Nettie's Ramblings

Hollywood Screen Writing Techniques

2011-09-17T07:43:00.002Z

Using Screenwriting Techniques to Plot Your Novel with Catherine Ryan Howard

http://writing.ie/writers-toolbox/writing-better/potting-and-planning/66-help-from-hollywoodland.html

Seven Ways to Inject Suspense into your Novel

2011-09-10T00:41:00.003Z

Certain genres are renowned for being more suspenseful than others: horror, crime fiction and romantic suspense, but each and every book, no matter whether it's an Historical Romance or a Paranormal Fantasy, HAS to have a level of suspense interwoven between the pages!

All stories need to have this element, otherwise the reader isn't going to want to turn the page, it's as simple as that. So if you're interested in what makes a suspenseful page turner, then please read on...

Creating conflict in your novel is a given, otherwise there would be no story. If all went smoothly it would be as dull-as-dishwater, wouldn't it? They all lived happily throughout the story and ever after, yawn...

I've listed seven ways you can inject suspense into your novel:

1. Introduce your characters to their worst nightmare!

Find out about your characters beforehand. If possible, write up their likes and dislikes etc, and most importantly of all, find out what it is they fear most? What is it that causes their hearts to thump loudly, beads of perspiration to form on their upper lips, and the hairs on the back of their necks to stand on end? Find out what that thing or things are, and then give it to them, both barrels. For example, if your heroine is petrified of flying because her parents died in a plane crash, create a story where she HAS to take a journey on an airplane. If your hero fears water because he almost drowned as a young child, put him in a position where he HAS to get back in the water to rescue someone.

Introduce them to their worst nightmare and watch how they react!

2. Lull them into a false sense of security

When your character is really frightened of something, throw in a red herring. For example, if your heroine thinks she hears a noise outside, allow the plot to let her fears grow and grow. Let it be something quite innocuous, like the dustbin blowing over in the wind. Then, when she has reassured herself, breathing a sigh of relief, petrify her to death by placing a prowler outside her back door!

3. Throw the spotlight on at least two people

This might sound a little obvious, but for goodness sake, don't make the villain of the piece stand out a mile. Instead, have suspicion fall on at least two, possibly three characters. This will have the effect of your reader not really being sure until the end, when the other shoe falls! But, by all means, leave some clues and some red herrings along the way!

4. Pacing

Pacing is important to create suspense. In general, short, snappy sentences will enable the reader to race ahead so they feel their heart is beating in time with the frightened protagonist. Longer sentences tend to slow things down. You might want to speed things up for a car chase or slow it down for a love making scene. Imagine your novel as if you were watching it on the big screen. How would it be filmed? What would that particular scene look like to the audience?

5. The calm before the storm

Make use of the weather to good effect. Thunderclouds brewing overhead, often give the reader the feeling that something is about to happen [prophetic fallacy]. A bolt of lightening hitting the night sky, power lines down, a stranger at the door, etc. Think of the last time you watched a horror film; didn't the weather come into somewhere?

6. When all goes well, throw in a dead body!

When you hit a sagging middle of a novel, and you find there's no where to go, try throwing in a dead body. This doesn't necessarily mean that a character has to be killed off, although you might want to do just that, it can mean that something unexpected happens, such as the birth of a baby, etc. Something that injects a little more oomph into the plot!

7. Setting

Setting is very important as a tool to create suspense. What about that dark stone staircase covered in cobwebs? Or the elevator that suddenly stops in between floors? Choosing the right sort of setting can make or break a novel. And sometimes, placing the object or person the protagonist fears in an innocuous setting can make the story all the more horrifying.

Be cruel to your characters and watch them run for their lives!

Stepping Forward Into Recovery

2011-08-17T15:37:00.007Z

There's a new website called Stepping Forward Into Recovery

It's the website of Terry Davies from Gorseinon in Swansea who was diagnosed with manic depression, formerly known as bipolar disorder, at the age of 22, following a thirteen-week-stay in hospital. It wasn’t until he found out about self-management some thirteen years later that he was able to begin to turn his life around…

It wasn’t until his last hospital admission that he became so frustrated with the lack of support and understanding from the mental health services that he sought help. Discovering self-management and how it was possible to manage his condition himself. It was the first time anyone had ever told him that it was still possible to live a normal life.

