. If there were any fingers foolish enough not to ensconced in gloves, they were quickly attacked with vigour by the wind until they were red and numb, not to mention completely useless to their owner.
From the cliffs to the sea, there was a thick blanket of snow as yet untrodden. White so pure and clear that it hurt to look at it. Even with sunglasses, the glare was still painful. The light bounced back from the snow with a determination to blind. It was difficult to spot where the sea began from a distance.
The crunch of the snow under the first feet was the real start of winter. The innocence of the snow broken again by human feet. The foot slid through the deep snow so that it was more a foot hole than a foot print. The foot needed to be pulled out before the next one could be attempted. Progress to the water’s edge was slow. The trail of footprints stands out in the unblemished scene like a scar across the landscape. As if the snow was wounded.
At the water’s edge, the silence suddenly becomes apparent. If this was a summer’s day, there would be the waves lapping and the gulls shrieking but today, it is quiet. There is the occasional howl of wind and the odd creak as the ice stretches itself. Inhuman noises that suggested emptiness, cold, death even.

Day 2 – 30 day writing challenge – Pick a book at random and use the opening line

On By kepagewriterIn 30 Day Writing Challenge1 Comment 
Day 2 - from Chrys Fey's 30 day writing challenge. 
Open a book at random and pick a line. Use that line as the
beginning of your piece and continue writing from where it 
leaves off. Pen the first thoughts that come to mind and don’t
revise it.

(The opening line is from Life Before Man by Margaret Atwood.)

Her parents thought she was becoming too wrapped up in these 
things and tried to give her dancing lessons to make her more
sociable. 
More sociable? In what way would being in a room full of sweaty
girls make her more likely to speak to any of them. Probably some
sort of leotard would be required. She had no desire to have flesh
on display. The more flesh on display, the more tongue tied. That
was an obvious correlation.
She didn't really understand why they were so concerned. She would
speak to them if she thought it was worth it but it clearly wasn't.
None of them were as interesting as the people in the books she read. 
None of them came close to the people she could imagine. They must
exist somewhere other than in her head. Well, even if they didn't 
she liked creating a world where they did.

Chrys Fey’s 30 day Writing Challenge – Start a story with Once Upon a Time

On By kepagewriterIn 30 Day Writing Challenge, My Writing1 Comment

First off, before the story, an apology. As ever, life is hectic and when I posted that I was starting this challenge I really thought I’d be able to do it the next day. Due to circumstances beyond my control, it has taken over a week to get this to you. This is the first challenge of Chrys Fey’s 30 day writing challenge. Hopefully the next one will be quicker but on her website it does say that you don’t have to do one every day which, given my busy life, is just as well.

Start a story with Once Upon A Time. 

Once upon a time….

There was a princess called Lucinda that lived in a big castle. I know, that’s not unusual for princesses but she really didn’t like living there. It was dull and cold and too big. Sometimes she thought her entire family could leave and she wouldn’t even know. The worst thing about that was the fact that it wouldn’t surprise her if they did go. And it was likely they would leave her behind.

The castle had big towers that filled the princess with foreboding although she wasn’t sure why. She just knew that when she was on her way to princess school and she looked back; she shuddered involuntarily when she saw them. There was one at each corner, tall and proud with only the one window at the very top. She didn’t like them any better when she drove back from school and they seemed to stare down at her, one cold dark eye each. It made her skin cold all over.

The school wasn’t much better. It was grey and imposing with the same stark towers on the corners. Perhaps, she mused, they would be frightened into behaving as they were supposed to. It was true that no one seemed to step out of line so maybe it worked. They all trooped into the classroom and sat at their desks and learned the many things that princesses needed to now. Like how to be radiant. Or how to talk down to your subjects. The princess wanted to ask about the towers. Questions like why are they so tall. Questions like what happened at the top with the one eyelike window. Once you got in, she reasoned, you would not get out. But she didn’t ask. It was unspoken that the towers suggested punishment. And they were all good girls really. Even Princess Lucinda.

