Contest Entry - Breathe Deeply Dear

My mother is visiting at the moment, it is an emotional time because Dad has been moved into permanent care. I will get to visit you all soon.

I will share a link with you. It is to a 500 word contest about memories. This is my entry.

Breathe  Deeply Dear

Catch you later.

Working Weekend and Your Opinion Please

My weekend has been a busy one with regards to my writing.
I am pleased to announce I have finished my first draft of Chewy Chester Meets Wallis Worm (see Nissi Peters).

I am going to edit and send it out to agents. I will then see what the response is and if it is negative, I will self publish. I think the book has something to offer the little ones. I read a snippet to a young boy and the response was 95% positive. He wanted more pictures, so I have drawn some.

Ripper, My Love is undergoing changes. The main manuscript is staying as third person, but I am converting it into first person to see how it reads. I am amazed at how alive the story has become, for me I love reading about Kitty, but now I AM Kitty. I can 'feel' her emotions far more. Yet something is not right.

Here is a snippet of the original and the new up to the same point in the story. I wonder which one you prefer? Please leave your answer in the comments.

The Walk Home

Whitechapel, London 1888

Kitty shivered from the chill in the damp night air. She pulled her shawl closer around her neck and shoulders. She lost her balance and reached to steady herself against the wall.

If anyone had me they would have thought I had helped myself to the ale at Ma Parker's.

The further down the passageway she walked, the more pensive she became. Unconfirmed rumours circulated about a murdered local woman, it was the only conversation she had heard all day, and it sickened her. On every corner, groups stood and discussed the event. It was too close to home to be ignored. The knot in her stomach confirmed she had made the wrong decision to take this shortcut. The clip of her heels echoed as she hurried along the alleyway. Dark shadows moved around her, they were everywhere; they did nothing to help her nerves. Even the one of  her petite figure lurked tall and sinister. She would have preferred a real companion to escort her, not those who added to her fear. Every shadow that flitted across the brickwork made her glance over her shoulder. Nervous adrenalin kept her moving forward; it was too late to turn back.

Without warning someone grabbed her arm

 ***********************************

The hairs are on the rise along the back of my arms and neck. They prickle under my gown and damp air seeps through my shawl. I should have worn a heavier coat. What a mistake this is, a silly mistake. To walk down Potts lane in the dark is foolish route home, even the gas lamps add nothing to the sinister ambiance. They look down at me like the crows that peer with mean eyes from the trees at the cemetery. I left their creepiness not half an hour ago, and now feel that same sensation; a tingle at the base of my neck. Ten large shadows are staring at me. I know they are harmless, but my brain has failed to communicate this to my legs. They are shaking. The cobble stones are slippery and the walls are running with algae slime. An oval roof of dark brick makes it feel like a claustrophobic hole. Enclosed and suffocating. It is too late to turn back. The two lead sticks I am walking on refuse to move any faster. Arthur is waiting to start my reading lesson and I am an hour late. He will sulk, I hate it when he is moody. There is no reasoning with him when a dark mood hits him. He will understand that I dallied at mum’s graveside, but will still make me feel sorry for him. On hindsight I should have gone tomorrow morning, and carried out my deliveries this afternoon. Well no going back now and it was worth it, I had so many thoughts to share with her today. I know she listens, she has listened to me for five years, I feel it in my heart. Dad laughs but I have heard him talk to her when he thinks I am not listening.

Foggy light is making me squint, I can only see a few yards in front of me. My vision is usually perfect, but right now I have an understanding of how a blind man must feel. The mustard haze from the gas lamps is buzzing with moths. I hate them when they flap around my head. The bat that swooped around me earlier is another flapping animal I can do without on this journey home. It made me jump and slip, my ankle feels a little sore; my button boots are not made for long walks. My gown is probably ruined. When I hit the wall the slime would have marked the velvet. It feels heavier so I know the hem is sopping wet. What on earth possessed me to put on a good outfit to sit by a graveside is something someone else will have to answer, for I cannot. For once in my life I feel sorry for myself. I am miserable and cold. August feels like November. London rarely sees the sun. What I would give to feel one small ray on my face. It would be worth an outbreak of freckles.

