Tag Archives: writer

Perceiving art wrong

Since the dawn of this blogs existence I had intended for this blog to be a journey about my life and progress as a writer as well as an artist; it is quite obvious that I get distracted from this aspect of the blog a lot.

The update for today is that I have decided to take my artist-self more seriously in a less serious manner than before; I have grown in confidence regarding my place in the creative world in general because I have had a huge epiphany and that epiphany slapped me in the face and left me in awe of how simple it all really is.  I used to believe that in writing as well as art that there are certain rules you must follow in order to be a creative person, especially a creative person who is to be taken seriously by the world – but it can’t be further from the truth.  The moment you start to become serious in your creative field, it is the moment you start killing your creative self. 

How did I learn this?

As a means to start learning about art so that I could take it more seriously, I decided that my art looked a lot like three particular genres in the art world, abstract, impressionism and abstract expressionism.  But I wasn’t confident I understood abstract art well enough to dare call myself an artist in that field – perhaps I need to evaluate everything and see a deeper meaning in everything in everybody else’s work in order to appreciate my own and have other people appreciate it first.  In other words, I felt like my lack of knowledge of the art world and lack of experience meant that I felt like a fraud.

So I got reading and researching online a lot about art, particularly abstract art and abstract expressionism to help me to understand it more and perhaps even help me to understand myself more and why I might like that art.  The thing is – I learned that the best way to appreciate this genre of art is to give up all cognitive reasoning and see what you want to see, art is what you like.  Art is what you see.  Art is not about trying to imprint an impression on the observer, it is literally purely about aesthetic and your own feeling toward the art as an individual.  It is an act of freedom, which helped me understand a core thing about art and society’s opinion regarding art and that is that art is seen as an act of rebellion to some cultures.

Learning that one thing about abstract art “give up cognitive reasoning” felt so freeing that it bought about euphoria so to speak.  I understand now that there really are no bounds in art and that means the same for writing and anything else which may be considered creative.

People, who try to define art, assess it and or dissect it, kill it.  They kill it for themselves and not only that, but they unwillingly become a sort of fascist regarding it.  They can’t help it, they haven’t learned that fundamental rule that creative expression in all forms, painting, writing, music, sculpting etc., is all about freedom and your own personal feeling about the piece whatever it is.  They haven’t learned that art means you can be free and express yourself, that you don’t need a meaning, it can just simply be pretty, but usually everything a creator does, does have meaning, because we are all creatures of our subconscious and our dreams or nightmares even.

A simple little thing like this, can keep millions of people both stumped and afraid of the art world.  I believe it is why many people do not go to art galleries, they feel that art is beyond them and yet everybody in this world has indulged themselves in art daily and buy art regularly, they just don’t see those kinds of arts as important as those from the big fancy galleries such as The Tate Modern.

They don’t see the art on a can of beans or on their favourite CD album, they don’t see that they had paid for that art in some way and that some artist somewhere thanks them for their purchases, because all they are interested in is eating those beans and hearing their favourite singer on the stereo.

They see a beautiful painting mass produced at some major store and take it home with them as it is nice above the fireplace and they do not realise the process that that piece of art had undergone, they might not know the name of the artist even – yet there it is, seen by them every day without a thought about it other than “isn’t it pretty”?  These same people sit there drinking their beverages unaware of just how involved they have been throughout their life in art, how you don’t need a degree to understand or appreciate it.  There is no reason to be intimidated by art when you are literally drowning in it everywhere you go.

I think for many – I know this to be true in my family.  We have people, who are great artists in our family, but they are afraid to do it as a living because they believe that in order to be a good artist who can sell their work, they need to have a certain amount of intelligence and understanding for it.  I thought this myself ten years ago and still to a certain extent yesterday, before I read that post.  Wrong.  We are all so wrong.  If you can make shapes on a piece of paper, if you can write words or play a piece of music on an instrument, you are engaging in an art form.  When you daydream and you wish, you are engaging in an art form.  When you shoot photographs from your mobile and duckface with your friends, you are engaging in an art form.  Yes, art can be silly, because it can be anything!

I understand today that mocking art is a form of social suppression; it is an act of coercive bullying to keep someone from expressing themselves in the manner that they wish to express themselves.  The point of art is freedom, freedom of expression, freedom of speech and much more.

Some abstract art can look as though a toddler did it, but so-what?  The best forms of mental health therapy are those which involved releasing your inner child and nurturing it via self-parenting; I should know, I have been there and because no therapist can help me with my mental health I have learned to parent myself and I have learned to play with my inner child a lot.  This has got me through some tough times.  Not only that but random nonsensical splashes of paint on a canvas can be very beautiful and encapsulating.  I remember last year, I spilled rose gold ink on my sketch pad and I dabbed at the spillage with a tissue and when I pulled it off the paper I noticed by sheer dumb luck that the tissue had made a pattern that looked like a bunch of roses, so I dabbed around the whole paper and made a beautiful rose sheet of writing paper.  A happy accident, but art is formed as simply as this.

In fact, a lot of my art never started as a plan, it started as accidents or deliberate accidents.  For example, I will take a spoon of paint and let it drip or splash onto the paper for a couple of seconds, sit back and think about its shape and I let the paint tell me what it is going to be that day, then I select further colours for the piece.  I like to play, I never grew up and it is something I pride myself on.  I will do the strangest things in art and writing in order to come to the conclusions that I do; such as taking a pencil and putting it between my toes and try to draw a decided shape, such as a line or a circle or a triangle, just one thing.  I will say to myself that after ten seconds of trying this, I will stop and see what I have got and then work with it.  I do this with a pencil between the teeth, with my non-dominant hand, with splashes of paint, with a tissue or some other item dipped into paint and the result is always astounding.

I once decided I would create a picture of an ocean with a yacht and I accidentally spilled too much paint onto the ocean and dabbed it away, again with tissue, this time it left a big white imprint on the paper which was shaped like a cosmos flower and to me, all the picture then needed was a green stalk to the flower head and the picture was done.  I never did the picture with the yacht after all.

Little games like this can do wonders for your creativity.  I often play games of hypothetical situations regarding a theme I am interesting in at the time and this often gives me ideas for new projects in writing – the problem is, I do this daily and for hours sometimes and I am more full of ideas than I am actual work!

I am one of these people who can make a picture of a story out of any idea, but I seldom sit down and do it because I enjoy the process of thinking too much!

I often joke that when the technology comes where we can record our imagination and dreams and show it to others, then and only then I will be the hardest worker in the creative world!

Thank you for reading and please remember, art isn’t complicated your perception of it, is.

Leave a comment

Filed under About my work

Writers and social networking

The question I posed in yesterday’s post was written because I genuinely struggle with the question and it can cause a writing slump for me as I sit back worrying about writing yet another story just like “story A” but with a lot of major differences and different characters.  I would love nothing better than to have the freedom to write all the things I would like, but that would make me come across to readers as predictable and boring.  I can run along with the same idea and make changes quite easily and do so forever and be quite happy about it, but I don’t like doing things for myself too much, I like to write to make other people happy and to help break their monotony, I don’t want to be accused of boring them with the same stuff all the while.  But I do know that diehard fans would love reading the same stuff and the same characters over and over again, but they are far and few between usually.