It was hard enough for Lucinda. She knew she didn’t really fit in. The other princesses were pink. They were flouncy. Lacy. Well, so was she. That was the uniform. But she didn’t like it. The dresses got in her way and when she sat down; they could always see her underclothes no matter how careful she was. She had failed that this year. Ladylike posture. It just didn’t come naturally. She looked on with envy as the others stuck their little fingers out when they picked up their cups and when they moved slowly and elegantly across the room in their sharp healed pointy shoes.  

Their hair was bouncy. Her hair refused to do that. She had asked to have it cut short but they would not let her. Instead, it tangled itself into knots or unravelled from however it was supposed to be. And she couldn’t stay clean. The other princesses sat and waited for things to be brought to them, for things to happen. She wanted to go and find things. Although most of the time, the only things that she found were dirt and the corners of tables that were intent on ripping skirts and tearing lace.

There was a lot at stake of course. If they didn’t pass all levels of princessing, then they’d never get a prince and go on to have lots of other little princes and princesses. The thought of marrying a prince filled Lucinda with nearly as much horror as the thought of the tower. What a choice! She supposed it would be different with real babies but when they had to practise with the dolls, well, she genuinely couldn’t see the point. All the others cooing and exclaiming and dressing the dolls up. She wasn’t sure what it was but there had to be something better than this.

So that is what they were doing, they were still waiting. For their prince to come. Lucinda sniggered but they were far too delicate to think such vulgar thoughts. They knew that you had to be to snag a prince and sniggering didn’t really figure. Probably, Lucinda reflected, it gave you wrinkles and that was tragedy beyond measure. They spent long hours shaping their nails and curling or straightening their hair depending on what the fashionistas said. Then there was the rubbing on of creams. She looked at them and thought how they all looked the same.

They all had that careful voice, as well, not too loud, not too quiet. The exact right tone. She couldn’t manage that either. Too loud. When she laughed, not only did it come out in guffaws but also her whole body joined in. They tittered carefully behind their hands when that happened although she had no doubt that nasty little thoughts existed behind those careful eyes. She almost hoped they did. At least that would make them interesting.

The princes were equally boring. All vying for position. All carefully styled, of course. Perfectly clothed. That was the problem. Nothing wrong with them. She was fed up with feeling less than perfect. They talked about themselves constantly. The whine of them contrasted horribly with the giggling from the princesses. They were all handsome and that struck Lucinda as odd. Surely they couldn’t all be. What happened if a less than perfect baby was born? Were they sent to some lesser family where it mattered less if you were beautiful? Another question she would never ask.

It was not like Lucinda to be early. Things eluded her. The things needed for school that day, for example. So often, they’d have to turn back and get a servant to run and find some book or other or some homework she had forgotten. Sometimes she’d realise that she had odd shoes on. This morning had run smoothly. She was the first one into their classroom. Or so she thought

She was trying to decide what to do with this small piece of freedom when she heard a noise from the cupboard at the back of the classroom. She knew what she was supposed to do. Scream and then run. Alert the nearest male. Lucinda had no intention of behaving in such a princessy way. How very tedious. She wasn’t frightened, she was intrigued. With a delicacy that usually eluded her, she moved quietly towards the cupboard. The noises – rustles and swishes – made her think of a small animal. No threat.

She paused briefly to make sure she was ready and then she yanked the door open. She couldn’t believe her eyes. One of the princes. In there, among their clothes. Lucinda tried to recall his name. She knew she had seen him before. With the others but they came as one mass. They were the princes. She didn’t try to pick them apart. Then she tried to recall what it was that was different about him. He was slim, slight. Probably the smallest of the princes. But it wasn’t that. It was something that she couldn’t quite place. A delicacy perhaps. It was hard to see him rescuing or duelling or any of those things the princes learned about. Lucinda realised that she quite liked that about him. That and the fact he looked more frightened of her than she felt of him.