The alleyway is getting darker. All day long I have heard nothing but people surmising about the latest news, a murdered prostitute. She was a local woman. It is so close to home, too close to home. What if the murderer is lurking around?

What the-?

******************* I would like you opinion, so please leave one. Grammar errors, big typo's, love it, hate it, anything is useful.  It will help me spend my time wisely. Thank you.

Prepositions -Guilty as Charged

Aboard
Down below
In between
Around about
Beyond but beside
Plus underneath
Following from outside

All of the above are a few prepositions, words we should never end a sentence with (whoops).
All of the above are a few prepositions. These are words we should avoid adding to the end of a sentence.

What are prepositions?

An English preposition is a word that usually appears in front of a pronoun or a noun. The preposition will express a relation with another word or an element within a sentence. Also, prepositions will link elements of a sentence together.
My weak area of writing is ending sentences with prepositions. I am guilty of writing the way I speak.

My job this weekend is to edit my prepositions. (Yawn).



There are exceptions. Grammar Girl has a good guide.

I have found links to some informative sites that can explain or assist far better than I can.
Prep1
Prep2

Personally, I think if the story is strong enough, an editor will guide a writer in the right direction. Plus, rules can be broken if the sentence works.

Drum Roll...The Winner Is...

Well today is the day I give away a copy of Sticky Sandwiches, my second poetry book. This will be an unsigned copy as it is coming to you direct from the printers.

 Two hundred names were put onto a computer and printed out. They were cut into little rectangles and placed into the best plastic bowl in the house. I am a stylish woman, you have to agree.

DH was dragged from the aviary and asked to rummage amongst said papers. He did so with such enthusiasm they went everywhere. Holding back a tut-tut, I asked him to try again. This time we had success. So it is with delight I inform you that the winner is- Drum Roll-

KAREN GOWEN over @ Coming Down the Mountain !!!!

Now the story has not ended there. I bent to put away the plastic bowl, (one has to be careful with future antiques) when something caught my eye. A piece of white paper! 

Horrors- one name had fallen by the wayside. They had not been entered for a chance to win my book. So I have made a decision. Halloween is my birthday and I was going to have a give away on that day. A signed copy of From My Heart Inside My Head (my first poetry book). However, in view of the fact I let down one Important One they will receive it instead. My birthday will just slip by unnoticed.

Who fell onto the floor, slid amongst the dog hairs and dust. Wedged herself (yes, another female winner, sorry guys) by the freezer and shouted loudly...down here?

It was none other than-drum roll...

Megan Rebekah over @ ABlog About the Write Stuff!!!

From My Heart Inside My Head is a collection of my emotional poetry and ones about Cyprus. Sticky Sandwiches has a complete variety of my works. 

Karen and Megan: Please could you send me your addresses via my email page above. Thanks :)

 I do hope you enjoy your prizes when they arrive ladies.

Thank you all for being Important Ones and I am sorry I cannot reward you all ♥

New Blog and Celebration

I have decided to set up a Nissi Peters blog and keep this one as my Adult Fiction writing space. This way those who like Chewy can pop in now and then to follow his progress. Salli Joel, Kitty Harper and all the other characters from Ripper, My Love and Ripped Genes will stay here, free from kiddy noises.

Now the celebration. Did you notice I hit 200 followers today? Well I decided that to mark the occasion I would give away a copy of my second poetry book; STICKY SANDWICHES.

A follower of the blog will be selected at random from the list (by DH) and the winner will be listed in a few days.
I have shared one poem on Chewy's blog. I thought it was ideal to display on a blog geared up for children.

Illustrator Issues. What should I do?