What I lack more than anything in my life is a group of people who can talk to me about their experiences and how they do things and whether or not I actually have the right to feel this way and to sort of give me the permission one way or another to continue doing that or discontinue doing that. 

I can think for myself don’t get me wrong – but it is hard when you are the only writer you personally know and that the ones I do socialise with are very successfully already that they got past all of this twenty, thirty years ago and I can’t get close enough to discuss this at length with them.  My writer friend circle is so small that there isn’t a lot of room for debate if you understand me?  So I don’t have a lot of personal opinions to mull over.

This is the big bug bear of writers who don’t socialise – they don’t have a support network that is large enough to actually give them a good look into a true writers world and they can eventually become quite easily biased by the very few writers or indeed tutors of writings opinions and styles so much so, that they lose themselves in their tiny circles quality of writing.  Or to rephrase that, they become who they socialise with because their circle is so small and therefore influences them too much.  I understand how vital it is to have a large network, but I just can’t seem to get started – I don’t seem to have the personality where other writers want to talk to me more than just a criticism or a sentence. 

I think it has a lot to do with the social isolation I have in general life anyway.  I never really knew how to socialise appropriately because I was always shut away whilst growing up – but I have tried to approach people in the writing community to find myself up against people who seem so full of angst at talking to me that they give me short terse sentences or just all out criticism which isn’t healthy on so many levels that to be quite frank, I have given up on the idea of online social networking.

That’s a big shame, because I really want to learn more about this craft but I just keep coming up against a brick wall socially about it.

 

 

 

2 Comments

Filed under About my work

A writers question

I have a question – how many times can a person use an idea for their writing before their readers start to find the author predictable and boring?  Can the same idea be used in many different types of storylines?  This is a question I am struggling to find answers for lately; I have many good ideas for many different types of stories, but I can’t decide which one to go with – I’d like to eventually go for them all, but I worry that my readers will lose interest if there are too many differences of the same old storyline. 

I have ideas for mermaid stories; many ideas, depicting the mermaids in different lights and scenarios and in each story their culture and their ways are very different as much as their personalities are.

The same with my vampires, I have many different personalities for vampires and many different concepts of how they should live their lives within my stories – but – should an author be known for always depicting the vampires and mermaids that they write about in the same or similar way as they always have done?  Should they be known for that kind of vampire and that kind of mermaid rather than many types?  Do the readers expect consistency in every story about vampires to be alike or similar to another story they have read from the same author – or are big changes from story to story acceptable?

I wish I knew more about this.

I have never joined a writers circle or anything before and I have never really socialised amongst other writers, it is difficult for me to get to group sessions because of my illness and disabilities, so as long as it is free online I can’t really find out more.

What are you views on this subject?

 

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under About my work

My mind is a mess of ideas

I sit in nervous wonder at how my ideas remain

How I abuse them always and drive them all insane

I ignore them often, pushing them aside

Though they always remind me that they are always by my side

How I often think about the ones who have left me

How they were my best but they were forsaken by me

I wonder why then, that they do not rebel?

Why they do not turn around and make my life Hell

Like other authors say theirs do, I wonder why mine do not

I wonder if it is because my temper is so very, very hot

Maybe they don’t want to cross me

For I am as I am told – a force to be reckoned with

A formidable old soul

I don’t know what the answer is, but it is always clear

That those who leave me are very few

Those who stay are loved dear

But I keep getting new ones, constantly banging on my door

I get them so often, I am popular

It makes my head quite sore

I never know who to take and work on every day

It’s like a mother with too many children, each of them want to play

I can’t give my attention freely, some I will surely neglect

I wished my mind was more organised

Instead the mess in there makes me sweat

Oh so many stories and songs and poems and rants there too

I wouldn’t go into her brain says my husband, if I were you

But there I go again, thinking about this and that

I just wished I could get on with it

Whatever is next, in fact?

Leave a comment

Filed under About my work, Poems M - O

The forsaken ideas

And so it came to pass, that the author who was struggling with which of the nine best ideas she had, should she focus on next?  Got another great idea of which she cannot resist starting to write immediately and therefore forsook the others temporarily, yet again.

And may those ideas forever serve her still, although they are forsaken at present.

Leave a comment

Filed under About my work

Depressing rhymes and therapy

WARNING – This post is extremely long and contains graphic descriptions of my past – sorry, it is approximately 5k words.  (For my stalkers, would you like me to send you a copy in the post so you can really scan and tear it apart in venomous discussions with your cronies or are you OK for now?  Joke, get a life, don’t read this if you are easily upset.)

It may seem strange and a little deceptive, but some of my depressing prose, rhyme, songs, poetry etc. are not actually based on my current states of mind, some are, but most aren’t.  They are memories of various people and sometimes even empathy with people who have loved as deeply as me; I in this particular week have heard several friends online tell me that their relatives, friends or spouses are dying, just died or broken with them – I mean a lot of people in just one week and this has made me remember my darkest feelings when I have lost someone I have loved either because of a life choice or because of the non-choice of their life suddenly ending.

I can very easily slip back into old frames of mind, by simply focusing, remembering and being empathic.  I am a very strong empath and I soak up the energies of my atmosphere like a sponge, if the people around me are happy, I am relaxed and happy too, if just one person becomes negative I feel it like a brick hitting me and it saps me and if you are close to me, you notice that when I go quiet it is not a good thing, that it is affecting me in some way deeply.  I have always been this way, I have always been a sensitive person like that, but I have always been a cunning person (according to my mother), by that I mean I have always managed to come across as unaffected or even cold, it is hard to read me until I get too much of it, then I explode like a bomb and become a wreck for a while and it always takes person who know me by surprise – they haven’t learned yet that this is my way and I can’t help it.  I think it has a lot to do with how my mother raised me, because she was always encouraging me to hide my opinions and emotions from others, saying that I must never let anyone see my weak side, must never talk about my weaknesses – but that’s a problem too, because I am a person who after a while, will start to talk about my problems as a means to solve those problems and act as a sort of therapy for myself too.  If I am uncomfortable with something or someone, I will tolerate it a long time before I voice it, when I voice it, it is purely to try and come to some sort of compromise with each other, not to upset the other person at all.  I always want to solve issues before they get too big for me, but a lot of people think that when I do this, it is a big insult on who they are.  Seriously it is not, I am way too liberal and cooperative to be vindictive and critical.

Where is this post heading exactly?

I originally made this blog to act as a therapy for coping with my past.  Unfortunately a relative or two found the website and spoke to the people of whom I mention and it caused a big extensive family upset, because I had never in my life, voiced out loud my problems to anyone until literally, it was too much for me to take anymore.  To think I took twenty nine years of emotional suppression within a malevolent coercive relationship where I was controlled by four people in particular in my life who are part of my extended family – people who quite literally had mini meetings about me and how to handle me and what they should do with me and what they should make me do, half of the time I was never invited to these meetings.