“What are you doing in there?” She asked with as much authority as she could muster. There was a pause and Lucinda thought the prince might cry. That wasn’t allowed. Boys don’t cry. She was ready to put her arms around him though, if she should need to. But instead, he spoke. The same thing that Lucinda couldn’t quite grasp about his body was wrong with his voice. It was smooth and had none of the depth that the other princes aimed for. It was soft like silk. Lucinda felt it rub over her skin.

“I picked up my sister’s bag by mistake. I was just leaving it for her.” That sounded fair. Lucinda wished she had a brother that would be so helpful but they were all hateful.

“You probably should go.” He nodded his head. After all, the princes were not allowed in here and perhaps, he knew that the towers were for punishment as well. She couldn’t imagine that he found being a prince very straightforward.

As she watched him leave – his steps were small and dainty – she thought he moved more like one of them. More like a girl. She felt sorry for him. He was as out of place as she was. He turned just before he left. Smiled.

“My name is Sam.” He said. Samuel, thought Lucinda. She would not forget.

“Lucinda.” She hadn’t realised until that moment, how much she had hated her name. It was clunky and awkward. Well, it suited her; you had to agree with that.

Lucinda thought about Sam a lot. She called him the prince of the cupboard. In her head, anyway. For once, that lunchtime, she sat with the others while they giggled over their possible future husbands. Some of them had been promised to princes already. Providing they got the right grades at princessing, of course. Quietly, she asked if any of them knew anything about Sam. They seemed surprised to see her and hear her but they soon recovered.

“Trust you,” said Marianna, “To notice a fellow freak.” Lucinda realised that it was true. That was what was so similar about them. They were all wrong for the role. The others all laughed and she moved back to her lone seat. The prince of the cupboard was wrong in all the ways that made him right for her.

Weeks passed and Lucinda made an effort to make it into school early but she never saw the prince of the cupboard in their room again. It disappointed her every time. She began to think that she would never be able to speak to him again. Not that it would matter anyway. Not when she was going to fail her princessing exams. What happened then? No one wanted to say but she felt the presence of the tower whenever they spoke about it. A lot of good it would do her. Sam didn’t look like the rescuing type. She pictured herself looking out of that one window. That small square her only view.

It was soon to be the end of term ball. Lucinda always hated it. They didn’t pick her to dance. Or if they did, they didn’t do so again after she had trodden on them or elbowed them of in some way or other injured them. These days her reputation went before her so she stood on the sidelines and watched them glide effortlessly around the dance floor. She wished she had the grace to do so herself. It was a strange feeling, to want something she so thoroughly hated but it would be easier, fitting in. Easier than standing watching everyone else enjoying their life. Okay so they were thoughtless but maybe that was better.

This time she tried really hard to stay clean and tidy by sitting in one place before they had to leave and even her mother was impressed that she hadn’t managed to mess up her hair. She was wearing her best dress. (The most expensive one not the one she liked the best. She liked none of them but trousers were not allowed.) She wanted Sam to think she was beautiful. She assumed that he would like this perfect version. It was what all the princes wanted. That was the whole point.

So she giggled not sniggered. She wiggled not stomped. She hid her face behind her hand. She was that shy, sweet girl. A couple of the princesses asked if she was feeling okay. She said she was although it was a lie. She had never felt worse. She was pretending to be what they wanted her to be. What he wanted her to be. Not even that. What she thought he wanted her to be. It was difficult but he was the prize. It had to be worth it.

It was the opinion of the princes that the ball was really for the girls. They had to be there and they had to dance but it was not their thing. Jousting and archery and sports that was their thing. But they had to be impressive and to be impressive, you had to be there. So mostly, they came and stood and watched and decided who was the prettiest. They fought to be the one who danced with the prettiest. They looked at Lucinda and sniggered at the way she giggled, at the way she wiggled. She might be trying but she lacked grace. She lacked feminine charm. She was still a little scary. The princes were taught what the princesses would do and that was fine. None of them was really bright enough to work out someone who did not follow the pattern.

