A DIFFERENT LOVE

Let there never again be that confusion
Where words be left hanging
In places that are dark

Let our life be quiet
The ‘chatter’ left in other times
It has no place here

Let my heart be always as sure
As you have proved yours
In your gentle, precise way

Let others wonder
How a quiet man holds
Safe eternity in his grasp.

Always yours, Beth xxxxx

Go With the Flow!

Writer's Block, Blank Page, The Horror call it what you like and whether or not you believe it exists is your prerogative  for me, it does. Of course there are the likes of Fredrick Forsyth who churns out at least ten pages a day and insists 'It's a job, that's all. Get on with it!' 

That's me told!

Still, being told off NEVER worked for me. I get that dreaded feeling  sitting there waiting for the muse to descend and allow reams of wonderfully flowing prose and precise believable dialogue to fill every last centimetre and nothing but nothing comes. 

Well nothing other than the urge to check Facebook every five minutes. Wow, I never knew a cat could do that - I must share it with all my friends - do I share this to fill my time or to make them as unfocused as myself? Mmm....to be fair they send me an equal amount of rubbish. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for every last video, picture, quote, status update, my current particular favourite is the one of a two year old dancing to Gagnam Style, and filled at least 30 minutes of otherwise wasted blank screen time. 

I love them all BUT, they are not helping as no sooner have I sent them to fifteen people and then read their 'funny' comments there's another one to watch and share and comment and so on and so on and before you know it it's pretty much lunch time (11.15 is 'pretty much' lunch time, right?) Then of course, as I go for a daily power walk after dropping off half pint, I need to shower and wash my hair obviously, don't want all my ex work colleagues to think I've turned into an unwashed crazy woman who sits rocking at her desk waiting for inspiration, stroking her kitten in yesterday's pants (not the cat...she always has fresh pants!). 

No sooner is all that done then it's time for a quick cuppa and off to pick up Number Five again. It's tough work but someone has to do it!

This has to stop - and stop it shall.

The power walk although time-consuming (i'm up to an hour every morning now), is a great way to get into gear, to clear your mind of everything from 'hysterical' quotes to friends disastrous (public) break-ups which actually BTW are really useful for writers so keep 'em coming (watch out for yourselves in my characters!) just don't expect me to comment so much...before 3pm anyway when my work day ends!

This month, yes I know it's only half way through (12th is almost half way through, right?) I have discovered a new way to get the juices flowing...oi oi...you at the back there, get your mind out of the gutter...I meant creative juices, obvs! And this is it......

Apart from the three books and four or five scripts i'm writing I have started another book...before you scream 'finish the others first' this is different. It's an exercise; a way to unblock the block so to speak a literary laxative if you please. 

This book has no plan, synopsis, character breakdowns, no plot, story no beginning middle or end. It is free-flow. I sit down straight from my walk (after a quick cuppa) and write whatever comes into my head. It gets me going, dispels the horror of the blank page and if I write nothing else that day at least i'm 500-1000 words further on with this 'non-book book' which, I have to say, is turning out to be rather good! Because I have nothing invested in it, i'm not stressed about it, not tying myself in knots wondering where the protagonist is going to meet her fate, I just write. I write and write and when I get to the bottom of the page I stop. By that time, without forcing it, ideas for my other stuff comes falling out on to the screen too. 

If you're a writer, give it a go. It's certainly more productive than sharing your/my comedic genius with one and all on a twenty minute rotation. 

Anyway...have to fly it's lunchtime...11.19 actually. What? I've written 600 words of my non-book and a blog! AND I now know, thanks to my morning mind-jog, what i'm writing in the precious time after lunch!

Breakfast Time

Like marmalade left to spread
Across the gleaming table when no one watched.
Boats drift in then out of it’s salty orange wake

it lifts, drips scatter, small shredded orange crumbs.

Curtains open around the bay, nets are filled
Seagulls fed.
The private view ends as the bright dish
looks down across the sea.