It was a light bulb moment.

“Gradually he learned the tools and techniques that would enable him to manage his condition. These included learning to recognise triggers and early warning signs that might precede an episode of illness, then learning what action to take in order to stop it in its tracks. This might involve keeping a diary, implementing a coping strategy or getting support from other people with a similar diagnosis as himself.

Terry says: “Self-management isn’t rocket science. For me it was a revelation!”

These days, Terry is married to Miriam a senior midwife and they have three sons. He's a successful trainer and course facilitator in recovery-management, having over twenty years worth of personal and professional experience of mental health recovery. With roles such as NHS Expert Patient Coordinator, Self-Management Programme Coordinator for MDF Wales and Guest Lecturer at the Swansea University School of Health and Human Sciences to his credit, Terry has an abundance of proven experience of teaching practical recovery skills - to both staff and to service users.

Terry's unique advantage comes from the fact that he has been in the position of both service user, implementing recovery techniques and also the position of professional, assisting people with their recovery. Sessions can be delivered in a practical, hands-on workshop format or in a more formal lecture style, depending on the needs of your organisation.

Merthyr Tydfil: The good, the bad and the lovely...

2011-08-11T15:44:00.016Z

There's a great new Facebook page called: "You Know You're From Merthyr Tydfil When..." that has brought back so many memories from my contemporaries. The idea behind it is to discuss local characters, places and events from the past, etc.

The page has only been up for a couple of weeks and already has nearly a thousand members. Topics so far have included eating steam pies at The Station Cafe smothered with H.P. Sauce to favourite TV programmes from our childhood. It's triggered off a whole host of memories for me.

Times seemed much simpler then. During the summer months we'd pack some jam sandwiches and a bottle of squash and either go swimming in Pant local open air pool, or take a hike up the mountain and be gone for hours. We rarely went on expensive outings to places like Alton Towers. If we went to somewhere like Bristol Zoo or Barry Island, it was usually as part of a school or Sunday school outing.

We had some fantastic characters gracing the streets of Merthyr back in the day too. There was Georgie Onions, Ronnie Mouth Organ, Jezzie and Dai Bump [who both slept rough and ended up dying young. The latter was in my class in primary school and used to attend birthday parties at my home.] Most of the local well-known characters seemed to be men, although there was one lady who worked at an old fashioned cafe at the top of town. She was tall, Italian , swarthy-skinned and wore her hair bee-hive fashion. There were a lot of Spanish and Italian in Merthyr at one time running cafes and chip shops and some families still remain to this day.

There are so many cliched things said about Merthyr too, like when a deputy manager from Asda said they sold more white socks at the Merthyr store than any other it became dubbed, 'The white sock capital of the world!'. According to The Sun, Merthyr is 'The sick note capital of Britain!' and Tenovus the cancer charity says we have, 'The most adult smokers in Wales!'

Perhaps these stats are true, but what about the great and the good that evolved from our home town like designers, Laura Ashley and Julian MacDonald; boxers like, Howard Winstone and Johnny Owen; or what about the fact that Iron from Merthyr Tydfil was transported all over the world and we have a lovely castle and museum connected with all of that?

I love my town and its people.

I know I'm from Merthyr when complete strangers in the town talk to me like they know me. I don't know many places as friendly as Merthyr. And another thing...how many other people can say they went to school in a castle, unless of course they're Harry Potter!

Roll of the Dice

2011-07-17T22:11:00.009Z

Decided to shake up my life at 50, deciding various options by the roll of a dice. When the sands of time are slipping through your fingertips, you got to do something different from your usual routine...Started yesterday afternoon and ended up in the pub instead of shopping. I always go shopping on Saturday afternoon, but this was far more fun!

Today, Dice woman rolls number 6:" Finish the novel 'The Clock Strikes Twelve'!" I almost finished writing this book a couple of years ago but put it to one side when life events took over. So, shall get back into the world of a serial killer this week. Should prove interesting...