Sam watched her carefully. He patted down his own clothes. They would probably suit Lucinda as well. Maybe he should share with her the secret of his success. He supposed it was probably too late. Watching her, trying so hard, it was heart breaking and Sam knew his heart was already soft with feeling for her. He wasn’t sure what he should do.

She was more like him than she realised. He had to find some way of letting her know that. He thought he’d seen recognition in her eyes, that day she had caught him changing his clothes but she had easily bought the lie he told so maybe she was clueless. Maybe she thought him just like all the rest, hence the terrible trying to fit the role

He couldn’t remember the first time now. Just that it was a long time ago. Long enough that he had abandoned all thoughts of femininity. Even in his own head. Every time though, he felt that small thrill of it being right and proper even though everyone else thought it wrong. He had to be at school early to ensure no one saw him arrive, stay late so he could change again before home. Now, at home, in girl clothes, that was when it was odd and opposite.

“May I have this dance?” Sam looked up and there was Lucinda. His heart pounded unsteadily. She must have grown bored with waiting. Sam had decided that there would be no dancing for him tonight. He was too small and too nervous and he feared whoever he chose would just laugh. He grinned at the way everyone was staring. He hadn’t been concentrating or he would have seen the entire hall come to a stop.

“Of course.” He said, taking her hand. She let her hand sit on Sam’s waist, gently ran her hand over the hip. She noted the curve and nodded.

“You’re just like me.” She said. “Just like me.” She emphasized each word and Sam was glad she had figured it out.

“Do you think we’ll be able to live happily ever after?” She asked. Nobody else seemed to have figured it out and as far as she could tell, no one else wanted either of them. Her own mother would be pleased just to see her married.

“Oh, I think so.” Sam said grinning. They were floating across the dance floor now and much to everyone’s amazement, they moved well. They fitted together. Lucinda grinned as well. She was thinking about the lack of towers in the future and how it pleased her immensely.

30 day writing challenge

On By kepagewriterIn 30 Day Writing Challenge, My Writing2 Comments

As I have definitely finished the Eclectic Reader Challenge and I am not about to try and read another twelve books in the next 3 months, I thought I’d try and find a new blogging challenge.
I really wanted it to be a writing challenge. I’m still in the throws of editing Choose Yr Future and so I am not writing much new stuff. I must admit that this is starting to get on my nerves. Not that I want to start a new big project until Choose Yr Future is in a better state but I did want to be writing something.

I started by following some of the challenges on Readwave which is a great site for sharing writing and reading great stories. The challenges are fun and short and encourage you to write in different styles. The most recent story How To Murder Your Partner and Get Away With It made the staff picks section so that was pleasing.

Then I happened upon the 30 day writing challenge on Chrys Fey’s excellent website and it seemed perfect. Small challenges that give me something specific to think about and help flex your writing muscles a bit.

Here is the list of the challenges. First one to follow in the next couple of days.