Order of Service

Grief hangs here now

With the unworn tie

Bought in the hope he’d be here

The date bought forward and the appropriate food.

It stares me in the face, the four familiar blister packs left still by the bed

Usurped in the last few weeks with ‘something for the pain’

And a chair for awkward visitors

Repeating that he ‘looks peaceful’

odd that, as he never was.

It takes the place of thought

invades the writing of lists

Once filled with biscuits,

meals for two and full fat milk.

It holds me amongst the pillows, the dark

Then dreams replace It with him

Walking our veiled girl proudly toward her future.

And mine, alone.

It holds my shaking hand as he should have

As I check the cars

The flowers, the order of service

He was right to go for the cheaper suit.

‘Daft to pay big for something you’ll just wear once’

New 'wet' Dawn

Well, that was a wet and windy start to the day...and that was just in my house...boom boom!

IS IT WRONG TO BE SO HAPPY THAT YOUR CHILD HAS STARTED SCHOOL?

Firstly, apologies for being somewhat absent of late. Summer holidays, half pint starting school, manicures, you know what it's like!

But here I am, sat at my desk and having started my FULL-TIME writing malarkey in earnest. I am giving myself a daily pat on the back for reaching my self-set target of at least 1500 words each morning. Whoop!

It's a very odd feeling though. For twenty five years (on October 10th) I have been a mum and when I haven't been at home with babies or pre-schoolers I have been out earning a wage, actually being paid - real money. Here I am now, no little people at home and no wage coming in and, god only knows why, I am happy!

I now it's a long journey and hard work to get a book written and then a harder job convincing a publisher to buy it. A work of faith on both sides, but if I don't write the book I don't even have the chance of receiving a rejection letter and will never know if my writing is good enough.

I was interested, this week, to read an interview with JK (all hail) Rowling, where she expressed her own fears about not being good enough and people not really getting her adult fiction 'A Casual Vacancy'. Harry Potter was rejected by something like 13 publishers and she just kept going. I am praying that I have that kind of staying power!

A great part of this new 'job' of mine is that reading, something I once felt a selfish pleasure, is in fact a vital part of my day....another whoop! So mornings are spent producing the word count and afternoons spent getting lost in somebody else's words, heaven!

I'm off for a little read now - finally got round to reading the pile of books stacked 'not-so' neatly by the side of my bed! I did mention reading always been a guilty pleasure and there are only so many baths one can take in a day!!

MAD FANTASY

I could enjoy going mad

Smilingly sliding into my immoral pit

With each slice of sanity disappearing

Another care

My hair

Filthy and shameless

I’d eat shit and spit

Out the bits, which, for whatever reason,

Displease my madness.

I’d wear my skirt so short

And my stockings would be wrecked with holes, some hopefully stitched

Stares as I stumble, mindless and happy

Down the street, are distorted in my madness and perceived as desire

My twisted red lips promise something other than decency

‘I wouldn’t mind having sex in a toilet’ they say

‘smeared with other people’

Some dirty, drunk stranger would suit my demeanor now

And we’ll fall out of our cubicle with a post coital can of tenants to share

But not our names.

Or I could call myself Sue

I could quite enjoy going mad.

You?

GREY MATTER

Sledgehammer

Chisel maybe.

Anything cruel, hard.

Just here - if you could just break my face

Loosen off the ivory grip.

Can you slide your finger between incisors

And yank down the flesh?

Ugly and uglier to come.

Hideous words will dribble out and punctuate pathetic tears.

You can disregard the tongue and heart; they’re useless now and have been no friend to me.

So, trying not to make me gag

(even in bitterness I have my conventions) onwards and I feel upwards is the proper course

Here you’ll find the messy truth of the grey matter

And somewhere there amongst the floodlit brilliance and the shopping lists and amidst the lovers and the liars you’ll find your place,

Where you fit in to this ‘piece‘ ‘bit’ ‘bird’ ‘tart’

And of course you do.