The Writing Group

2011-07-14T11:47:00.012Z

Some of you may be wondering what happened to my writing group featured on Secret Millionaire just over two years ago? Well, the good news is that it's still going strong! Even though I'm not working at the cancer centre any more, I've kept the group together by arranging monthly meetings for the past fifteen months. We meet upstairs in Wetherspoon and we ALWAYS have a great time!

We meet again tomorrow and it'll be party time for two of the ladies! We make a point of celebrating one another's birthdays. The group has been through so much together. There's a bond and everyone is as supportive as ever, it's taken on a life of its own. We've even got a couple of new members!

We wine, dine, chill-out and chat, and then when we've cleared our plates, we get down to some writing exercises. We've laughed, we've cried, we've cared and shared.

Whenever someone feels down, there's a gentle touch of a hand, a hug, or someone to pass a tissue.

It's more than a writing group, it's a writing family.

Long may our group continue!!

Inspirational Women: Bea Sheftel

2011-07-03T18:38:00.008Z

A woman who had a huge impact on me and my writing life was, Bea Sheftel. Bea was an American writer who belonged to the same online group as myself, Momwriters. A Yahoo group of over a thousand writers, some unpublished, some published and some who even made the best seller list!

Bea Sheftel became a published writer at just sixteen years old. Her major writing influence was her father who wrote essays and poetry for the Knights of Columbus and the local newspaper.

Growing up in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, NY, Bea dreamed of being a writer. After decades of writing in between other jobs, she became a full time freelance writer and writing teacher.

Bea was published in fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. She was also the former editor of The Coventry Journal. She had an Associates Degree from Manchester Community College, and a Bachelor's in writing from the University of Connecticut.

She taught Writing Confessions, Memoir Writing, Scrapbook Creating and other classes through
http://www.universalclass.com

Her work appeared in several anthologies including Guideposts Books, Chicken Soup for the Nurses Soul, Cup of Comfort for a Woman's Journey and many others.

The thing that inspired me about Bea was that she wrote from the heart. Her writing was real, it had life and soul.

Bea died in March of 2005 and I wept for someone I had never met because her words touched me so.

Here's Bea's Memorial page at the Momwriter's website. You'll see what a huge impact she made on people!

http://www.momwriters.com/memory/BSheftel.html

You can still read some of Bea's online writing at the following websites:

http://ewritersplace.com/a005.php

http://www.hazelst.com/writer/bea_sheftel/02-04husbandmet.php

http://www.suite101.com/articles.cfm/homelessness

http://thedabblingmum.com/parenting/cookingstories/christmascookies.htm

New mental health blog: Stepping Forward into Recovery

2011-06-28T12:36:00.002Z

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single footstep...

I've set up a new blog to support 'Stepping Forward into Recovery' [recovery-based courses]. You can visit the blog here:

http://steppingforwardintorecovery.blogspot.com/

Those hazy days of summer

2011-06-26T09:17:00.008Z

Well, summer is here apparently for all of about twenty four hours. So enjoy it while you can. What's your favourite memory of summer? Is there a summer you'll never forget? Was it when you first fell in love or went on a special holiday?

I don't have one specific memory that's a lot better than others, but rather a collection of childhood/teenage images like a slide show of memories: playing by the river with my dog; making dens up the mountain, swinging on a tyre swing attached to a huge tree; paddling in the sea; going to the swimming pool and coming out with wet hair, towel rolled under my arm and queuing in the sweet shop around the corner; playing in the local park; going on Sunday school outings; lying in the garden for hours trying to swot up for my O'levels slathered in lashings of Ambre Solaire oil; getting ready for a night out at the local disco being proud of my new tan!

I'm sure you can think of a slide show of summer memories too. So what are they?

John Sullivan: A Legend

2011-06-12T10:37:00.005Z

There's an interesting interview with John Sullivan, the creator of Only Fools and Horses, in July's edition of Writing Magazine. He had no formal training yet, he was able to tell a great yarn. Upon hearing of the scriptwriter's death in April, David Jason said:

"We’ve lost our country’s greatest comedy writer, but he leaves a great legacy – the gift of laughter."