While browsing the Internet, I decided to spend some time finding out more about publishing for children. More to do with the illustration side. An obvious project for someone writing a book with pictures for children. These are two things I found.

• My market age group is six to nine years old. (Now I know my genre niche).
• My illustrations will probably not be used. *Screech, rewind eyes and read again* (Yes you read correctly my precious Polly Poppy and Wallis Worm might never see the light of day).

To quote one site:

• Unless you are a professional illustrator, we do not recommend including illustrations with your manuscript; an art director, designer or editor will choose a trusted illustrator she thinks suits your work.
• Do not attempt to indicate where you would like your illustrations placed in your story, or what they should portray. This is the province of the art director, and/or the designer and the illustrator.

To quote another:

• If you're not a professional artist, don't try to illustrate your book yourself. If you don't have a particular illustrator in mind for your book, you don't need to find one before submitting your manuscript. Publishers often have illustrators they like to work with, and a filing cabinet full of the portfolios of many more that they can contact to illustrate your book if it's accepted. 

 To quote another:

Do I need to find an illustrator?

No, the publisher selects the illustrator. Even though picture books end up with text and illustration seeming to be inseparable, many of them start out as manuscripts, and stay in that form until after a publisher offers a contract to the author. Only then does the publisher select an illustrator, who will typically receive half of the royalties for the book. The publisher works with the illustrator through sketching, layout, and final illustrations, and may not involve the author much in the process. Authors are often unhappy about that, but it's done to let the illustrator develop his or her own vision.

 To quote an illustrator:
Now, if you include art in a picture book submission, the publisher will judge it according to the standards of the industry. That means, if you want ANY chance of being published, the art has to be of professional quality, good enough to hold its own on a bookshelf next to tons of other big books being published.

Now I am a little disappointed with this as you can imagine. DH said to self publish and use my own drawings. I am not so keen on this route, but if it means waving goodbye to my little friends I might have to consider it, I love them too much to push aside. They go hand in hand with the manuscript. I am not so sure I want to share half my royalties for pictures that I might dislike.

What shall I do?  
Do you know differently?






Sample snippets from Chewy Chester Meets Wallis Worm
Snippet 1
Snippet 2
Snippet 3

Meet more characters I have created for the book.  
Before they go into a file forever.

A Mixture of Things

Apologies for not being around for a few days. A viper bit our cat and we have been at the vets more than at home. She is recovering but it is going to take time.


I thought I would share with you something I have written out for myself to keep me focused and as a reminder while I write. I have it pinned to a board. It is snippets of information I have gleaned from other writers along the way.

Read, read and read your manuscript

Edit

Verbal Edits (read out loud)

Instinct

Spelling and grammar

Edit again and again

Revise, never send first drafts to agents/publishers. Unless you are...

Prepositions-never end with them

Execute ! they are not good news for publishers

Read, read and read aloud

Friends tell you what you want to hear. Warning!

Entrance your readers with a great hook

Cut out unnecessary waffle

Try different styles/genres

Perfect your manuscript and

See where you could add dialogue

Highlight ly words

Organise yourself

Write every day

Don’t ignore...

Tension and conflict are good

Emotion/ add emotion

Learn from others

Let others help

Show don’t tell



Thank you for the emails about Chewy books. I am now determined to finish the first one. The interest is growing, so it appears I have a new genre. I am also seriously considering using images I have created using paint. I am no artist and they are childlike scribbles. I will have to see. DH asked am I going to self publish. Not unless I have no other options. I would love an agent to fall in love with Chewy or Wallis. 

Meet Bella Butterfly, Polly Pansy, Stanley Snail, Flip-Flop Frog and Robin Redbreast. A few of the characters Wallis introduces to Chewy.

 

Meet Nissi Peters

Nissi Peters is the author of the Chewy Chester series for children.

Yes I am going under a pen name for my childrens writing. I thought long and hard about the name.