Sorry to fuck up your clean shirt,

I can be ‘such a bitch’

Funny that!

First Width

Clinging to the mock-mosaic edge

A first width now behind him,

his glinting squints framed with wet pyramid eyelashes,

'I did it, are you proud?'

And here it starts.

Brothers who once swam for certificates, for badges

now plunge, bomb, 'tombstone'

from rocks, from cliffs, The Harbour Arm

who jointly laugh at my admonishments, drink beer in the sun and fall asleep on inflatables.

With one swift kick his factor 50'd legs make their way back across to woops and cheers.

'I'm just like the boys, Mum, aren't I?'

Twenty odd years fall away,

'Yes' (God help me) 'you are!'

Gone South

Heavy fruit hangs low
On tired bough
Heated and over-ripe
drops to sun scorched grass
Where scavengers reap the last rotten remains.
Filled buckets and jars in younger days,
made pies, hay.
Bored now of sweetness
Or it bored of me
As I went South this summer.

BROAD BACK

Late afternoon
Gentle warm waves wash over brown feet, leaving temporary droplets behind on water-proofed shins.
No awkward stoop, arm held shyly across belly
No glances, envious, to take in other unknowing beauties
or regret for things lost
for they never were.
A heavier hip, thigh, a broader back, shoulders to carry, have carried babies, children
Now men.
Grateful, now, for the bits that work - have served me well

This chest, warm womb, broad back. 

Petition delivered to Downing Street

Delivering the petition

Cabinet re-shuffle

Ain't This The Truth!?

No More a Virgin

Hubby and I are no longer festival virgins (or the biblical kind....I've mentioned the five kids, right?). 

Thursday last week we headed off to the Hop Farm Festival near Tonbridge in Kent. Arriving in beautiful sunshine and met by all the other early arrivals with huge smiles and eager anticipation. The three night break away for us was enough to be excited about (half-pint is only four so we were looking forward to a lie-in or two!) the line-up however had us so wired we couldn't stop grinning inanely at each other. 

My other half is a major Bob Dylan fan and, don't shoot me, I am not. However I was so chuffed for him to be able to see one of his all time idols that I was looking forward to him headlining on the Saturday night too....Bob Dylan that is, not my husband!

One or two of my favourites were playing too and on Saturday afternoon I got myself positioned right at the very front of the crowd and was thoroughly overwhelmed with 'Love and Affection' when the lovely Joan Armatrading played some of her most famous songs - 'I Love it When You Call Me Names', 'Drop The Pilot' and 'All The Way From America'. Fabulous!!

There were so many moments of brilliance over the weekend that I can't do a complete roll-call but special mentions should go to: Randy Crawford, Billy Ocean - who was just unbelievably brilliant and had the whole crowd dancing and singing - I didn't realise I knew so many of his songs! The Stranglers certainly didn't disappoint when they sang 'Duchess' and 'Peaches' - the soundtrack to my teenage years along with Gary Numan and Cars!

Bruce Forsyth was a random addition to the line-up and if hadn't been for the fact that Joan was following I would have disappeared off to join the long queue to hell (more of that later). However, as soon as Brucie set foot on the main stage the love from the crowd was palpable - everyone willing this veteran entertainer to be his very best on his festival debut - he's no longer a virgin either! 

Three Blind Wolves are worth you-tubing if you get a chance - three lads upfront with guitars and great tunes and a drummer with a penchant for undressing! Very very entertaining! I'll definitely be getting their stuff on to my ipod (God i'm so 21st century!)

The melodious voice of Damien Rice cut through the night like a knife - the crowd hanging on his every poignant word - just one man a guitar a huge stage and a throng held in his songs - I've loved him for 10 years and have seen him a couple of times live in more intimate venues and was worried that this event wouldn't have the same atmosphere for a performer like Damien - I was so wrong - he was just magical.