What I loved about him was that he mixed comedy with tragedy. He had the ability to make you laugh one moment and almost cry the next. Like the episode where Rodney gets married and Del is left alone at the reception as the song, 'Holding Back the Years' plays. Gives me a lump in my throat every time I watch that.

He came from humble beginnings, leaving school at 15 and after a series of jobs, worked as a scene shifter. It was from there he became inspired to write for TV. He did his training on the job as it were. He purchased an ancient typewriter for £2.00 and spent the next two months with his friend working on a sitcom.

They received a rejection from the BBC, which put his friend off but Sullivan carried on writing and submitting and the rest is history.

Makes me wonder how many writers have been put off by rejection when if they'd had the motivation and passion John Sullivan had, the drive to push forward, they could have been writing legends!

Happiness is a Swedish Sunset

2011-06-10T16:34:00.007Z

** I wrote this at my writing group this afternoon and thought I'd share it with you.**

I’ll never forget the summer I went to Sweden at the age of seventeen. I had been penfriends with Anna for about four years and she had already stayed at my home the previous summer. She’d thought the rows of terraced houses in the Welsh Valleys were tiny and was amused with how my family ate chips most days of the week.

Looking back on it, I can’t believe I was brave enough at that tender age to take a flight for the very first time to a strange country and from Heathrow Airport of all places!

Upon my return, my father told me that he couldn’t get over how I just walked off to the terminal gate without even turning around to say ‘Goodbye’ to any of my family. My mind must have been set on going off on an adventure.

I ended up taking a window seat inside the Boeing 707 seated next to two business men. I even remember asking them if I had to pay when the stewardess turned up with the tea and coffee trolley.

At one point during the journey, I thought the wing was about to fall off as the flap rose.

The main thing that hit me as we circled to land in Gothenburg Airport was the amount of trees and lakes. I’d never seen anything like it in my life.

Unfortunately, by then I had severe earache and felt nauseous. What didn’t help matters was, as I waited at the luggage carousel, eventually the crowd drifted away having retrieved their cases, and there was only one remaining. It looked like mine, but it wasn’t.

I was met by Anna and her family as I struggled to fight back the tears, explaining that I felt sick and my suitcase had gone off on its own journey some place else. Thankfully, Anna’s German Step-father, Harald, took control of the situation. He discovered my suitcase was in Tel Aviv and I’d have to wait another 24 hours for its return.

Anna’s home was fantastic. The family lived upstairs and slept downstairs. It was much bigger than our terraced home. Also, back in those days it seemed unusual for families to have two cars which a lot in that area seemed to have. Not only two cars, but also two houses. Their main house and their smaller summer house in the woods.

I witnessed my first Swedish sunset from the balcony that evening, reminding me of a quote by the author, Mark Twain: “Happiness is a Swedish sunset; it is there for all, but most of us look the other way and lose it” A Swedish sunset is thought to be the most beautiful sunset in the world. I can well believe it.

I spent a fortnight at Anna’s home and met her friends. We partied and picnicked and had such fun.

I saw wild elk in the woods, went to a crayfish and vodka party, visited the fair at Gothenburg, the Match Factory in Jonkoping, the second largest lake in Sweden, Lake Vettern, which is sixty five miles long and has an island with a giant in the middle of it. One of Anna’s friends, Annelei presented me with a miniature giant her father had carved for me. I had a ball that summer.

I was sad when it was time to leave a beautiful country where the sunset was pure poetry.

If You Could See What I Can See When I'm Cleaning Windows

2011-06-03T13:48:00.013Z

Sometimes life knocks us off course. We are coasting along nicely, the horizon clear, only to be confronted with something that happens 'seemingly' out of the blue, creating a huge tidal wave. However, often it's not what happens to us at the time that causes the problem, but how we deal with it.

Making waves can be good. They shake us up by forcing us off our feet, pushing us into a period of transition. Change can be a positive thing, and although we might not think so at the time, if we look back on some of the big things that happened to us in life, those changes, even if they were enforced on us, were often for our own good.