Nissi Anastasias was going to be my romance name. It is Nissi [the end of Glynis] and the name of my road. However a friend who has worked with children all her life, said Nissi is a name kiddies can say and it sounds fun. Mm, now for the last name, too hard for little tongues to get around.
"I want Chewy Chester Meets Wallis Worm by Nissi Anastasias"
So I thought about it over a glass of wine [required because of brain stimulation] then it came to me.

Nissi Peters

Chewy Chester Meets Wallis Worm by Nissi Peters.

Looks OK and it is a tribute to the man who feeds me. DH is Peter and our surname starts with an S[my].
What does this woman look like?
At the moment hot and sweaty as this pic taken from a friend standing on a table [don't ask] proves.

Seriously time to consider new photographs!

I will consider a new website for Nissi when the book is finished.




Welcome Nissi

Hi thanks for having me here today.

Nissi, when did you start writing books for children?

Honestly? I started my first one last week. I have always entertained children with stories since I was 14 years old. It started with Mr Bandana and my God-daughter when she was tiny. During my nursing years, I made up stories to calm children on the ward. I penned several but sadly a box of poetry and stories got lost during a major house move. I put my 3 children to bed with stories. They gave me a word and I had to base a  story around it for them.

Was Chewy one of those characters?

No definitely not. Chewy has kinda crept up on me. I was not expecting him at all. Now he is in my daily life.

How has it changed your writing life?

Well, I have to drink more coffee and I find myself looking at children playing in the vineyards a lot more than I had before embarking on this mission. I then find the need for a glass of wine [medicinal purposes to calm my nerves]. Where I was once a writer alone, I am now writing with companions. Working alongside my colleague Glynis Smy has its advantages, she always has chocolate for stressful moments. She is chomping on a bar as we speak, she is editing a novel and writing a second. Historical novels are her genre.
There is a woman at the same desk who eats fruity chews, she is writing a romance but we have not found out her name yet.

What is your hope for your new venture?

Like all writer's I hope to be published. I hope I can rise to the call and I hope DH forgives my absence from the TV chair beside his.
Do you have any advice for aspiring writers you would like to pass along?

Yes I have a personal mantra I would like to share...Get stuck in, write, read and enjoy the ride. Life is too short to wonder if you can do it, try and see.

Thanks for that Nissi. Do you have anything else to share today?

Well a little snippet of when Chewy and Wallis meet. Remember, this is a rough draft.
See Snippet 1
See Snippet 2

Snippet 3


"Your legs are too short", said a deep voice.

"Who's that? Is that you Mr Blackbird?", asked Chewy.

"Don't talk to me about Blackbirds, horrible creatures. They would eat me if they could". Said the voice.

" I'm sorry but I am far too busy to try and find out who is talking. You can help me if you want." Chewy dragged the metal bucket from by the shed to the hedge. He stood on it to make him taller.

The voice disappeared and he carried on working. He took his jacket off, it was hot work being a builder. He remembered the sandwich still in his pocket and the flask of water he had asked Mummy for at lunchtime. It was time for a sit down and a drink. He was thirsty.
He laid his jacket on the floor of the den and sat with his legs crossed. He was just about to take an enormous bite of his sandwich when he got the biggest shock of his life.
Through the door of his den, the guards had let in the biggest orange worm he had ever seen. The worm was no ordinary worm. He was nearly as big as Chewy. He wore a red waistcoat, a yellow scarf, one green shoe and top hat. They were covered in green, red and yellow star patterns. He peered at Chewy through green spectacles shaped like stars.

" Can't help you I'm afraid old chum. No hands you see."

Chewy stared up and down the worm's body. He chewed his sandwich and studied the creature. Sure enough he could not see any hands. He couldn't see any nasty teeth either, so he decided Wallis was a friendly worm.

What Would You Put In Your Den?

Chewy Chester Meets a Mermaid. This will be book two in the series that Madam Brain Cell pulled out of her red bag.

Why do I do it to myself? The Mermaid will be called Merry.