Some days I would wake up to find my mother giving me that look which tells me that my life and my life schedule has changed yet again or I was about to lose something.  Things such as, Tina I want you to drop out of your college course again because we have decided that you should do this instead or that instead.  Tina we have decided to send your new puppy to the rescue centre because it looks at me funny, or you happen to have the flu for two weeks now, we can’t look after it, you promised, so we are getting rid of it TODAY!  The amount of times we had pets less than a month or two, I didn’t realise until I moved out that it was because certain relatives would only visit around once every 6 to 8 weeks, so they never got to see the new member of our family.  Sometimes she would decide that I would leave a job, simply phone the boss right now and say you are never coming back, no notice. 

Some mornings I would wake up and there would be a different look in her eye, a mischievous look, I hated those more, they were very unpredictable days.  I would find that I would be the butt of a lot of jokes, the entertainment for the evening with her friends or some relatives, or victim of some nasty trick which plays on my fears – such as, I used to have severe clown phobia, she bought me a porcelain clown, black with silver stars all over it and a star patch over its eye, she knew I was affected by many horror movies which had evil clowns in them – so she would tell me she had seen shadows and things around the house all day and things have been unnerving her and how she felt watched and keeps hearing movements upstairs.  I was always bad tempered with these silly little things she came out with, because I never really knew where she was going with this.  So I would march upstairs in a bad mood to find that my unwanted clown ornament was sitting at the bottom of the bed, arranged in a position which would make it stare directly at whoever walked into the room – with two new clown toys either side it, those were more malevolent looking than the ornament.  She would sneakily follow behind me, I stood in the door looking at these unwanted clowns, knowing it was some dumb trick, but then she would go one step further and grab me from behind and push me into the room with them, shutting the door firm behind me.  Little did I know at the time that one of the clowns actually was radio controlled to laugh evilly?  It was very sudden and scary.  I could hear nothing but the clown laughing its head off as well as my mother.

My mother’s type of Munchausen was mostly mental health conditions, skin conditions and ear conditions.  She ignored most other conditions if they were outside of this niche she wanted for me.  For some reason or another she always encouraged an eating disorder, she encouraged from the age of seven to be paranoid about my weight, sending me to weight watchers, against their rules, but she talked them into letting me go and take part.  I would be put on very tightly monitored crashed diets and then made to stop, then she would over feed me and made sure I got bigger every time, then she would put me on a diet again and this continued into my late twenties.  Feast or famine kind of life, the damage she did to my digestive system was immense and I am paying for it big time today, my colon and immune system is in a right mess with what she has done.  She used to roughly clean my ears and dip my head into the bath to get my ears wet, despite doctors from the age of five telling her not to do this as I had terrible glue ear.  I was diagnosed age seven as having lactose intolerance and a suspicion of other intolerance, but mum ignored this and never altered my diet to help me.  The amount of times growing up I would have severe night-time diarrhoea that would make me exhausted the next day, teeth chattering pain and ice cold shivers whilst on the toilet, stomach in cramps, fighting not to vomit on my mums pink bathroom rugs.  She would tell other people that I was up all night worrying about the next day for whatever reason and keeping her up and that all of this is simply down to psychosomatic reasons because I didn’t want to do something or go somewhere and I worked myself up into a frenzy about it – the amount of people who believed her too!  By the time I was eleven she had convinced the world and even my-self that I had some sort of severe social phobia, but I always knew deep down I didn’t.  I had to play along with her game because the alternative was horrible.

I developed dandruff and mum made such a big thing about it that she was determined I had some kind of horrendous fungus infection the doctor didn’t seem to know about.  She bought a nit comb and would often scrape my scalp sore, weeping and bleeding to get it off me and gave me all sorts of age inappropriate medicated shampoos.  I had severe skin infections in large masses with huge weeping oily sores all over my head most of the time growing up and even as an adult for a time, one time was so bad it developed into a huge bald patch.  She would only let me wash or bath once a week too, until I made her change this when I was fourteen and was getting self-conscious around my cousins and family friends children.  She agreed only because people started to talk about how I lacked personally pride and this embarrassed her.

I didn’t realise until my late teens that I was dressing inappropriately either, around the house when guests arrived.  Mum made it normal for me to parade around the house whenever in a chemise day and night if I wanted to, even garden in it in the summer, even if we were an overlooked garden in North London, primarily as it saved on the washing.  I had no idea until I first moved out aged twenty that it was all completely shocking behaviour and that I simply shouldn’t dress certain ways at certain times even within my own home, especially with guests or overlooking neighbours.  I didn’t even know until then about personal private hygiene either, I had to be taught by my ex-boyfriend, he had to teach me so much, like how to turn an oven on and how to wash and iron clothes, because my mother never taught me.  She gave me chores yes, lots of them, but clothes washing and putting on the oven were never a priority, yet I was taught how to cook, but she always turned it on for me and chose the number and did the timer.  When this particular ex couldn’t cope with how sheltered my life had been, he sent me back to live with her because he knew I wasn’t ready to live life on my own just yet.

When I reluctantly moved back in with her, I had a break-down that lasted for around ten months and I didn’t leave the house for nearly seven months.  I think it wasn’t so much that he dumped me, it was that he sent me back there, to her, when I thought I was free.  I tried to get away again aged twenty four, but that person was very different to how I think about life and how it should be.  I didn’t get away again until Paul came into my life when I was twenty seven, by that time; things were getting worse for me.  Because as I would start introducing new things in my life, to get a life and becoming more determined to have a job to actually keep, she felt she was losing more control over me and this made her become very irrational about a lot of things and she started to become a physical threat.

Constantly causing accidents to happen around me where I would get hurt and if I disputed this with her, she would insist it was an accident and how foolish I am to constantly walk into the cupboard door as she opens it, do I have eyes?  Or am I blind?  I remember she had two BBQ grills once, one was cooked on and the other was still cold waiting to be cooked on later.  She told me she had changed her mind about the other one being used as there was plenty of food and not everyone turned up that day, so she said to me, Tina take the coal out of the BBQ for me and put it back into the bag, after she said this to me she whispered something to her friend and nodded with a smirk, I thought nothing of it until I was shocked with burning pain in my hands, then she laughed and said to her friend, there you are see, told you she would!  They laughed too.  I could never understand how many evil people my mum found to collaborate with.  Some were very lovely and were like family to me, but others were like witches, literally.  I wasn’t taken to a doctor or a hospital with my burns, both palms were entirely blistered, she wouldn’t get me any soothing creams at all, her only comfort for me with my burning blistered hands was to run them under the cold water for a couple of minutes.  When that wasn’t working for me, she reluctantly and lazily got me a bucket of ice to put my hands in, they were not getting better and I had to sleep hanging over my bed that night with my hands in that bucket of ice water in a heatwave of 30c, she wouldn’t help get me more ice during the night to top up, I had to get it myself.