During my own life, this has happened to me several times. At that moment the 'tidal wave' was upsetting, devastating, even. Yet, retrospectively, I can honestly say, I'm glad those things happened. The events shook me right out of my comfort zone but forced me to face up to reality.

We're all capable of becoming deluded.

We have blind spots to certain people and particular situations that aren't good for us. It wasn't until I studied 'The Johari Window' that I even knew those blind spots existed. I believe, it's because we don't always recognise the blind spots that cause the problems in the first place.

How often have we trusted someone only to think they were 'behaving out of character' when they did something that hurt us? The truth of the matter though, is the person concerned is more likely to have been behaving very much 'in character', and we simply haven't recognised it because we have a blind spot in that area.

And don't we feel foolish when we realise how shielded we've been behind 'rose-tinted spectacles'? Especially, when someone informs us, "Didn't you already know that?"

The truth was we didn't, or rather didn't want to recognise what was right before our eyes.

Sometimes we are our own worse enemies. We need to keep our metaphorical windows clean: the open, the closed and the hidden, because if we don't, we are going to get knocked off our feet one way or another!

Let's Go Round Again?

2011-05-31T16:48:00.013Z

I’ve only ever attended two reunions and had a great time at both. The first was in 1999 -- The May ’79 Set Nurses’ Reunion. The other was on Saturday night -- High School leavers 1977/79.

On both occasions, it was wonderful to see people I hadn’t seen for years and reconnect with my past. It was surprising in the school reunion that although some of us had been out of touch with one another for up to some thirty plus years, most people hadn't changed that much with regard to personality or even appearance. It was a feel-good evening wrapped up with genuine warmth and affection.

Some people don’t like reunions and I wonder why? Is it because they don’t have any particular feeling for those people they spent a good chunk of their lives with? Or could it be it conjures up bad memories for them? Or even dare I say it...are they afraid of being judged on how they look and what they've achieved?

Although I thought long and hard beforehand what I'd wear, whether it was possible to lose a few pounds, etc; all of that superficial stuff flew out the window when I got there. Somehow appearances didn't seem to matter any more as the years melted away.

The 1999 nurses’ reunion was so inspiring. The women were a highly motivated bunch and I went away feeling good about life. So much so, I wrote a short story entitled, “The Reunion” based on the evening. It seemed to trigger something off inside me and there was no holding me back. I penned more stories, poems and non-fictional articles.

I went on to join a writing group in a local library and an online group of over 1000 writers called ‘Momwriters’, which still exists today. Momwriters is what it says on the tin, a group of mothers that write. Some of them are published. Some have even made the Best Seller list. A minority are men. One male ‘Momwriter’ was the former comedy editor of Playboy magazine, who co-wrote the movie, ‘The Blue Streak’.

Belonging to the group was highly motivating which led me to submit my work to magazines and websites. I got published. The icing on the cake was getting paid.

All because I went to my first reunion night and became inspired.

I wonder if Saturday’s reunion will lead on to anything as good?

Watch this space...

A Secret Place

2011-05-25T12:39:00.005Z

Everyone needs a secret place. A sanctuary where they can feel safe and reflective. I visited mine today. It's a hidden pond in amongst the trees. The walk around there is amazing. Today I took the dogs and really absorbed its aura. The sweet bird song, the sun filtering between the bowing branches of the trees, the swoop of a heron over the water, a carpet of bluebells covering the ground, nature at its finest.

It's a place that when I visit, is so peaceful. Sometimes it's as if it beckons me, asking me to come and stay for a while. It's best in summer, comforting in autumn, inspiring in spring and a frosty fairy tale in winter.

Alone with myself, my inner voice speaks to me, clarifying any questions I have. Sometimes the questions are every day ones, but other times they are big ones like: "What am I going to do next with my life?"

Nature is a great healer and better than any drug.

Summers of Yore

2011-05-17T13:55:00.019Z

Why is it that summers seemed to last for ages when I was a child?