1. Start a piece with: “Once upon a time…”
2.  Open a book at random and pick a line. Use that line as the beginning of your piece and continue writing from where it leaves off. Pen the first thoughts that come to mind and don’t revise it.
3.  If you could go on a vacation anywhere in the world, where would you go? Use vivid details and prose to describe the experience you would like to have.
4.  Create a character off the top of your head and write a short history about him/her.
5.   Write about a dream or nightmare that you’ve had. Turn it into a short-short story.
6.   Start a piece with: “I am standing at my kitchen window…” (Be creative! Make the piece fit a specific genre such as mystery, horror, romance, etc.)
7.   What is your favorite season? Use vivid details and even include memories you have of that season.
8.   Pick the title of one of your favorite songs and write a piece about it. Give the lyrics meaning by creating a story for it.
9.  You’re sitting in a coffee shop when you look up and see _______. Write a fictional piece about what would happen if you saw a celebrity in a coffee shop. (Humorous/suspenseful)
10.  Find something that you wrote a long time ago (published or unpublished) and rewrite the beginning. Give it a different tone.
11.   Write a short nonfiction piece about your first job.
12. Turn someone you know and love into a character. Write about them. Give them a fictional life.
13.   Describe your dream home as if you are living in it now.
14.   Recreate the sentence: “It was a dark and stormy night.” Expand it into a paragraph or two if you are so moved.
15.   Write about a memory from your childhood. Good or bad. Give it new life and  insight.
16.   The next time you are eating, write about the food on your plate or in your bowl. Describe every  portion. And as you are eating, write about all the tastes on your tongue.
17.   What is your favorite holiday? Write a short-short about a character experiencing that holiday and everything you associate with it.
18.   Think of your favorite book growing up. Use the title as inspiration for your next piece. What do you imagine when you read that title? Write a poem or a paragraph.
19.   What were you like as a child? Describe little you as you would a character in a book.
20.   What is your sun sign? (Gemini, Virgo) Use your sign as inspiration for a character  (protagonist or antagonist) or setting (world or made-up town).
21.   Go outside. Sit on the porch, in the garden, or at the beach, and write about nature.
22.   Create a past life for yourself. Who were you? What did you do?
23.   Write a journal entry for your favorite fictional character.
24.   If you went on a road trip or cruise, describe the experience you would like to have and places you’d like to see.
25.   Theme: Water (Write anything that comes to mind involving water.)
26.   What do you imagine the future will be like? Write a short science fiction piece.
27.  What is your favorite fairy tale? Give it a new ending.
28.    What are you like now? Describe yourself as if you were a character in one of your books.
29.   End a piece with: “But that wasn’t the end.”
30.   Write a letter to your muse. (Dear Muse,)

 

The end of the Eclectic Reader Challenge 2013 – really, it is the end this time.

On By kepagewriterIn Updates and information2 Comments

So, I have finished another twelve books for The Eclectic Reader Challenge. And it has been very enjoyable and made me read things I wouldn’t normally which I guess is the point. And I’m definitely not going to do it again this time but I’m glad I did it twice as it meant I explored genres even more closely then I would have done.

It’s hard to pick a favourite genre because often one of the books I read for a genre was great but the other not so good. I enjoyed both the books I read for GLBT very much so that was definitely a winner. I would say that Romantic Suspense is my least favourite genre but I did discover a writer I really enjoyed in Josh Lanyon and have since read another of his books so I can’t really complain about it.

I will definitely take part in the challenge next year as I have really enjoyed changing my reading habits and discovering new and interesting authors.

Here is a list of what I read in each category and the rating I gave them on Goodreads and you can judge for yourself which I enjoyed the most.

  1. Translated fiction – The Prague Cemetery – Umberto Eco 3/5, Venus in Furs – Leopold von Sacher-Masoch 3/5
  2. Historical mystery – The Moonstone -Wilkie Collins 4/5, A Test of Wills – Charles Todd 3/5
  3. Romantic suspense – Come Unto These Yellow Sands – Josh Lanyon 4/5, Awaken – Katie Kacvinsky 3/5
  4. Made into a movie – The Virgin Suicides – Jeffrey Eugenides 4/5, Election – Tom Perrotta 2/5
  5. New Adult – The Hunger Games – Suzanne Collins 4/5, The Perks of Being a Wallflower – Stephen Chbosky 4/5
  6. Urban Fantasy – Stardust – Neil Gaiman 3/5, Something Wicked This Way Comes – Ray Bradbury 4/5
  7. Dystopian – The Testament of Jessie Lamb – Jane Rogers 3/5, The Road – Cormac McCarthy 5/5
  8. Memoir – Girl Interrupted – Suzanna Kaysen 4/5, It’s Only A Movie -Mark Kermode 5/5
  9. LGBT – The City and The Pillar – Gore Vidal 5/5, Rent Boy – Gary Indiana 4/5
  10. Action Adventure – The Zombie Room – R.D. Ronald 2/5, The Lost World – Arthur Conan Doyle 3/5
  11. Humour – A Walk in the World – Bill Bryson 4/5, I Can Make You Hate – Charlie Brooker 5/5
  12. Published in 2013 Levels of Life – Julian Barnes 5/5, The Painted Girls – Cathy Marie Buchanan 3/5