As much as no one believes me now, who knows my mum; she often would call me over to kneel in front of her when she was on a corded phone if an ashtray wasn’t around, I had to hold the fag for her and let her drop the ash into my palms, sometimes it would burn, sometimes it didn’t then when she finished her fag she would drop it into her tea cup and signal for me to wash the cup out and get her another tea quickly, because she would want another fag in less than ten minutes again.  My mother is the sort of person who can drink three cups of tea an hour and smoke every ten to fifteen minutes, she gave up smoking just two years before I moved out.

I have been threatened with defamation for telling these truths, because there are people who simply can’t imagine my mother being like that, because they have never experienced this side of her.  One of these people happens to be a sibling of mine who is fourteen years older than me and lived an almost jet setter life from the age of nineteen.  Mum changed a lot around a year after we moved to Hendon, when I was just about to turn seven.

Up until I became seven, she was a normal sweet mother and I really wanted to be like her when I grew up, smoking and all.  But when things started to change by the time I was thirteen I really wanted to try so hard to avoid being the slightest bit like her.  I don’t smoke, I don’t drink like a fish from Friday till Sunday mornings, I don’t go on wild parties, I don’t send my children across the country to various relatives for 4 months of the year in dribs and drabs because I can’t be bothered with them, I don’t criticise my child endlessly and try to shape him into the image I want him to be, I don’t eat McDonald’s four times a week, I don’t constantly sniff, I don’t like starting arguments or drink endless cups of tea or try to upset neighbours or hit and throw out my child because he was open about being gay or loving a black person – I am not like her at all!

I remember one of my brothers once joked to see her reaction that he had got a black woman pregnant and he has to marry her.  I am not exaggerating when I said she didn’t just hit him, she literally beat him up like she was in the WWF (former name of WWE), he was curled in a ball in the hall floor begging her to stop because it was a joke, which just made her madder.

My brother often had fights with other guys after nights out, he had a bruise or two afterwards, but he was like he had survived a car crash when mum had finished with him that night.

I even remember mum telling me stories about how she deliberately arranged to break my dad’s leg to stop him from going into the Falklands too.  Though when this is bought up the story changes slightly all the time, it is one of these Chinese whisper rumours that goes on in my family, it is always different when it’s retold and if challenged by anyone who was horrified by the story – of course it never happened, whoever bought it up is a liar, that’s what they usually say!

My mother is relentless and tireless in her control of everybody’s lives, some people are too trapped in reverie to realise how much she controls their lives and their observations and reality, so they never really know or feel that she is coercing them in so many things.  It is so weird how so many people can live their life so blind all the time.  She gets them by being a very generous person who is a pillar of strength for them when they are both mentally and financially in need.  I have noticed a lot of the good friends who are kind and relatives who are kind are those who are disabled, formerly homeless, lonely, or were ex suicidal people, people who usually feel they owe everything to my mother because my mother had gave them a home, gave them a chance, gave them money, pulled them together when they were hospitalised and cleaned their homes for them without asking for anything in return.  It is difficult to get people to believe you about your problems with a person when the person in question seems like an angel to a lot of others.

I have been around a lot of unsavoury people from a very young age.  People that was always risky to be in the room with as a child; ex-convicts, drug addicts, drunks, violent people and those with violent brain degenerative diseases like aggressive personality changes due to dementia and Alzheimer’s.  I have even been babysat by said people.  One or two of them were not as good as they promised to be to my mum but mum always felt it was too much bother to handle the situation because she needed anyone to babysit me at the time.  Not all of them were family, some people were hardly known even by my mother.  I even remember once she was so desperate she promised to pay the electric bill of an impoverished neighbour who had a drunk wife beating husband and five kids, I stayed with them for the night and for them it was a normal night but for me it was a horror story.  Their dad came home drunk and beating his wife by eleven and I had to just get used to the fact that I had to stay there until morning.  When I told mum about this, she attacked the poor woman about how much this woman promised I wouldn’t see that kind of behaviour but a man like that is unpredictable, mum should have known better because she was raised with a father like that herself.

I can’t stop my therapy; I need to move on with my life.  I can’t be done for defamation because it is all true and I do have solid proof that certain things did indeed happen, despite how my brother wishes it didn’t.  My solid proof are minutes and papers from social services and a variety of charities which helped me from the age of ten to sixteen, I have doctors reports I can summon up at any time to give papers about how violent my mother had been to various members of staff, I have an aunt who will vouch for the violent outburst mum had too.  I just have too much to prove and I can prove it.

The thing is, if this goes further and I do indeed find myself in the court for defamation, I will win because of these minutes and reports and not only that, the person in question would do my mother no favours because there is a lot more I will never voice because she will surely go to jail with huge fines if it was revealed and at her age and current state of health that wouldn’t be nice for her.  But then again the person who threatened me with defamation was warned seven years ago that mum was too mentally fragile to know about this blog and the truth being revealed and that she was already suicidal herself about her health problems and they didn’t care enough about her then, they still told her, so I guess they won’t care this time around either!

You can only see how much weight mum has put on since she was told the truth is out, my mum eats when she is scared and only scared, I received an unwanted photograph of my mother a few weeks ago from someone online and I couldn’t believe my eyes about how big she has got. It tells me everything.  I didn’t want to scare her; I didn’t want her to know about me revealing things, because to be honest, I didn’t want to be the one who got blamed for killing her.  Because I still remember the sweet mum I had before we moved to Hendon and I still remember the good times we had, my childhood wasn’t completely horrible, there were good times even if it was always tainted with a bad ending at the end of the day. 

But I cannot sit back and let people believe that my childhood was great, that I was spoiled that I have mental health problems of the kind she claims I have. 

I do have severe mental problems but they are not the kind she tells people.  I have manic depression where I go into bouts of laughing and being happy and then going suicidal, I have post-traumatic stress syndrome, trichotillomania and self-harming issues, I still retain her trained into me feast or famine habits two sided eating disorder, starve for a month and feast for a month thing, mild dissociative disorder (where my personality changes, it has been suggested I have more than one personality, but I never had this dealt with by a therapist and it was hard for them as I never had different names for my different shifts of personality and they felt my personality was shifting a lot, purely because I didn’t have a chance to grow up and define my-self freely) my dissociative problems also cause me to forget the body I am in; make me think that I am in a healthier body and I try and do things and end up having accidents or fainting as the body can’t cope with what I am trying to do, I often have these flashes where I am some kind of super healthy and fit athlete and I try to work out and collapse within ten minutes as my shell is really suffering from more than one auto-immune problem.

Because of my varied types of guardians growing up, I have a strong chav come wigger side (excuse the expression I have no idea how to describe that), I tend to put my hair in dreadlocks during those times and write rap songs and hang around beatboxers and wear chav style clothes and big brash gold jewellery and black hats, a middle class side which is probably my most normal personality socially and my most used; and then there is  an extremely aristocratic side where I can’t tolerate inconsistencies in language and etiquette and I yearn for renaissance parties or larping.   Also as my father’s family are very Victorian in their manner and speech, I have a Victorian side and my speech can seem almost two hundred years outdated very easily, this is more seen in my writing than my vocalisation though often when speaking, a lot of my contemporaries struggle with my language usage and voice change. 

