Time out…
***This was written two days ago, before the Big Hot Hit!***
Bit of writer’s block so down to the water with the kayak at 8.30AM.
A deserted beach.
Glittering: my fave time.
The vessel.
Debating which direction to paddle.
On this 15th day of November, I am prompted to write on Priorities.
Outside in our town garden, we have a long hedge of Pittosporum James Stirling. It is a wonderful noise break and privacy provider.
Felt the need to cook brownies but had no berries so threw in a whole packet of caramel bits by Neslé.
Played in my veggie garden and went shopping at the nursery where I bought basil, zucchini, white lobelia and white nemesia, common mint (must find pot to plant it in as it is feral).
While my book-sales take a Springtime nosedive, and I spend more time in the garden or working around the farm to worry about my failing writerly profile, or even how ill-disciplined I am toward my writing (to give myself a pat on the back: I did write from 11-12.15PM and reduced myself to tears as I wrote), I came inside this evening to find a link sent to me by my daughter for the most delicious and witty blog called Faux Fuschia.
I had crept into the laundry and divested myself of sheep-poo encrusted clothes, scrubbed my mud-filled nails, brushed out my seed filled hair and hauled myself to my wardrobe to climb into trackie bottoms and a polar fleece top. Flung tiny new potatoes on the stove to boil, made (gorgeous) mayonnaise and pulled Creole smoked salmon out of the fridge to eat tonight with white wine alongside. It’s all my aching hands, body and mind could manage.
And then I opened the computer and clicked on the link and stared at this divine woman’s slick home which was overflowing with colour, at her perfectly manicured nails, her beautifully applied lipstick and miraculously tied Pucci scarves – and thought how far removed from her I was at that moment.
That said; I vicariously enjoyed her perfection knowing I’m too tired to find my own. I also love that the Universe Talks to Her. To be frank it talks to me too, but it obviously says the same things in a different way.
BUT … I loved reading this blog tonight. It absolutely hit the spot because I needed the escape and sometimes things like picturesque blogs and Pinterest are the best medicine.
And tomorrow, if the Universe Talks To Me in the right way, maybe I shall pull out the gorgeous Gucci scarf my children gave me last birthday and try and tie it at least a little bit perfectly and maybe I shall even paint my toenails…
Posie Graeme-Evans is a rather special person to me – one of Australia’s top TV drama producers, her largest claim to fame is a much-loved TV drama based around a family of farmers who just happened to be women. Everyone in Australia knew McLeods’ Daughters and waited with baited breath for each episode.
Lately I had cause to pull out the WIP of The Chronicles of Eirie Book Four. I noticed something glaring, something I had never honestly thought about before. Alongside this WIP (I write in longhand and then transcribe, editing in the process), I laid the WIP of Book Two of The Gisborne Saga – different genre, different characters, different world.
This Friday, 10th August, and Saturday, 11th August, one of the five fantasy finalists from the 2012 Readers’ Favourite Book Awards (announced in September) will be offered free for Kindles as part of the KDP Select promotion on Amazon.
Oh, I WISH!!!
Cosmopolitan Magazine offer a cover-generator which is the best fun I’ve had in a week – the last being whale watching in the Southern Ocean 1400 kms off the Ross Ice Shelf last weekend. This weekend I decided I really must make my own headlines for a book that I adored writing.
Whilst away last weekend, I read an interesting article on solitude in The Australian Weekender magazine, by writer Nikki Gemmell. She says: ‘aloneness can have a vast restorative power … it’s a space for your mind to uncurl … in the lovely, glittery alone, a door opens to a possibility and it’s when novel ideas sneak in, titles roar with their rightness and surprising character arcs veer me back to excitement over a project that hasn’t been singing.’