Suede ended the festival on Sunday night. I have never been a massive fan of them before but, my word, I am now. What a performance! They played all their big hits and played them fantastically with all the energy and passion of twenty year olds!

For me though, the very best performance of the whole three days was from 'Bellowhead'. I'm ashamed to admit that i'd never heard of them before and again was only down the front by the railings waiting for Joan! 

The Aforementioned

A band of amazing musicians with fiddles and saxophone, penny whistles and a tuba to name a few. Such an amazing and fun set. Traditional British folk songs with a modern and sexy twist. If they were for hire for New Year's Eve I would most certainly book them.....somehow with their  talent I have a feeling I would be saving for a very long time before I could even afford the penny whistle solo! At one point three of the boys came to the front of the stage and performed a song, which if memory serves me right, was called Hop. They did a little jig involving jumping and encouraged the crowd to join in. Always being one to do as i'm told I joined in most enthusiastically. Jumping too much probably as, some minutes into my wild abandon, I felt something around my ankles...yep, you guessed it....I jigged right out of my pants!.....I should add that, mercifully, I had put them on OVER my leggings (in an attempt to keep the leggings up! major wardrobe fail!) Anyway, I styled it out, pulled them up with haste and continued to dance clinging desperately through my dress to the aforementioned undergarments!!!

The music at The Hop Farm was diverse and thrilling having something for just about everyone. It was well organised and on the whole the staff were friendly, However, I did get the feeling when moving around from the main arena to the campsite that I was being marshalled around a POW camp. The constant bag checks and being ordered to throw away open bottles of water as you can't take the from one place to another was pretty jarring after a while - especially as the MC for the event constantly reminding the crowd to keep hydrated - I would do Dave, but I have just thrown away my third almost full bottle of water for the day (£6 worth....I thank you!)

Essentials for toilet trip!

Now....The toilets - I know everyone warns the virgins about these but Christ on a bike, I never expected anything like it! On the second morning I went for the obligatory early morning pee and after queuing for ten minutes was scared that my kidneys were about to implode, finally stepping up into the dark plastic box and dropping my drawers (a theme emerging here!) I genuinely gagged and  fell out of the cubicle with the sting of acrid tears falling down my face! From that moment my subconscious had a very strong word with my bladder and bowel, urging them to refrain from needing abluting for the next two days! There should have been at least double the amount of toilets and toilet cleaners....gross!

And.....the showers.....a festival with thousands of campers and ......14 showers....that's right....14 showers! Which were closed from 12 lunchtime to some random time in the evening then opened for a short while (begrudgingly) and then closed between midnight and 6am.....not enough Mr Power....nowhere near enough!

Finally....my very last complaint....for those people who brought their own food along there was nowhere for the to wash up dishes apart from the sinks next to the toilets and the open urinals where people were washing fecal matter from their hands and also having to brush their teeth.....not good, especially as there were many small children enjoying the festival. Generally I can put up with this kind of thing....if i'm not paying a handsome price for the privilege! Come on....sort it out!

Bellowhead

All in all though a bloomin' fantastic weekend! And, Bellowhead, if your ever in Hastings and fancy a cuppa.......!

The Hook

''To be or not to be? That is the question.Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer....'

David Tennant as Hamlet

As an opener they don't come much better than Hamlet. Although 'If music be the food of life, play on give me excess if it' is a pretty close second. Shakespeare had the whole first paragraph thing nailed. Centuries ago he knew, instinctively, that if a writer doesn't hook the reader within those vital few words she is danger of being lost forever.

As Bill's brilliance knocks on the door of my sub-conscious with every word I write I question myself, 'Is this boring?' 'Have I just lost another precious reader?'...shush, that was rhetoric!

There are some amazing openers, those already quoted above but how about 'Marley was dead, to begin with'. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. Or, 'It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.' 1984 By George Orwell? Both suggesting intrigue and grabbing the reader very firmly by the short and curlies from the very first sentence.