I also have a very aggressive side which only comes out if I am soaking up too much aggression around me and if I feel physically threatened, I was never told what this kind of mental illness is called but if someone physically attacks me (and they have done so a lot in my past) I get dizzy, my eyes seem to fill up with blood and I go blind and I snap out of it several minutes later to find out that I have hurt my attacker badly or I have been restrained before any damage was done, this has only ever happened four times in my life.

I must also admit – I don’t realise that my voice changes between personalities.  But I have recorded myself various times and I can do accents and different class styles very easily, I have been told by a friend who works in radio that I really should become a voice over artist as my voices are so varied and consistent.  When I knew Rebecca just two years before I met Paul I remember we sat down together and she asked me to deliberately think of my various voices and try some new ones to see how I go. 

My list is huge.  My best voices are, Marge Simpson, Jimmy Krankie, Joanna Lumley, Mariella Frostrup (when my throat is having a bad day and I try to be posh), Julie Walters, Jane Horrocks, Maxine Peake, Kathy Staff, Peggy Mount, Bonnie Tyler (when singing) as well as Etta James (when I sing, I have a powerful soul, mow town and rock singing voice); My best accents are Southern Irish, Scottish highlander, rural Cheshire, Alabama, New York Jew, New York Italian, Italian, Greek, Russian, German, Chinese, Japanese, Hindu, South Carolina country bumpkin and New Zealander, as well as cockney, middle and upper class west London, Essex and Welsh.  There are other voices I can do, but they are not defined as an individual yet, or at least we’ve never come across a person who talks like those people yet and there are some American accents I can’t seem to decide what state they are from either.  I do have a very versatile voice when it is in full working order and unfortunately I haven’t been able to play with my voice for nearly a month now and for an average of 4 months of the year my voice is affected due to severe throat infections.  My real voice sounds a lot like Martine McCutcheon and when I was younger and I died my hair dark purple which was almost black in some shades, people even mistook me for looking like her when I was in the street, but this is my main voice when around my blood family – my voice has changed a lot since but often floats back when dealing with my past.  My voice nowadays is described by others to be more like I am from the West Midlands, a mild, middle class accent which would make sense considering how often I was sent to live for a few weeks here and there growing up to Cheshire, Market Drayton and other areas around here – what makes people laugh is whether I was with blood family or not, if I got upset my voice would change into a very strong Cheshire accent all of a sudden!

My life was so unsettled; it isn’t difficult to believe how hard it was to define myself, even my voice.

This post has got far too long now, nearly reaching 5k words, I should really give you all time to digest this and I am very nervous about admitting to the kinds of mental illnesses I have in as much detail as I have.  But the mental illnesses I do not have, which my mother has lied about are social phobias, compulsive eating (yes I have an eating disorder but it is not that), self-isolation, hysterical tantrums and screaming fits on the floor and to some people she has even lied that I have a mental learning disability as well as going into funny trances and doing weird things which scare her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under My life

Considering non-fiction

A common piece of advice in the writing world is “write what you know” and although I do like to write a lot of things for research and so forth I have never really completely considered writing non-fiction before, but now I feel I would like to, for magazines eventually.  I have contemplated writing for a couple of specific hobby magazines because I have extensive knowledge on their main subjects.  I am going to list what I feel I know a lot about here and I may or may not share posts in the future of these subjects just to give you a taste of what I know.

Gardening

More specifically no dig, organic, permaculture, poly-culture style gardening.  This also includes wildlife gardening and creating mini-ecosystems, building a pond and dry stone walling.

I am also very knowledgeable in wild food foraging, where plants originated from and native British species, this also includes an interest in garden ornithology, and I wouldn’t say I am a bird watcher, but I pay too much attention to the wildlife and bird life within my own personal property that I have gotten to know their numbers as well as their habits.

I would also say that regarding garden pests and flora disease I am also a very knowledgeable biological warrior, using only nature against nature, nothing man-made, to benefit my plant-life, this means I will sometimes grow things I don’t specifically want, simply to provide my garden what I call “Sacrificial” plants.

Along with this I have had an avid interest in flora folklore/superstitions and ancient medical uses and my flora Latin is quite good, almost Carol Klein like.  I keep up to date with the gardening world as much as possible and before my health and benefit cuts happened I was a subscriber to four of Britain’s most renowned gardening magazines amongst other magazines I was interested in – bit of a magazine addict I was/am.

I have a huge amount of experience gardening a lot throughout my life (not professionally) but in the past three years specifically it has been only in dribs and drabs and the garden is looking a mess to put it lightly, namely because of health complications.

American professional wrestling between the years 1990 and 2003

I was an addict of watching wrestling when I was 10yrs old right up until I met an ex-boyfriend who didn’t approve of how much I loved wrestling.  I watched every kind of wrestling that was available to me, I bought every VHS and DVD I could afford at the time and I was even planning to go to America to learn how to wrestle – upon reflection it is a good thing I didn’t considering my career would have been over aged 30 because of these health problems!  I read a lot of wrestling magazines and body building magazines because I was so into it, then aged 21 I kind of grew up and loss contact with wrestling almost completely until last year.  I now sparsely watch TNA and AEW.

I am not sure I could write very much about what I knew from that long ago because it would be considered too ancient for anyone to care, I suppose?

Dogs, dog breed histories and dog training and grooming

I have been considered by people who know me as being the female British version of Cesar Milan as I seem to be a dog whisperer and have helped several people understand their dog’s behaviour!

I know it sounds absolutely awful but a few weeks ago on TV there was a show on it called train your baby like a dog and I have to say it is absolutely true – I see no difference whatsoever in training a dog than I do a baby and vice versa, it is very similar!  Every social creature has an innate desire to become dominant within its social circle and this usually is the worst during infancy, every social creature eventually learns through infancy and good guidance from its elders that it has to follow rules or there will be ramifications, it is not different to humans at all.  Humanity has to get over this silly idea that humans are different to animals.

You get a neglected child and they tend to grow up off the rails and they attack authority at all costs in many cases, you get a well nurtured child and they are more likely to fall in line and be a good citizen.  I know from personal experience not every child who is neglected grows up to become an anarchist, because not every child in the world has the desire to control others.  Children like I was simply wanted the world to be a lovely peaceful place and this in turn, made me quite a submissive and quiet individual.  My brother on the other hand was the type to go off the rails and fight authority all his life.  My other brother was nurtured pretty well because he was a love child and was wanted, unlike me and the other brother, consequently he is a neutral person who has a good relationship with his mother and is socially stable with very little emotional problems.

It is the same with dogs in my opinion.  You nurture that dog like it is your personal baby and depending on how much discipline you demand of it, it will either take advantage of you and become a nasty biting little dog, or it will grow up a stable individual who loves his mama and will obey at all costs.  By discipline I don’t mean shout and yell or kick and hit, that is disgusting behaviour which will eventually become a habitual behaviour in whatever creature you are nurturing as it will become a normality for them.

With a dog, like a baby and a toddler you command and teach with as few words as possible that you repeat regularly so not to confuse them, so it sinks in and you give them infinite patience no matter how you feel.