Eclectic Reader Challenge – Published in 2013 – The Painted Girls – Cathy Marie Buchanan

On By kepagewriterIn Eclectic Reader Challenge2 Comments

I wasn’t really sure what to read for this category as, in terms of genre, it could be anything really. The last book I read for this category was Levels of Life by Julian Barnes so I knew I didn’t want it to be a memoir. I came across The Painted Girls on a Goodreads search and decided it was suitably different from everything else I had read for the Eclectic Reader Challenge.

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It took me a while to read it, partly because it was the summer and I was not travelling to work every day, partly because it took me a while to get into it. The novel tells the story of the van Goethem girls in Belle Epoque Paris. Marie, the middle daughter, models for Degas’ Little Dancer Aged Fourteen in order to gain extra money for a family permanently poverty stricken, while also dancing and aiming for the stars. However, life is not ready to carry her in this direction.

There has been much praise for this novel and it does have some good features. I liked the interspersing of newspaper articles and scientific treaties with the girls’ narratives, along with reviews of the art shows where Little Dancer is shown. This helps to give a period feel and added to the oppressive atmosphere. Also, reference to the ‘science’ of physiognomy – whereby it was judged you could tell what a person was like from their features – that was popular at the time, adds to the narrative as Marie is fearful that her own features make her a potential criminal and helps to contribute to her downfall.

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Less successful, I feel, were depictions of Antoinette’s relationship with Emile Abadie which end with her prostituting herself in order to raise money to follow him when he is shipped off to New Caledonia. Emile is a brute – and a bit of a characiture, if you ask me -and even after he has been implicated in two murders, Antoinette still protests his innocence and dreams of her perfect future. When she does eventually realise the truth, her change of heart was equally unconvincing. 

Some reviews of The Painted Girls on Amazon complained that it was too depressing. Now, I am ready to admit that I am a miserablist and quite enjoy reading things that are considered depressing. Life would have been tough for the sisters and with the mention of Zola and L’Assommoir, the reader is given a clue to the downward trajectory of the girls’ lives. However, Buchanan moves away from the naturalist aspirations of Zola. Marie wonders why the heroine of L’Assommoir is fated by her lowly beginnings and it seems to me that Buchanan wished to give the sisters a different fate. However, for me, the happy ending seems a little too pat, a little unlikely.

Maybe it is just my lack of romance. I know I would have been happier had the ending been less so. In the end, I found that the narrative highs and lows were equally unconvincing. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t hate this book but I didn’t love it as much as I thought I would. The descriptions of the ballet and of Marie modelling for Degas show exactly how tough the ballet world was and are perhaps my favourite part of this novel. Unfortunately other events were neither as touching or as well-written. 

The Editing Balancing Act

On By kepagewriterIn My WritingLeave a comment

Editing of Choose Yr Future is going well. Well, I think it is. Well, it’s going anyway. I seem to be adding as much as I am subtracting which is a little annoying as the main aim in editing was removing flabby, unnecessary detail (at 144000 words, I was hoping to trim it down a bit. Which I am doing but who can tell whether what is added now will be deemed excess weight next time.

This is the balancing act of editing well. Taking the garden shears to your prose can be extremely satisfying and I have been groaning inwardly at some of the more flowery sentences. But even as I’m wielding, I wonder am I taking it too far. Perhaps it will die, unable to sprout anew. So I find myself adding new shoots here and there. To balance it out, you know.

