The desire to write - where does it come from?

Ever wondered where the desire to write started? I do, all the time. What makes my brain germinate ideas, characters and events which take over my mind and force me to write for hours? How come my friend can't conjure a single imaginative comment or phrase for a leaving card? Yet, I have too many for the tiny space allocated to me.

If you've followed this blog for a while you'll know that my love of books grew from circumstance - where I chose to escape within the pages of fiction. The phase prior to that escapism was Lego. 
Seriously, as a young child I was a Lego kid - I could (and still can) make anything out of  a big tub of Lego: houses, cars, even a stand-up Santa Claus! The true beauty of Lego is the appliance of imagination, without it you just have a coloured brick of various size - with a thriving imagination those bricks can be anything. I believe my initial phase of creativity nurtured by tiny bricks was my starting block to writing.

Knowing how the brain works in creating dendrites, I believe the network of my brain was formed and forged with that early imaginative play. The problem with the brain is the old 'use it or lose it' regime - it has been pure chance that since childhood I have always nurtured the creative juices - whether it be painting, crafting or music. All of which have kept those dendrite beauties alive and strong... ever eager to do more. My love of books kicked in at the age of eight which bolstered the budding imagination and eventually I out grew the books I was reading to fire the need to produce my own stories.

In hindsight it appears such a simple realisation, but I wonder if my parents understood the true potential of their gift when purchasing my first box of Lego? I doubt it.  

I'm back!

Hello. Remember me?  I wouldn't be surprised if you'd forgotten! Given the month that I've just survived, I can assure you I am so glad to be back. January 2015 is going into my memory as the strangest, most stressful, time zapping month of my life, so far. It was a horrible month and now that I'm sitting safely in February, I can call it every name under the sun. But it taught me one thing - I have to write.

Without my normal writing pattern I feel ill. I feel mentally and physically unbalanced, I feel stressed, I have migraines, I don't sleep, I don't feel grounded - in short, I am not me! For so long I have had this amazing creative outlet which I take for granted and yet when it is decreased or diminished to the bare minimum I literally feel like another person. A stranger. Gone is the song in the morning, gone is the smile, even my laughter sounded different. A non-creative impostor has walked in my shoes.

January happened for a hundred and one different reasons; one or two were my fault, the thousand other faults belonged to other people - but having had a weekend of creative tasks and writing I can honestly say I've returned to me. My fingers simply wish to dance upon the keyboards and spy the line of characters spreading across the white page. I'm back, and if feels great.

So, my plans for this week - to polish a short story competition piece, to catch up on social media and to prepare my W.I.P for my full attention come Friday night onwards when I start my holiday. Boy, am I going to spend some serious time in my writing room.

In the interim, I am eagerly awaiting the arrival of Bella Osborne's debut novel It started at sunset cottage which is published on Thursday, as well as Jo Thomas' The Olive Branch.

'Rhinestone Cowboy'

Have you ever been transported back in time by a song? I'm sure we all have at some point in our lives... I'd feel a little sorry for you if you hadn't. Well, it happened to me this week having taken a phone call to inform me that my grandmother had died. I was seated in the Library of Birmingham, currently my favourite building, waiting to attend my writers' group when the sad news came through. I was expecting the news so it wasn't such a shock but I wasn't where I'd imagined I might be taking such a phone call but given the nature and circumstance of her death - it was a pretty good place to be.

Afterwards as I quietly sat watching the world go by and absorbing the news a song burst into head - without warning, manners and no apparent thought. It simply appeared. Not a song my grandmother would sing or have chosen as it doesn't represents her personality in anyway, but it did signify a specific moment in time for me: Glen Campbell's 'Rhinestone Cowboy'. Any relative reading this has just grimaced and is still staring in horror at the screen at such an unlikely association. Hey, I'm just being honest, I can't help how my creative brain stores memories and images!  Anyhow the track burst onto my head transporting me back to being 6 years old, seated in Nan's 1970s lounge, where I'd sat mesmerised by the words/images on hearing this track for the first time in my life - on vinyl, I may add. The images and sensations were so, so vivid - as if I were actually back there. Anyway, for the rest of Wednesday evening the song was like a backing track swirling about my mind until sleep arrived.

Thursday morning after that initial 'eyes open and brain remembers the event of yesterday' shock - it started up again. I taught five lessons, conducted detentions and attended another writers' meeting with 'Rhinestone cowboy' blaring in my head.

Friday wasn't as bad, but still I simply had to silence Glen Campbell crooning in my head.