Maybe I'm donning rose-tinted specs, but as well as days stretching endlessly off into the horizon, the weather seemed so much better. Days of sunshine and playful laughter, nights of camping in the back garden and midnight feasts. Holidays taken in caravans, day trips to the seaside to ride the Big Dipper and get splashed from head to toe by the Water Chute. This was before places like Oakwood Park or Alton Towers.

Innocent times when a Mr. Whippy ice-cream embedded with a Cadbury's chocolate flake was a special treat. Times when sitting watching the tide come in whilst eating fish and chips was somehow so much nicer than sitting in a cafe.

Golden tans on equally golden sands. Deeply ingrained freckled faces in the days when we didn't worry about skin cancers and fried ourselves with lashings of Ambre Solaire sun oil, or if you weren't so lucky to acquire a tan, you applied the fake version, which at that time was very orange and streaky.

When we weren't on our holidays or on day trips often run by the Sunday school, we played outside on tyre swings, climbed trees or created dens to play house in. Often we spent all day outside, only going back home for lunch or supper, or when our mothers called us in as dusk descended.

We read The Bunty Summer Special or if you were a boy the Dandy or Beano versions.

School seemed a long way off and we thought we were living it up in a caravan in Porthcawl for factory fortnight.

Perhaps we were happy enough building sandcastles, paddling in the sea and asking our parents for handfuls of old pennies to spend in the arcade. Of course, there were no mobile phones back then [many of us didn't even own a landline], so if your mother wanted you back, she either called loud and hard or she came to look for you!

All too soon though, there'd be an announcement that you'd be going back to school next week and it was time to buy new shoes as your feet had grown!

I hope today's children still enjoy their summer holidays. Of course, these days they are more likely to head off to Florida or somewhere in the Med, somehow, I wonder if they have the freedom we did.

Last Night's Apprentice

2011-05-11T12:52:00.020Z

Starting out as the Del Boy of his day in 1967, by selling aerials out of the back of his van with just £100 to his name, Lord Alan Sugar has gone on to amass a fortune of 730 million pounds. His story could be described as a rags-to-riches-council-estate-boy-made-good-fairy-tale; yet, appearance-wise he wouldn’t look out of place in a remake of Carry on Camping, playing the part of a raucous Sid James!

Last night, the first episode of the seventh season of The Apprentice aired on BBC 1:

“Sixteen potential business partners. Twelve tough weeks. One life-changing opportunity.”

At the beginning of the programme, Lord Sugar told the candidates that he wasn’t looking for ‘bloody sales people’. He was looking for someone with a brain who was going to start a business with him.

The Lord gave the teams £250 to purchase fruit and vegetables, expecting a reasonable profit from their efforts. Then he announced he was sick of what he calls the “moaning culture” of people saying you can’t do this and you can’t do that, because in the Lord’s world, you can! And he’s got the t-shirt and written the book to prove it!

He started off by telling the candidates they needed an idea, a concept. Okay, TV aerials might not go down so well these days, but they needed to come up with a product, they also needed determination and to put in hard work.

The candidates were divided into two teams, boys versus girls. The boys’ team was headed by former accountant, Edward Hunter who seemed to want to shrug off the ‘accountant label’. After rejecting the team name ‘ Ability’, suggested by self-confessed perfectionist and ladies’ man, Vincent Disneur, they chose the name ‘Logic’.

The girls’ team, headed by project manager, Melody Hossaini, came up with the name ‘Venture’.

Team Venture decided their game plan was to use as little of Lord Sugar's £250 as possible and to come up with a breakfast and a lunch product to feed London’s hungry workforce.

The girls hit on fruit salad pots for breakfast and vegetable pasta for lunch.

Edward suggested things that Team Logic could make efficiently, quickly and well. He went on to say that soup would be the best option ‘because you can’t get it wrong!”

At that point, Glenn kept trying to ask a question, but everyone seemed to be doing their best to ignore him.

Eventually, he queried, “Does anyone actually know how to make soup?”

After a moment of silence and shaking of heads, it became apparent that no one did and it was probably much quicker and more efficient to open a tin of Campbells’ Cream of Tomato!