Writing my own novel I have absolutely no idea how i'm getting on. So I set myself a challenge, I read as many first paragraphs as I could manage in one hour and then went back to my writing from some weeks ago and took a long, hard and analytic look at my own. Wow, you really could waste some paper in this game....thank the lord for technology and the delete button!

Anyway, several attempts later and this is what I have come up with as an opening paragraph.....

'As a child I wondered how someone could slip off the edge of the world, no note. How they could be there and then not. Be missed, then not. How the world you lived in just yesterday is unrecognisable today. The wound they left heals and no one mentions them again. At least ‘no one in their right mind’.

Would you be lured in and want to find out what is happening?

Choice-Words

I have just received an email from a girl (now woman) that I went to school with nearly thirty six years ago and became close friends then sadly drifted in our 20s.

When I told her that I was now writing and that I have had some poetry published recently she said "I'm not surprised, you always were creative, I remember that poem you wrote 'REFLECTIONS'." I couldn't believe someone not only remembered  that I used to write poems but could remember one of them clearly enough from circa 1980 to remind me about it! It just goes to show the power of words. I wrote something all those years ago that resonated with her and her teenage life which has stayed with her ever since, indeed, she told me that she had used the first lines in a letter to someone many years later!

I'm re-reading 'To Kill a Mockingbird'. Some of those lines are so precisely etched in my memory that Jem and Scout's scorched days brought back so clearly my own sweltering classroom where we took turns to read their adventures aloud. Just the names; Jem, Scout and Atticus are enough to conjure up the heat of unnecessary school blazers and BO.

Whoever had this copy from the library before me seems to have a shared love of the words and phrases used by Ms Lee, as the borrower has underlined many throughout and far from being irritated at someone's graffiti I am fascinated that, on the whole, they are the same ones that I remember being mesmerised by. I'm fairly sure that this author understood completely the power of her words, but not all of us do. 

At this point I would love to insert that long-ago penned poem that my lovely friend remembers so clearly - unfortunately I can't remember much past the title! However, I do remember another scribbling, written after someone else's words had completely devastated me! 

'Anoint'

Kissing my neck so sweetly

You pushed me through your door

And crushed me so completely

Another of your angels crashes to the floor

Free-falling, Earth-bound

I crack my head on the bannister

Then realise your words were brimstone

When I’d thought they were lavender.

I suppose what I am trying to get at is the power of words, our words. How we talk to others and how we hear what others say to us. In writing I choose my words carefully I just hope that I am as careful when I talk. Written or spoken words can either delight and entertain, congratulate or commiserate or degrade and destroy! Of course, for story-telling purposes go wild with your words but when dealing with the fragility of the human soul, especially those you love, tread lightly, speak kindly. 

I know the adage 'actions speak louder than words' but I disagree. But then i'm a writer not a mime artist!!

Writer's Retreat

My Own Writer's Retreat. Ok, well not my actual own personal one!

This is where I will be spending the Summer though! Beautiful house in South West France. Bliss. Many happy holidays have been spent there. This could very well be the last one though as my folks are selling up!

It has to be said that it is stunning. The peace is like nothing I've ever experienced and the skies at night - wow -  a blanket of stars!

This year we will be truly making the most of it, building dens for half pint, swimming in the gorgeous pool, BBQs 'til the sun goes down - the food not our bodies...factor 50 is the order of the day as it does get very hot indeed.

So, just in case it sells quickly, we intend to enjoy every minute of our holiday this year and celebrate it in all it's wondrous beauty! 

I still remember vividly the first summer there with my older boys some years ago. As my mum pulled off the road and started to head up a dust track a tiled rooftop could be seen amidst the orchard, slowly as we approached the rest of the house showed itself. Me and the boys couldn't believe our eyes! We thought they had bought a cottage - not an enormous farmhouse with years of adventure promising itself in the barns and fields.