Looking ahead to book two keeps me focused on book one. Chewy Chester Meets Wallis Worm.




Chester has started on his den. I have a great list of things he will be sneaking into it for his comfort. Things he feel might come in useful. Of course Wallis is guiding him into trouble.

Want another snippet? Well to earn it you must leave me one item you would sneak into your den and why.

A mid snippet from the rough draft...

A big pile of sticks caught his eye. They were long and brown. He needed both hands to fit around them, but he could lift one at a time. The sticks were from the tree next door. Daddy wasn't happy about them falling over the fence. He said he didn't know where to get rid of them. Now Chewy had just the place.
For half an hour he pulled the pile of sticks from one place to another behind the shed. Then he pushed his back into the old thicket hedge. He pushed and pushed on the left. Then he pushed and pushed on the right. A big hole appeared but it was only big enough for one person. So he pushed back even more. Then to the sides until he had a hollow room big enough for four boys. He was not inviting girls they would want to put up pink curtains and add frilly things. This den was for boys stuff.

He pulled his gloves from out of his pocket. His hands were not cold, but the hedge would scratch him on his next job. He wanted to stand tall in his den. Up went his arms. Whoosh. Down came leaves and twigs.
"Hey, mind what you are doing", A Blackbird flew past his ear and out of the den. "Give me some warning next time. I was going to build a new house here for Mrs Blackbird."
"Sorry. Mrs Evan's hedge will be quieter." Called out Chewy.
 Up went his arms again. His arms ached at the end of the job, but he could stand tall in his den.

A Sparrow looked down from the shed roof.
"What are you doing boy?" she asked.
"I am building a new place to play. It is an outside room where I can eat my sandwiches". Shouted back Chewy.
"Sandwiches? Are they made from bread?", called down the Sparrow.
"Yes. They have crusts on. Mummy said crusts make your hair grow. Do you want some. You might grow long feathers. Here I will throw it over by the bucket." Chewy broke off a crust from a sandwich he saved in a bag. He had hidden it from lunchtime. Working outside makes him hungry and sitting at the table eating lunch takes too long. So he put one sandwich in a bag he had in his pocket, one he kept in case he found treasure when he was out walking. The other sandwich he ate so Mummy could see he had eaten a good lunch. Chewy was never sure why Mummy said that every day. He must eat a good lunch today. His Mummy's lunches were always good.

Talli Needs Our Help

My blogging writer friend, Talli has a task on her hands and I want to help. I am calling on The Important Ones to do what they do best and support another writer buddy.

This is taken from her blog...(Which is fantastic by the way)

On December 1, The Hating Game will be released as an e-book, ahead of its UK hard-copy launch in early 2011. I can't wait! I'm excited because anyone, anywhere in the world can buy a copy of the e-book version on Amazon. You don't even need to have a Kindle to read it -- you can download the Kindle software to your computer and read it that way. Plus, it will be very reasonably priced (likely well under a fiver in the US and the UK).


Here's where you come in. It's amazing how few copies it takes to rocket your sales rank on Amazon. Wouldn't it be incredible if people bought copies of The Hating Game ebook -- all on Dec 1 --- and brought it up the charts? If for one brief moment in time (or maybe more), The Hating Game was an Amazon Kindle bestseller?


So on December 1, I'm hoping you can all join me in a Blogsplash to help spread the word. If you sign up, all I ask is that on Dec 1 you post a short paragraph about what I'm trying to accomplish and The Hating Game blurb. I'll send you all the content so you just have to cut and paste! I am aiming to have one thousand bloggers take part (I know, I know -- but it might happen! I'm thinking big!) so anything you can do to spread the word would be FANTASTIC.
Please leave a comment with your email HERE ON HER BLOG or just email TALLI at: talliroland@gmail.com to take part.