Music has always been a powerful stimulus in my life that I consciously use to my advantage while writing to create moods, situations and visual reminders... and sometimes it takes over of its own accord.

So, having no choice but to submit and welcome Glen Campbell as the new addition to my song box of memories I thought it best to reorganise my list of 'Desert Island discs'.

1. 'We love to boogie' - T Rex
2. 'Town Called malice' - The Jam
3. 'Dancing Queen' - Abba
4. 'Bring me sunshine' - Morcombe and Wise
5. 'I vow to be thy country' - a traditional hymn
6. 'Let it be me' - Everly Brothers
7. 'I want to hold your hand' - Beatles
8. Rhinestone Cowboy  - Glen Campbell (should you wish to hear the inside of my head for the last four days!)

Having regained silence, I'll return to my desk and begin my writing - chuckling every now and then because this surprise musical experience really hasn't been the memories of my nan that I'd have banked on!

Apologies to anyone that has spoken to me since Wednesday but now you know what was occurring in my head!

My writing room - one year anniversary

Ever wondered how productive having you own writing space would be? For numerous years whilst pitched in the corner of the dining room, with more traffic than Piccadilly Circus, it was a question I regularly pondered. I spent hours longing for my own space. Frequently, I'd moan about household distractions, constant interruptions or even the lack of respect that my creative corner received from others. Was it an excuse to avoid knuckling down to write? An excuse for my lack of focus? Or simply the truth expressed by Ms Woolfe - I needed my own room.

Today 3rd January 2015, I can answer those question honestly, with evidence to support*. Ms Woolfe was correct, I simply needed my own room. It wasn't plain moaning and griping but an honest desire that I knew would enhance my productivity.

Today is the anniversary of my writing room, the single spare bedroom that I emptied then quickly refilled with writing paraphernalia. A room that I have visited each day since taking ownership, a room that has become my creative space where I've managed to produce 213,704 words. I'll type that again, if felt good - 213,704 words. OMG! Who would have thought it? Those 213,704 words have been shared between novels, short stories, poems and blog updates but each and every one has sprung from my muse and my fingertips.

I always knew a writing room was going to be a significant advantage to me but having experienced the last year... I would suggest all would-be-writers start fighting for 'your space'.

I feel there is a psychology regards the writing room:

• I flip straight into writing mode on every visit.
• My work notes scatter the floor - on returning I pick up the idea thread as if I'd never left.
• A validation has emerged regards my work and efforts.
• Others have developed a recognition regards my efforts.
• Everything I need to write is in one space making the task feel easier.
• A level of professionalism has developed  - no longer my hobby.

Subconsciously I knew what I was missing, I needed a 'Narnia' - that special place where the magic could happen. In short, taking ownership of my writing room has possibly been the most significant step I've taken towards my writing goals.

Here's to a fresh writing year - fingers crossed that by 3rd January 2016 I'll have a lot more to celebrate!

* Yes, I'm a spreadsheet freak who writes down her daily output... but hey, it comes in handy for knowing your productivity x

My writing room...

Happy New Year!

A huge and heart felt thank you from me for following my blog. I wish you all a fabulous and sparkley happy New Year... I pray that 2015 is as creative and productive as 2014 was. Enjoy!

Merry Christmas to everyone!

Just a quick note to wish you all the Christmas you desire. Whether it be a crazy family filled one, an intimate quiet day, a party-all-day one or a cosy snuggled day with those you love - I hope all your dreams come true!

I have had a fabulous day so far, my hubby bought me a very special road sign which links to my current WIP... I absolutely love it. He's my hero, armed with a hammer and nails on Christmas Day, he's already hung it in my writing room. ❤️

Reading books for 2015

Many months ago I wrote about my rekindled love of reading. I've manage to read 27 novels during 2014 thanks to the Goodreads Reading Challenge, so my intention is to continue into 2015. Yesterday, accompanied with a large glass of vino, I took a leisurely hour to select 20 books from my little green bookcase - books that keep calling my name as they are long overdue to be read.

Below is my selection, not necessarily in order:

Choices for 2015...

I can't possibly predict the number of ebooks I'll read in 2015 so made sure I left plenty of reading room for the unexpected - but the first ebooks of the year will include:

A suitable young man - Anne L Harvey
It started at Sunset cottage - Bella Osborne
The olive branch - Jo Thomas
Anything and everything written by Helen Phifer - hopefully book number 4!

So here's to 2015, where I'm hoping to lose myself amongst the pages of these delights.

My Little Green Book Case... an old picture...
as now it has piles of books stacked
infront and on top!
.