This is the part of editing that is difficult – how do you know that you are making the right choices. Of course, nothing is deleted permanently. I studiously keep every copy. When I go through the printed out pages and make alterations, sometimes by the time I go to make those changes on the computer, I have changed my mind again. Either to leave it as it was or do something different again.

A lot of these changes sort themselves out. This will not be the last edit by any means. And then there will be beta readers and professional editors and hopefully eventually something publishable will emerge. It’s a long road but at least I am making progress along it.

 

 

 

Reading Habits

On By kepagewriterIn CultureLeave a comment

I was looking for inspiration by looking through old posts and I realised that I had resolved to read more female authors this year. That was after I only read 5 female authors out of 31 books. This seemed a low percentage. Hence the resolution. However, I had forgotten so I haven’t particularly been making an effort. I went straight to Goodreads to see how many I had read.

It wasn’t good. I have read 42 books so far and 5 of them were by female authors. (It’ll be 6 when I’ve finished the current read, The Painted Girls.) So even less than last year. Interestingly, two of those were academic books – The Female Malady by Elaine Showalter and Delusions of Gender by Cordelia Fine. But in terms of fiction, the men are winning hands down.

The question is whether this really means anything. I think of myself as a feminist but does the fact that I read so many male authors mean that I subconsciously think that male writers are better. It isn’t something I really think about when choosing a book – whether the author is male or female. It neither encourages me or the opposite.

Perhaps it is a question of identification. I’ve always been quite tomboyish (if that is still an appropriate term when you are nearly 41.) I’ve probably a lot more in common with the narrator from Nick Hornby’s High Fidelity than with Fielding’s Bridget Jones. I don’t really like girly things and the women that I do read – Atwood, Barker, Carter, Atkinson – aren’t really girly either.

Nevertheless, I will try for the last few months of the year to read more female authors. I’ve a Susan Hill I’ve been meaning to read and, of course, the new Atwood will have to be bought. That’s at least another two.

Blog Post No. 101

On By kepagewriterIn My Writing2 Comments

Okay so really this should have been written for the post before. 100 posts. Nice and Neat. But I wasn’t concentrating and so didn’t realise I had written 100 posts until after I wrote the previous post.

Anyway, this is my 101st post. It is a milestone, I guess and seems quite surprising as I can’t even begin to recall what I might have written for a 100 different posts. I would have imagined that it would have taken longer to reach what seems like quite a high number although in reality it has involved blogging little more than twice a week.

I would like to say thank you to all the people who follow the blog and who take the trouble to comment or to like my posts. It is always a surprise to me that people might find the random things I have to say interesting and I still get excited about each new comment and like.

I’m look forward to the future and writing the next 100 posts. Thanks again for reading.

 

The Best Laid Plans…

On By kepagewriterIn My Writing, Updates and informationLeave a comment

At the beginning of the summer I posted that I was going to have a busy and productive month or so, writing and job hunting. I guess I should have known better than to make my plans public as the fates felt compelled to conspire. Just about 24 hours later, my husband announced that he had a lot of holiday to take and he thought it would be good to take it now while I was off. I knew immediately that I would not get much done.

So instead of long peaceful hours at the computer, we had trips to see family in Newcastle, trips to see friends in Aberdeenshire, brewery trips and jaunts off to see bands (Brendan Benson in Manchester was particularly good.) We went to the cinema and the pub a lot. We caught up with some of the films that I’d recorded on the freeview box. And I barely read or wrote anything.

Not that it wasn’t good, you understand. Often my husband works long hours and weekends so it was good to have him all to myself. I don’t want to sound like I didn’t enjoy myself. But I am used to having the summer to myself and being able to get on with whatever I want to do.

Still, he is back at work now and I have sorted the structure for Choose Yr Future and I can see what I still need to do and what needs to be removed. It is funny how storylines sometimes take on a life of their own. Now I need to do some serious pruning. I’m looking forward to getting my head down and getting out the red pen.