Superstitions and folklore around the world including cryptozoology

I have had a massive interest in all things supernatural and all things strange and unknown since I was around seven years of age.  I have studied extensively as many books on the subject as possible, particularly witchcraft and vampires, but there has been other creatures and situations I have been interested in hugely.  I have also been interested in peasant folklore and their beliefs, such as talking to the bees, bowing and saluting magpies and being aware of what colour and type of flower you bring to a person or a house.  I am interested in the Victorian art of the language of flowers, something I should have mentioned above in the gardening section.  I have been gifted beautiful bunches of flowers and often hide a laugh behind my polite thank you smile, when I notice I have been gifted red and white lilies as in some superstitions around the world red and white denotes death as well as lilies being the flower of death.  I don’t hold with the superstitions myself, but I love learning about them.  For example, I have bought lilacs and hawthorns into my home as part of my cut flower display for the dining table, many superstitious people would say that my health is my own fault then, because those plants bought into the house will make the head of the house sick and even kill them within a couple of months.

World History primarily European and Chinese history

This is another subject that I am interested in, particularly my own personal genetic history and the history of aristocrats, royalty and gypsies, also ancient warfare and combat.  The history I am interested in is vast, I also love reading about architecture too and fashion from the ages.  I have a lot of useless information in my head if I wasn’t a writer, but as I am a writer these so-called useless bits of information that seem to serve no purpose are actually polished gems which will help me create real feeling worlds in my novels.

Food is another interest of mine

I am knowledgeable in vegan and vegetarian dishes (but not a vegetarian or vegan myself), the paleo lifestyle and the diet known as The Wahl’s Protocol, Mediterranean diet, Indian and Chinese diet, as well as desserts and pies and so forth.  I love cooking and baking, sugar crafting and making homemade sweets, cakes etc. you name it, I love it.  Despite my allergies, which adds another skill to my list, all these things above I can do gluten and lactose free!  I don’t just research recipes and share them either, I am so interested in the world around me and how to keep healthy (because let’s face it I need to try and stop being ill) that I can tell you the sorts of vitamins and minerals you will find in each piece of food you eat as well as tell you the best way to grow it and it’s best companion plants in the garden to grow it next to and the type of soil it needs for the highest of nutritional benefit!

I make compotes, jams and chutneys, soups, pies, pastries, cakes, bread, I am just very versatile in the kitchen, but I must warn you… I am one of these strange people in life who can’t do anything simple like omelettes or frying sausages, without burning them or myself, the more complicated the recipe, the better I am!

Chickens too

Yes you heard it; I am knowledgeable about keeping chickens and how to keep them healthy, including any plants you must avoid around them and using their chicken manure as well as making excellent homemade chicken stock and soup.

Gemstone healing

I used to be into this big time, but lately I am so ill with so many things going on that unless I lay down for three hours a day I really don’t benefit much from these anymore, simply because I can’t lay down for more than 3 minutes on a bad day without choking.

But the stuff I know seems to work for others.

Religion and religious history from around the world

Despite being renowned as a person with humanist leanings and having no precise religion, I am actually quite obsessed about learning about religion in all its forms and researching intensively.  I don’t have a religion because I don’t like to commit to something which could actually be what I call a “deceivers religion”, I am paranoid about getting it wrong.  In a lot of my research material I have discovered amazing things that have surprised me so much I have been absolutely stupefied at how little so-called pious people know about their own faith and its origins.

I try not to preach to people when religion is bought up (only inform so they can make their own decisions about things) but I am shocked about how little they know of their own faith, it is hard, but I have made a point that as far as religion and politics are concerned, I can air my beliefs online on social media but I will not engage on any debate about it, because once you commit to something like that, it will become a never ending argument as neither side tends to relent.  For some religious people, when I simply state “each to their own and lets agree to disagree” they simply won’t leave it at that.  I have extensive knowledge of Judaism, Catholicism and Christianity in all its forms as well as Hinduism and Buddhism; I haven’t much knowledge just yet on Islam or Sikhism unfortunately.  But I also know a lot about ancient religions such as Norse, Greek, Roman, Egyptian and especially Sumerian beliefs.

It is interesting to read the origin of Christianity too; a lot of the original beliefs are not upheld in Christian communities of today, a Christian from the time of Christ’s death around the time it first started, would have a problem digesting a lot of what goes on in Christian communities of today.

For me personally God is gender-less, they do not have a name simply as being known as a creator or more specifically the creator, I cannot give them an image nor assume that they are in human form just because I am, I will not presume what he deems is good and evil, but I do believe he will give me the innate instinct of knowing what he thinks about certain things I am pondering before I do them.  If I think I would feel bad or remorseful after doing something, I generally consider that as a sign I must not do it and I have had this belief for nearly 18yrs.  It is naughty to presume anything about God or the creator, no one must think they can speak for him or make laws based on what they believe he wants – because I do also believe there is a deceiver who works against the truth and that is the evil in the world.  If anything hurts or kills or hates or does anything remotely negative, it has been influenced by the evil in the world or the deceiver as I call them.  I will also state that I do believe billions of people can be wrong, because billions of people can be duped, look at the concept of fake new for one thing – fake news is not new.  I must admit I have been planning a book on this, but I am scared I will become the new Salman Rushdie with death threats and so forth.  Paul believes he has never met a more pious person in his life, pious but without religion, pious but without an explanation to the world and he would never dare call me religious in a mainstream sense, because that would be very wrong, there is no religion in the world which is remotely pure enough that it cannot be tainted in some way and I believe I am by far from perfect, no one can be perfect in a world where evil resides so freely.

Some people in the past have considered me to be a Satanist, simply because I quoted something that Satan was reputed to have said once.  I am trying to remember the source where I read it from, but he was quoted in saying “I do not hate God, but I hate the God of man”, which in my opinion tells me a lot, it tells me that the God of man is what man has made for himself either by humanities own design or by the design of a great deceiver, which also shows me that Satan is not someone who is at war with God if I were to believe the Judo-Christian concept – it means there is a different devil at work, someone who has cleverly kept his name unknown and has spread bad media against those of the truth, whilst endeavouring over the centuries to conceal, hide and destroy the truth, to confuse humanity with false knowledge.

It is very deep stuff, but it is worth thinking about.

I believe wholeheartedly that there is a balance in the universe and at present the balance is tipping hither and tither good and evil, there is definitely a power struggle and I have no idea why humanity is key in it all nor whether or not humans are the only creatures on earth who have a religion, because I am not Dr Doolittle.  But we can’t presume that animals don’t have a religion no more than we can presume what the truth is.

You can find the truth in a lot of lies, because a liar can never remember their own lies and will often slip up.  If you read many conflicting religious ideas over the centuries you do begin to see a pattern of both inconsistencies and consistencies.

I know I am religious in my own way because five years ago a person in the street yelled next to me at some Jehovah Witnesses in Birmingham this “God is dead”! and for me, that was a knife through the heart and stomach and it made me feel quite ill, it affected me badly enough that Paul had to stop me ranting at them about how wrong and evil they were to state it.