The second product chosen was orange juice.

On the way to the New Convent Garden at 3.20 am, Edward made the confession that he had no intention of showing off he could work out margins, even though he was an accountant. He seemed more intent on spending Lord Alan’s money and selling to the public. Yet, what had the Boss of the Boardroom already warned candidates, “I’m not looking for bloody sales people!”

Team Venture seemed more focused and had the idea they needed to keep moving to catch the breakfast market.

The boys, after being unable to squeeze the price down on oranges, ended up with 140 boxes of them and a few boxes of tomatoes.

The girls, content with purchasing pineapples and grapes for breakfast salad pots, purchased peppers and courgettes, even managing to knock the prices down. Edna seemed unhappy that others were making the deals while she should have been taking control of the group’s finances.

Northern Irish, Jim, declared, “We are going to make soup like we’ve never made soup before!” Which was quite funny as none of them had.

After much chopping and slicing of fruit and veg, and the seemingly never-ending task of squeezing oranges, both teams were ready to meet their target – the hungry work force. Nick seemed dubious that the girls had bought enough of their product. Karen was convinced the boys wouldn’t just miss the breakfast trade but also the lunch trade if they didn’t pull their fingers out and get out there to sell.

Breakfast trade for the girls was brisk as they sold all their fruit pots, but the pasta was left a bit late. Melody got stroppy with Edna as she wanted the pasta at Canary Wharf by 1 pm for the lunch trade. The vegetable pasta arrived too late for the girls, so they had to push the pasta for people to take home for their evening meals.

Glenn was irritated about missing the breakfast trade and tried to take over by getting the boys out, Jim stepped in to diffuse the situation and eventually the boys were out selling.

The boys chose Liverpool Street as their permanent pitch to sell their soup and orange juice. Sales manager, Vincent did well selling around the offices by charming the ladies with the chat, reminding me of a younger, less posh, Nigel Havers.

At 4 pm trading ceased and it was off to the boardroom.

The boys questioned the randomness of Edward’s leadership as PM, whilst Edward continued to fudge the issues presented by Lord Sugar. It became apparent that Ed had no real business plan and tried to make out that he’d handpicked Jim to be the ‘soup man’.

Lord Sugar had no time for accountant Edward's ramblings in the boardroom. He wanted simple ‘yes’ and ‘no’ answers, but Edward, who insisted in ‘rolling with the punches’ came out with the most awful verbal diahorrea, causing the baron of the boardroom to question whether he was speaking in semaphore.

“Cut the crap!” Lord Alan commanded.

The girls seemed happier with their team leader, Melody. Although they were pulled up by Lord Alan for not spending all of the £250.

The boys team took £432.00 which was surprising, and maybe at that point may have thought they were home and dry. Unfortunately for them, Team Venture took £592.00.

The girls were sent for a champagne reception back at the house, whereas the boys went back to the greasy spoon cafe to drown their sorrows with a cappaccino.

Edward chose to take juice presser Leon, and Gavin, who had challenged Edward about being PM, back in the boardroom for a showdown with Lord Sugar. When questioned why he had brought Gavin into the boardroom, Edward insisted it was because he wasn’t a ‘doer’. Yet, as Karen pointed out, Gavin had sold the second highest number of units that day.

Edward seemed to think it was a disadvantage to be the youngest and shortest in the team! Insisting he had got profit for Lord Sugar, the baron countered, “But you lost the task!”

Although Lord Sugar pushed the theory that a lot of people who became bosses of large companies started out as accountants, in Edward's case, was not impressed that he failed to use his accountancy skill during the task.

For Edward Hunter, his continual comments about ‘rolling with the punches’ became a self-fulfilling prophecy as eventually he was knocked out of the competiton all together as Lord Alan pointed the finger and declared: “You’re fired!”

“Fifteen potential business partners. Eleven tough weeks to go. One life-changing opportunity.”

When is a friend no longer a friend?

2011-05-09T09:56:00.009Z

What's your measure for detecting when a friendship has come to an end? How can you tell, has it been staring you in the face for weeks, months or even years but you just haven't noticed?