A Snippet From Chewy Chester (For Alex)

 A snippet from Chewy Chester Meets Wallis Worm
 (Rough Draft)



Chewy has a real name. It is Chester Davies. When he was a baby he had a soft blue blanket when he snuggled it he liked to chew the corner. One day his Daddy called him baby Chewy and from that day Chester had a new name. Chewy Chester. Grandma, Nanny and both his Grandfather’s called him Chewy. When he started school, he forgot his real name and told the class his name was Chewy. Mrs Dixon his teacher said she was going to call him Chester because that was the name on the register. His teacher never breaks rules.

At first his friends all called him Chewy Chester, but now they just call out, "Hey Chewy are you playing football with us?" or “Hey Chewy, want a cookie?”

Chewy didn't mind what people called him, but he didn't like it when Mrs Dixon or Mummy called him, Chester Davies Junior in a serious voice. It meant he was in trouble.

Today his Mummy shouted in a loud voice, "Chester Davies come here now.

When he ran downstairs and into the kitchen where his Mummy was standing, he could see why she was angry. Chewy had not wiped his feet properly on the mat. He had run so fast from the garden straight into the house, up the stairs and into his bedroom, he forgot to wipe his feet. When he ran through the damp grass his green wellington boots got muddy and he left footprints everywhere.

"I’m sorry Mummy. I was in a hurry because I wanted to get something for my new den". Chewy was sad. He doesn't like making his Mummy angry.

His Mummy has pretty eyes and they sparkle when she is happy. When she laughs the skin around them creases up into little lines. When she is mad, her eyes look plain blue without the sparkle. He looked for sparkles but he couldn't see any. He stared and stared. Mummy then got a lot of lines on the top of her head, the big part above her eyes.

"You have been told time and time again about your boots young man. What are you supposed to do with them?"

Chewy looked down at his feet and thought for a moment. Then he remembered. "I must wipe the mud off by the back door and take my boots off. Then I must put my boots in the shoe cupboard. Sorry mummy, I forgot."

His mummy bent down and looked into his face. She had a few sparkles in her eyes now and Chewy was glad about that. She touched his nose with hers, then kissed his cheek.

"It is a good job I don't forget to cook your dinner or you would be hungry all day long. Now run along and remember the rules about boots in the house."

Chewy ran down the garden and past the shed. He had a busy day ahead. He was building a den and wanted to finish before lunch time. In his pocket he had put two toy soldiers. He wanted them to guard his new den just like the ones who guard the Queen at Buckingham Palace. He saw them when Nanny and Pops took him to a place they called the big city. Its real name was London and was very big.

"There you go men, don't let strangers come inside. This is your new job. "He placed the soldiers on a stone each, either side of where he wanted the entrance to be, the doorway to his secret hideaway.

Chewy loves his house and he really loves his garden. Their house has a big garden with a long path down the middle. One side was made tidy for his mummy to grow pretty flowers. On the other side daddy likes to grow vegetables for their dinner. At the very bottom of the garden there is a shed and behind the shed was left for Chewy to play whatever he wanted. It is an exciting place to play adventure games.This is the place Mummy says needs a good tidy up and made pretty. Daddy said it is a place for Chewy to play, he said pretty gardens were for girls to sit in and make daisy chains. A boy needed a place to run and investigate.

In his adventure garden he has a sandpit. His mummy made it for him last summer. It has a little wooden fence to keep the sand safe, and a big blue plastic cover to stop the rain getting in and washing the sand away. He was five in the summer and had a birthday party in the garden. He had a paddling pool and his friends came for tea. They made sand pies and splashed each other. His best friend Jack, got into trouble from his mummy because he took a bucket of water to the pretty garden. He swung it around and splashed all the mummies and daddies when they were eating birthday cake.

There is a big rope swing hanging off of a big chestnut tree. Chewy loves to swing high and try to reach the clouds.

His daddy brought the rope home from the shipping yard where he works. Chewy's house is near the sea. He can see where his daddy works from his bedroom window. His daddy works on a big ship, Chewy thinks he might be a pirate but he doesn't have a parrot or a patch on his eye. His daddy laughs when Chewy tells his friend, "My daddy is a pirate on a big ship".