I know some of my poetry seem to attack God directly, but you have never asked which God I am writing about.  Usually when I write about God so venomously I write about the God of man or the deceptive God and I will tell you something extraordinary and you may not be inclined to believe it.  But when I was 25yrs old I spoke a lot about my beliefs on four religious and spiritual forums and I was researching for the truth, I discovered many things, many so-called secret societies and secrecy in general, I was shocked to find in my private message box, a message from the Vatican telling me that what I say may or may not indeed be true, but I must stop talking about it, lest I have problems from them.  Thinking nothing of it, for a short while in my life I noticed I was stalked, primarily by priests and nuns which is unnerving and a strange coincidence.  When I decided to stop vocalising about it all, they stopped following me.

Now is this a coincidence?  I was never really sure.  But it is food for thought.  Coincidentally, seven people I knew from the forums that refused to be quiet on the same subjects, died in accidents in less than two years after my silence and a further two people were arrested for apparently nothing and was never released, weird enough their families and friends are unable to visit them which has caused big stirs with the authorities.

It is a strange world out there, stranger than you think and more secretive and deceptive than you think.

Arts and crafts

I have a  broad scope of knowledge regarding arts and crafts, from doing 1000 piece puzzles, to knitting, sewing, embroidery, decoupage, greeting card making, scrap-booking, felt making, making Christmas and Halloween decorations, you name it, I have probably done it for a time. 

Learning languages and having an interest in the origins of words and names

For some of my friends I can come across as a bit of a Susie Dent from Countdown to them, I will explain the name and origins of their chosen names for their babies and I will bring up words they’ve never heard of before because they have recently been removed from the English dictionary and I am vainly trying to popularise those words so that they can get back into the dictionary once again.  I had a huge debate three weeks ago with a bunch of online friends about the new username I have on a game site we use, the word was Eventide, a lot of people misunderstood this as being Eve as in Adam and Eve and some others thought what does ide mean?  Because they thought I meant event ide as some thought perhaps I loved fishing!  Well no, eventide is old English for evening and they can’t understand why I just didn’t name myself Evening instead.  How boring.  A lot of people are forgetting the use for the words dawn and dusk and even twilight, you say the word twilight now and they instantly think shitty teen vampire movie.  Twilight by the way is my most favourite time of the day, it is so beautiful sometimes and I have often thought about naming a daughter Twyla because of it, though the meaning of the name Twyla is old English for two or double, usually given to a twin daughter a lot like the name Thomas for boys, which also means twin.  I know quite a bit of Latin, I am currently a level 3 Italian students, fluent in French, tourist ability in Japanese and Spanish and I have learned excellent methods of learning languages at an incredible speed.  If I practise a language an hour a day I am usually fluent within the year at most, regarding languages I am a fast learner, astute, adroit, you name it!  It can be difficult to speak in all the words I know because I still have that working class way inbuilt into me, but I can shift the manner of which I speak very well to whomever I am talking to at the time.  I don’t mean my voice, I don’t mean my personal mannerisms or accent, I am simply talking about going from tabloid to broadsheet whenever the situation needs it!  I often sit there, with my semi-working-class accent talking to people of upper middle or high class talking to me, they think working class, OK, I use some big words here to make myself sound smarter and I sit there and grin because I can use big words too, it is a lovely feeling to have, smarm.

That’s about it really.   That and general literature, but that is mostly useful for quizzes or recommendations rather than being a piece of worthwhile knowledge.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under About my work

The kelp dragons and the fairy coronation

In the land of the kelp dragons all mossy and green

The creatures are preparing a coronation for a new fairy queen

Her dress is green felt embroidered with ferns and her crown is gold apricots that won’t spoil or turn

She rides to the scene with an elegant mare, that’s decorated with blueberries, apples and pears

The dragons sit around protecting the queen

Nothing can harm them, they are too supreme

The fairies all gather around in the fen

As the dragons give their blessings to the queen and them

Before the dawn comes all have fun at the ball

The royal procession is fun time for all

Before the sunrises, the queen kisses goodbye, to all the kelp dragons and tries not to cry

Because she won’t ever see them again, as they only come to fairies if its coronation time again

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems J - L, Short Story Series

Social media following corps

This post is about what I call “The social media following corps” and how I feel about social media in general – it is not a rant, it is just an opinion and one that many people find both interesting and strange regarding my view of it all.

I have many social media accounts purely to try and network if I can, usually my time whether sick or not, dictates that I don’t really have time to squeeze in too much conversation with people who may not ever actually be involved in my offline life.  Many people, who follow me on the social networks I am on, are lucky to get a reply from me about once a month, but certainly over two thirds of my followers don’t even get that much attention from me.  It is confusing for me to understand how many people in the world of social media have full-time jobs, families, write as a side-line and still have time to spend twiddling away on mobile phones talking to thirty individuals a day and manage to remember and even get upset if someone has not replied to them for a set time frame and will go to the extent of deleting the said individual.  Where do people find the time to do all this and remember thousands of individual on their social media following page?  I can’t be like that – no more than I can do what my aunt and cousins constantly request of me, which is to take photographs and videos all the time on my mobile phone to prove to them that this certain day was as great as I said it was, that I did indeed go to the Severn Valley or Dudley Zoo, they want photographic proof all the time and I am just too busy living the moment to remember to pull out my phone every five minutes and I am made to feel alien because of it.  Is it really so weird to enjoy the moment without pushing buttons and capturing it all for the world to see?  Must I really take a photograph of that gluten and lactose free cheeseburger I found in Rugby that time?

I feel the world of social media can sometimes become too silly and compulsive.  By trying to capture the moment it often ruins the moment and makes the moment less personal – it’s that way for me anyway!

I like checking twitter and seeing who has made effort to try and communicate with me and I do try to reply to those I feel have something worth replying to.  Most of the time however I just say thanks for the heads up or thank you, or whatever it is usually just short and sweet and usually I hardly get anything back other than the same old same old.  I will always praise where I feel praise is truly due, I will not make a polite comment just to boost someone’s ego that is not me, I am very honest about my opinions of other people’s work.  I am not just nice for the sake of it, if I comment nicely to you, then you in my opinion are worthy of that comment and you should feel proud of yourself for doing great work.  My criticisms are there to help you along, improve you and I don’t usually bite that hard when I do so, I am tactful.  I am not like the guy who once told me that they believe that something I wrote was a one night bender after booze, that is just rotten and cruel and not very specific and constructive, it is just criticism for criticisms sake.

I have never understood the culture of follow Fridays.  I like and appreciate that people share my name with their followers, but I often wonder why?  I don’t do that myself and some people have unfollowed me for it as I rarely mention other people in my tweets unless I am specifically talking about them or to them.  I only follow people I find interesting and that goes for all social media and blogs, if I am following you, I genuinely like your work and I am interested in you as a person.  I am also quite an introvert with new people so it can take me awhile to try and make a conversation if I am the first one to start any kind of conversation.  I am a cautious person when conversing with new people because I have been raised in a very aggressive, uptight and insecure environment, where a relative of mine had their throat cut once just for looking at a person and allegedly smirking at them.  So you can understand my caution.