Whilst dreaming of my holiday and already tasting the local wines in my imagination I am feeling that dread of having to say goodbye to the place maybe for the very last time.

However sad, I have to say thanks to my mum and dad as I now have that feeling that life is for the taking and there is adventure around every corner. 

They bought the house the year my dad turned 70 and although my mum speaks French my dad, not for the want of trying, doesn't! How brave, then, of him to trust to the pioneer spirit and give it a go! Giving us all such great times and memories! 

I think the one that will go down in history is my dad (now 81 , left) walking up the very long dusty track to the house and striding, wordless and fully dressed, straight down the steps and in to the pool! 

Dad....you are amazing....mum (little girl on left of B&W photo)....you hold us all together. 

Cosmic Ordering

When you have a wobble, doubt your own decisions, or question your ability you need a word from the Cosmos....I got an email: 
My lovely husband even set up an email account on behalf of the Cosmos!










From: thisisthecosmosspeaking@hotmail.com
To: ms.bethdavies@hotmail.co.uk
Subject: Better Believe (see what I did there?)
Date: Wed, 16 May 2012 11:19:54 +0100

Hello Bethan,

The Cosmos here. 
I have been watching you for some while now (mostly because you are the most beautiful thing down there).
It has come to my attention that you are very, very talented. Your style of writing, whilst clearly crafted, appears effortless & is a joy to read. Your characters are believable and storylines are genuinely heart-touching. I cannot wait until December, when I will be able to read back over the entire manuscript. You are absolutely following the path I have determined for you; you must continue the journey. For my part - if you will promise to stick to it, I will promise you success. See it as a joint enterprise, if that makes it less daunting. You are not on your own. Remember that.

Eternal love,

The Cosmos.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ain't love grand!x

THOUGHTS PLEASE...

Morning all.

My first week as unemployed....I mean freelance, and I've been nursing a sick child followed in quick succession by a sick husband (not just his sense of humour this time). So I haven't done exactly what I had intended so far. That said, I have re-written an original synopsis, completely changing the plot and by doing so have made the whole thing easier to write....I hope!

I've also been researching 'online presence' and the need for it these days. I was aware, obviously, that anyone wishing to promote a business from Marshmallow Toaster to Martian Trapper needs to be seen in cyberspace. However, I wasn't aware that it was necessary to have more 'white space' on one's blog or put the important stuff down the left hand column. Man, I'm out of touch!

      Apparently the whole blog should avoid busy patterns (whoops!) and too many 'non-specific' images (what's non-specific about Alice In Wonderland, eh? Eh?). So this is where I had to question my motives here. Yes, I am now a freelance writer (I am cringing too thank you....I know how this sounds to the experienced scribes out there!!) but this blog was not started to promote a product but my 'Manifesto for a Brilliant Year' which, if you haven't read it please go back to the beginning as it will make more sense of the rest of this blog!!

Basically,the premise of the blog is to focus myself and to move myself off the sofa! Last year was rubbish and I was determined that this one would be so much better. And, I have to say, that so far this year has been bloomin' marvellous. There is something very scary about announcing ambition and intention, but in my case it has been the best thing I have ever done. I have had so many times in the past where I have just given up at the first hurdle and convinced myself that I am useless and wonder why I am kidding myself in to thinking I could be a success at anything but, these days, I know I just have to carry on as I have publicly announced my intentions! If I get knocked back then I have to pull myself together and try again.....I have NEVER done this before EVER. It is an absolute revelation to me! 

This blog is a very personal attempt at improving my life and getting it 'out there' does not allow 'failure' to be a part of my Brilliant Year. My dilemma is, now that the writing part is slowly taking off, and this is where I need your thoughts, the blog may be visited by prospective agents (indeed it already has) and publishers etc. Will they want to see an all singing advert for my professionalism in creating a 'white-spaced, non-specific image free' blog? Or will they want to see me making my way through the Manifesto in my personal style, which for the record does NOT mirror my novel-writing style. I enjoy writing this one for the interaction with those of you who are lovely enough to comment on here and who send me such encouraging emails.