Chewy Chester Meets Wallis Worm

If you read the last post you will know I am now writing a book for children. A children's book. Yes, a book idea for children was pulled out of Madam Brain Cell's Red Handbag.

Chewy Chester Davies is the little boy who now apparently meets Wallis Worm.

Oh, don't ask me where she gets the names from, her mind is her own, crazier than mine I can tell you.

Wallis loves stars. He has a red waistcoat with star buttons. A green shoe with yellow and red stars. A yellow scarf with green ones. He wears a red hat with yellow and green stars, it has a black border.

So there you have it, the title appears to be set. Chewy Chester Meets Wallis Worm.

Overloaded Brain Cell

What a week it has been for Brain Cell. It is on overload.

I have rewritten the opening to Ripper, My Love. This in turn has altered a few other things, [you know the domino effect these things have], anyway I am happy with the result.

Research for Ripped Genes is going great. I was sent a family tree link offer from a company, and they were sharing immigrant information videos from the late 1800's for the weekend for free. I waded through quite a few and gleaned little tidbits from them. It was fascinating and far better than paying $49 for the full thing. Free always makes it that bit more special, don't you think?

I wrote a few more words on [close your ears] Vanity Express [yuk, still hate this title].

NaNoWriMo planning was another project I played around with during my spare time.

While I was typing away, Brain Cell must have been bored and went off on a journey of its own. It tends to do that sometimes.

It came back with Chewy Chester Davies.

Who?

Well I said the exact same thing. It turns out he is going to be the POV for my children's book.

Come Back Brain Cell!

WAIT RIGHT THERE BRAIN CELL!

I do not write children's books.

What do you mean by-well you do now?

This year you have had me writing one novel, starting another, trying out first person for a 50,000 word challenge, writing a romance with a title I HATE and now you come at me with a kid called Chewy Chester?

I'm walking...no sorry Brain Cell you have pushed me over the edge now. Who is this Chewy anyway? Where does he live? Does he have any pets? Is Chewy really his name? What does his mum do for a living? Does...

OK, I'm in, I will write a children's book...one day. Happy? Good now go away while I read throught this manuscript I have been honoured with reading for an Important One.

Brain Cells...Who'd have 'em?


PS: If you have recently become an Important One, could you please leave your blog ID. It appears that Google does not always share the blog links when I click on your profile pics. I would love to visit your home of blogging too!

My First Ever Interview! * Gulp*

Mike Bailey over at Writing On The Wild Side is to be featured on New Book Blogger very soon. He emailed me to ask if he could interview me. Well, this is a first for me. I was honoured to be asked and wanted to share it with you. So off you go and read about this dotty Brit.☺

Writing Gives Me...

I have just been asked why I write by two girlfriends. My answer because I can and why not did not satisfy.
They cannot understand why after being rejected, I would want to continue writing. They ask, what does writing give me, that makes me so determined to carry on submitting and being rejected?

My answer?

Writing gives me freedom. It releases my soul. Words take me to places I cannot visit in real life.
I may not be very good at grammar, big words and expressive sentences, but I am good at writing something every day. It gives me discipline, skills to keep my brain active and knowledge.

Writing gives me connection. It connects me to The Important Ones (you). It takes me to websites, worlds of fun, humour, sadness and joy.

Writing gives me stability in my life. It gives me the chance to be me, him, her, basically anything or anybody I want to be.

Writing gives me hope. What does it give you?

Writing also gives me friends who give me awards!

Jules @ Trying To Get Over The Rainbow thinks I am a little funny and awarded me the You Rock award. Thanks Jules!

I have to pass this along, and would love to pass it along to all of you. However, I cannot and decisions have to be made.

Teresa Frohock over @ Helluo Liborum has some fantastic posts...She Rocks!