I am not anti-social, I just find it difficult to meet thousands of people’s expectations all of the time, every single day, when they are not actually involved in my personal offline life.  I always try to visit other bloggers who follow me here, but sometimes it is not always easy to get around some of their blogs and I am a bit of a luddite, if technology is difficult I don’t give it much time before I think “ugh, I can’t get my head around this, I have to go” because complicated technology makes me quick to anger.  Some people over complicate their blogs and that is where I think a lot of bloggers go wrong.  They hide things behind this tab and that tab and every time you go to their page their oldest introduction page is the first thing you see – whereas really it should be your latest post.  Because some people have so many tabs that their latest post could be hidden behind any twenty of those tabs, not the one you think it might be.  It is a crying shame as there is a lot of talent out there with people who just don’t know how to present their work appropriately.

Another thing which sort of upsets me regarding social media is the idea that because I am a writer, I must have had a book published somewhere, anywhere and that I must promote it to these other writers who are following me and if I never do that (and I never have) they question my authenticity as an author.  “Oh, but your profile says you are a writer and you follow me and you have retweeted my promotions I need to do the same for you”, yes but the problem is I am unpublished formally and I unlikely to have anything published within the next two to three years, realistically.  So they start to tell me how Amazon is a great medium for becoming published or other self-publishing places, I keep telling them I am not yet ready for this because there are some personal issues I need to clear up first but they never understand.

You see, I have been told that there are some medical conditions the doctor suspects I have, but our area has a two year waiting list to investigate anything let alone get to have a first appointment with a consultant – nobody is ready to hear that because they want my work and they want it now and these are just other writers, they are not even agents, publishers or anything like that.  It is both confusing and frustrating.

There are agents and publishers who know of me and like what little they know of me so far and they do try to send me prep talks from time to time, but really they know my situation too.  For the past several weeks I have been confined to my bed and house, my illness, whatever it is, is taking such a big toll on my body I can barely move these days.  So, I am fearful of many things because of this – as I spoke about yesterday, I am fearful of death.  I do fear that something has a tight grip on my body that maybe nobody will see the novels I have finished or half finished, the only thing the world will ever see is whatever I can manage to stick here on my blog. 

I am that sick that I am not even planning a future anymore.

Things should improve in about two or three years’ time, I don’t know why I have this idea that it will, because there is something at the back of my mind which keeps telling me that in 2023 everything will improve.  I don’t understand what it is, maybe it is the subconscious realisation that in three years’ time I will be forty and I have always heard people say and I have always believed it to be true as I have witnessed several women in my past, that life begins at forty.  So, maybe it is that, maybe it is something in the universe telling me it is just a health blip which will correct itself in three years’ time or maybe I am just being dumb.  But there is definitely something biting at me that my life will vastly improve by 2023.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Brain Drain & Dribbles

Happy New Year & update

Happy New Year everybody!

This is just an update on what has been going on with me;

Today has been the first day since the 21st December 2019 that I have been able to actually leave my bed for more than an hour, flu hit me hard and fast and without warning and then it turned as it always does into a chest and double ear bacterial infection. (I pre-scheduled some posts for the holidays in anticipation for this) I have been on antibiotics but there are still bubbles in my chest so, I may have to go back to the doctor again on Friday about that.  Thankfully my chest has not been as bad as it usually is this time of year and that could be down to the fact that I am taking care of myself better – I literally did confine myself to my bed all this time and have been drinking something akin to 3 litres of fluids a day to keep myself hydrated.  My vertigo and asthma has been bad though.

I should be much better by the end of next week if all goes well – which makes this illness thankfully short in duration.

There has been a suggestion that my post nasal drip and chest problems could be COPD, a friend is convinced I have to have this looked into.  I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out to be that because my mother and other relatives have this condition, though I have never known them to be so severe for so long.

I am also convinced that the lumps I get in various parts of my body are not what my GP calls “folliculitis” at all, because these lumps come up within hours or a day or two before I get hit badly with infections, colds and flus, I told this to them but they seem to be smarmy enough to know more than I do about my bodies reactions!  Whenever I get badly sick, doctors are always surprised at how swollen I am everywhere, but still, the warning lumps as I call them are only folliculitis, not a sign of anything else at all.

Goodreads.com annual reading challenge I set myself for 2019 was 75 books and I managed to read 119 (and a half). 

Goodreads challenge this year for 2020 will be 104 books.  Which, health willing, I should be able to totally smash by August.

This illness is making me go off of food lately.  I am really begin to dislike food, I don’t enjoy it anymore and I don’t think it is just the illness as this has been coming on slowly for the last couple of months – but since this flu started I have virtually not wanted a thing at all.  I think I have lost a lot of weight in the past two weeks, my pyjamas are very big on me and there seems to be gaps in places I haven’t had in a while. 

I don’t normally watch a lot of TV but this illness has dictated that I have watched an average of 10 hours of TV per day since the 21st – watching a lot of stuff that has been giving me a lot of inspiration but unfortunately too tired to write most of them down.  Mostly I have watched Minions and Shrek, fantasy movies and wildlife documentaries.  I like the new BBC Dracula series that’s on this New Year, but then again it is vampires, why am I not surprised?

Over the past few months I have been lulling over two ideas based on the novel Dracula, which is unusual for me, as my vampires are usually unique characters designed purely by me, but these two particular ideas I have are entirely based on the original novel by Bram Stoker.

One idea of which is based on the viewpoint of Dr Van Helsing and it is based on the future rather than the past.  It is based on a post-apocalyptic world.

The other idea I have is based on the viewpoint of the three brides of Dracula, there is a big twist though with one of the brides, based on European history and so forth, so it is more than I let on.

A couple of days before the flu struck me down, I did more genealogical research on my family and found out I am a descendant of someone in history I have always particularly hated – typical isn’t it?  I found out I am descended as a 23rd great granddaughter to Ralph DeNeville through his daughter Philippa.  Since discovering this, I have been getting ideas based on these times as well, with a fantasy twist of course.  I have been thinking about writing alternative historical fantasy fiction.  I am very keen on history so I think I could make it come across very realistic, the thing is, I will not leave fantasy out of the equation, so there will be a lot of strangeness to the stories and quite possibly comedy.

There is a lot of history in my vampire novels, particularly around the Roman, Tudor, Renaissance and Victorian times, so I already have some skill writing about that. 

I don’t want to lose the concept of comic fantasy though, I have recently heard that comedy fantasy is very sought after and hardly anyone is taking the bait for it – so hopefully if I took myself more seriously as a writer, I should have an open market for what I have to offer.  I am not cocky enough to presume that it will be a doddle for me to get published at all, I really don’t believe I am all that great – despite what people have said to me, but the market is appears to be less crowded?

Well I can only hope in the least.  I nearly forgot to write those six stories I wanted to do for the magazine as well, I will get on that in the next couple of days – I have settled on a mermaid story for that as my first entry.

Happy New Year Everyone!

2 Comments

Filed under About my work