Category: Novels

Just to say

William Carlos Williams an imagist poet wrote with great brevity and wrote a poem in note form called Just to Say .

I have attempted a poem in the same style
I asked you and you said

No you didn’t want one

Have been dropping hints 

About the benefits
I know we haven’t had 

a detailed discussion

I worry that hot water

bottles will burst
So I just want to say

I have ordered one

An electric blanket which

I hope will make us both
More comfortable 

Marking the page

​Out of my mind, onto the page,

Ideas stream, words just rage,

Calmouring for release, urging me on,

My love for life, drives the marathon,

Creativity tantalises, pushes the pace,

The need to transcribe, a daily race,

Wanting to engage,  to evoke a reaction,

Portraying all of life, immense satisfaction.

Ah Winter.

​Is winter here yet? 

Winter set into my heart many months ago

The freezing block rimed with sparkling ice

Growing bigger with my fountain of black tears

How I long for the heat of summer to release me 

To allow me from this numbed prison.
Is winter still here?

Since I felt your love slipping away from me 

I feel the coldness of the north winds 

Chilling my very bones as I continue in life as an automaton 

Paying lip service to my chores and responsibilities

Doing what I must with an absence of joy.
Ah, winter!

Today the season has caught up with my already wintery soul

Outside the grass is silvered and sparkling with frost

The sky is grey but under the clouds I see a golden glow

No significant heat to purge the voracious cold

But adding brightness to cheer and enough heat to melt the icy vapour
Ah, darkness!

You make the winter days feel long 

Daylight is at a premium the day skewed to favour darkness

This suits my feeling of melancholy my dissaffection with the world

Like an animal I can guard my hurts and hibernate

I need not shine a light on your lack of caring.
Hibernation is impossible life gets in the way

As winter approaches we live in close array

The darkness is a complication but our lives are full of light

In the cold midwinter, we stay cozy make things right.
Ah, winter

It is a season of more than dark and cold

Nuts and berries on the trees food for creatures 

The warmth of a roaring fire ,as we take our ease

The beauty of the virgin  snow on garden, tree and field

Logistics can be difficult but as humans we succeed.
Ah, winter

Have I lost your love

Let us sit by the fire and air our souls

May the ice on my heart be melted in the glow

Even if your love has disapated 

I need to tackle winter, love it and extoll.

Do National quirks put readers off?

​I have had reason of late to cogitate about the differences between American English and United Kingdom English. I am sure there are articles out there giving definitive views on the subject. I admit to not having done a search yet. A few incidents have set me wondering if the different word usages and terms become a problem for readers on the different continents. Do they actually turn readers off? I have read lots of books by authors from varying countries and personally I haven’t stopped reading any because of spelling variation or the odd quirk I have had to work out or look up. It has irritated me somewhat that ‘colour’ gets spelt ‘color’ and other words too are spelt differently to my instinctive way of spelling. Although not enough to give up on the story if I am gripped by the character and plot. That is my take, I would be interested to know other’s views. Do you consider the nationality and therefore the likely spelling and word usage when contemplating reading a novel, should writers take all national quirks out of their writing?
The specific incidents that got me thinking were:-

  • A beta reader from American did not understand the phrase – It certainly lit my blue touch paper.
  • Standing by the bar, I checked out the optics…..in England these are the measurements on bottles of spirits
  • I had a conversation with an American friend about my new kitchen and my new granite worktops ……ah countertops, counters in the USA.
  • Then there are all the others….garden….yard…..boot…..trunk….etc.

What do you think folks?

What makes your writing boring?

​What makes your writing boring 

Other than the obvious …you have no ideas

What if your tale is magical but your prose is in arrears 

What makes your writing boring 

The tale just comes out flat

People give up reading and settle for a nap

The pundits say too many filter words can slow  the story down

Take care with have, believe, and decide

Seem, can also make people frown

You can’t let your protaganist think 

Or even hear a sound, or notice or see or touch

It seems that you can’t let your protaganist, do anything very much

What makes your writing boring 

Perhaps keeping  your characters awake

If they snoozed through your story ,you wouldn’t  make these mistakes!

What makes your story boring 

So many little writing flaws

During the editing process you have to change the words on the doors

I would never cheat and lie

​I live in a life where love has gone stale

We have ceased trying and live without the detail

The film reel has become stuck 

Same old, same old, in a rut

Its not that we are not in love

Its just we are no longer collaborative 

Need excitement, validation, ego reclaimation

I know you care, we manage in formation

I would never cheat or lie

Wouldn’t hurt anothers eyes

Just need some fun and mystery

Add another dimension to my history

I just text  as we play

There is just so much to say

I sit with you but I am with her

Happy and content not miserable and blurred

I would never hurt you or jeopardise us,thats absurb

A space in fantasy is all I crave

Maybe I should stay and fix us, be brave

How can it end in tears

Ok sharing may breed feelings, but not affairs

I would never cheat or lie

Am I playing a deadly try

Playing with hearstrings that I cant manipulate

I just need to validate. 

Written with inspiration from the song In Anothers Eyes by Trisha Yearwood.  For Rick from the novel Converging Lives.

Vicarious Art

​Vicarious art, for most a pleasure

Joy untold,much to treasure

Subsumed in other’s  magical creations 

Teasing, relaxing a range of sensations

Amazement, awe and sometimes puzzlement

Sometimes art can seem like punishment

From early cave to modern construction

Art can thrill or cause a ruction

Consider art in all its forms

Each disipline has its norms

Realism, is something many treasure

Whilst  abstract, impressionistic can be harder to measure

Painting,music, dance, poetry or prose

Maybe, we only,like,what is under our nose

Plays, films, television 

Each art form has its vision

Vicarious art, we all indulge

Some try their hands down creative roads

Vicarious art to each their own

Will you step outside your comfort zone?
Apologies for the arts not mentioned specifically! 

The trials and tribulations of writing that book

​Putting the words on the paper

That was an easy caper

The flow of ideas

The protagoniststs fears

The plot that was not

The plan that was shot

The breaking of rules

Maybe created by fools

That was an easy caper
The novel soon grew

In chapters woo hoo

I wrote as I spoke

Great bursts sent to choke

Punctuation and grammar

Were  under the hammer 

My characters changed

Took liberties unarranged 

That was an easy caper
A book near complete

Wow what a feat

Joy unabated

Editing complicated

Frowns replaced smiles

Changes by the miles

I changed that last week

How come, oh bleep

That was a harder caper
Cutting and editing twenty times

Face now covered in big frown lines

Cover designed

Smiles realigned

Put it together

Loosen the tether

Off to be printed

Proof newly minted

That was a joyous caper
I had put the words on paper

In all a difficult caper

Now to relax 

Till fates circumstance

Showed me the promotional forargo 

If I wanted to shift the cargo

I needed to add some glitter

Use resources like Facebook and Twitter

This was a learning caper
Now my days spent tweeting

In between comfort eating

I write religiously on my blog

It’s become a full time job

My sales are hardly booming

It’s really quite confusing

Where do I find the time to write

I have to sleep some time at night

This is a time consuming caper
I am learning much

Wish I had a big crutch

More hours in the day

To write and make hay

Putting the words on paper

That was the easy caper

As for the rest

It’s like swotting for a test

Masses of work 

That you can’t shirk 

A sale makes a smirk

Could send one berserk

Not such an easy caper.