Maybe I should carry on with this blog and set up another purely with the intention of selling myself? (I am not knocking this notion, I am fully aware that if you want to be bought you have to sell yourself!). 

I would be really grateful for your thoughts.

And finally....the agent emailed me again and said she thought I was '...so talented that she would love to read anything I have!'...yeeeeha!! And that was the first agent I had sent anything to...whoop!

Looking forward to your thoughts!

Wow, Great Timing!

That's it. My last day as an employee done and dusted! It feels very strange indeed. Since handing in my notice I have been lying awake at night wondering what the hell I thought I was playing at. My tummy has been doing somersaults and all I could think of was....what if I've made the biggest mistake of my life? What if I disappear behind a pile of badly written, rejected manuscripts? What if I am totally delusional and that my negative little inner voice was right all along? What if.....?


Well, to some extent, I have just had these questions answered....and before anyone says 'it could lead to nothing' I do realise that, however the most wonderful email came for me today. An agent wants to see the rest of my manuscript, with a view to representing me! She might hate it, on the other hand she might just love it. The important thing is that those first three chapters were good enough to not get rejected and bearing in mind that this is the first time I have sent anything to an agent I feel really positive about my decision to give it a go. I feel as though this small affirmation really couldn't have come at a better time. I am so excited....am I waffling?

My hubby has gone off with half pint to buy something bubbly - i'm not celebrating my success just yet, just my not stumbling at the first post!


I said 2012 would be brilliant! Start believing it!


Woooohooo!

Let the Mockers Mock!

Back from my holiday in France where we gorged on delicious French cheese and local wine I am now raring to go...back to France mainly! We had such a lovely time even though the rain was pretty much incessant and there had been a little visitor before our arrival of the mousey variety...no I don't mean Mavis from Coronation Street!

So what now, well for those of you not on Facebook, the exciting bit of news is that I have given up my job to concentrate on writing! I know, I know...I can hear all the established writers laughing that I won't earn any money for years if, indeed, at all. However the truth of the matter is that I was only working part time and not earning very much. If I had a fantastic highly paid career maybe I would have been a little more cautious...although maybe not. After all, I am 47 now and have five children. I have either always worked or been at home with small children. With my youngest about to start full-time school I genuinely feel that this is my time to have a go. It may have been fishing, cooking, jam-making, a whole world of experiences are out there waiting and as I said at the beginning of this year....this one is MY YEAR and is going to be blooming marvellous. I promised myself that I would live outside of my comfort zone (ie not on the sofa) and that I would achieve or at least be striving to achieve some of my dreams. And to that end here I go!

I have so many positive reactions to my leap of faith that I almost feel I owe it to everyone to do the very best I can, which I most definitely intend to. I have never made big announcements before, I have just made lots and lots of silent promises to myself that I have never kept. By making a song and dance of things I am hoping it will keep me to resolutions and make a huge success in my efforts.

I am not expecting to become the next JK Rowling, Sophie Kinsella or Joanne Harris but I shall be found in my office writing as my job Monday to Friday (occasionally popping out for air and the odd cappuccino!). 

Let the mockers mock, I genuinely couldn't care less. I've done my share of scrimping and scraping and know what it's like to have no money left from my wages once the bills are paid. I can live on far less than we will be living on - when my older sons were small and I was a single mum I survived on less than £80 a week! 

Hopefully by this time next year I will have a finished product, maybe even an agent...who knows? What I do know is that I will enjoy getting up every morning knowing that I can sit at my desk and get lost in a few hours of writing. I can't think of anything I would rather be doing!

Finally, a big thank-you to everyone who has been so positive!