Call me a cynic...

"All right, you're a Cynic!"

but these days, I seem to be able to spot the signs a little earlier. I no longer hold on to a friendship that has passed its sell-by-date, now I look out for the 'Best before' signs. The signs that indicate that I'm the one putting in all the work and doing all the giving. I ditch the emotional vampires, the ones that drain the dregs out of me. I discard those who couldn't care whether I am in their life or not. I say farewell to the fanciful users who use me for their own ends, just when they fancy it!

One old friend [this was someone I'd previously thought of as a friend], who moved from our hometown circa 2000, is one person I realise is no longer a true friend. I'd searched for her on Facebook for a couple of years, just hoping to maintain a little contact. You know the kind of thing, to find out where she's now and what she's up to these days. With a view to the odd Christmas card passing between us and possibly one day meeting up for lunch.

I searched for years and never found her.

Imagine my surprise a few weeks ago when I bumped into her locally, assuming she was home to visit her family. I was so pleased to see her, she was friendly and chatty.

We exchanged mobile phone numbers.

Then I asked her why she was in Merthyr, and she said she'd been back living here for about three years.

I couldn't believe it. Not so much for the fact that we had never bumped into one another before but that there'd been no contact from her. She knew where I lived. I'd even been invited to her hen party and wedding day just before she moved away. So it wasn't as though I meant nothing to her, and as it was a small wedding, I felt I was one of the chosen few.

Getting over the surprise, I asked if she wanted to meet up the following week for lunch.

She seemed enthusiastic. Then she changed 'lunch' to 'coffee' as she explained her life was 'so busy'.

Okay, it was better than nothing and a chance to catch up with someone whose friendship I'd really valued.

Yet, as I walked away from that surprise encounter, a little voice in my head said, "She's not that keen to rekindle your friendship."

So, it was no surprise to me the evening before our proposed coffee date that she texted me, making an excuse as to why she couldn't meet me the following day. Her excuse sounded plausible and she even said we would definitely meet the following week.

I just texted back the words, 'No probs'. I didn't even bother trying to pin her down to the following week. I think I'd got the message.

I didn't really mean that much to her any more. Yet, I would have moved heaven and earth to have made that meeting.

Perhaps I was looking back on the past with rose-tinted glasses.

Maybe some friendships have a certain shelf-life.

That's why I choose to dust off my shelves and prioritise the friends who value my friendship and those that don't.

Guilty Pleasures

2011-05-06T12:38:00.007Z

Here are my top ten guilty pleasures. What are yours?

10. Getting into a freshly made, clean bed.

9. Reading a Jackie Collins book in bed.

8. Drinking a glass of wine on a hot sunny day in the garden.

7. Listening/watching the storm outside when I'm cosy indoors.

6. Popping the bubbles in a sheet of plastic wrap.

5. Finding a handwritten letter or card on the doormat.

4. Listening to an uplifting song like: I Got You 'I Feel Good', James Brown.

3. My first cup of tea of the day, especially if it's made by someone else and brought to me in bed!

2. Finding out that something I've written has been published.

1. Surprise events that break me out of my comfort zone.

Job Interview

2011-05-02T17:48:00.009Z

There seems to be a trend these days of organisations not getting back to interviewees following the interview process. I think this is very unprofessional and does not sit well with me for several reasons:

1. The interviewee may have applied for many posts and will likely have psyched themselves up for the interview.

2. They may have spent valuable time researching information for the position: finding out what the job entails, updating their CV, learning specifics relating to that particular post.

3. Most interviewees intend to look the part so may well have paid to have their suit, coat, dress or garment of choice dry cleaned, or even purchased a new outfit, which for ladies like myself may even entail purchasing new shoes and a bag to match said outfit.

4. The interviewee gives up valuable time thinking about the interview, travelling to the venue and engaging in the interview, which can sometimes be highly stressful. There's usually a panel of interviewers who often ask some tough questions, sometimes as many as ten in all.

During the past year, I've attended two interviews where the organisation did not respond . The first one was for a well-known drug charity. I was already shortlisted from 65 applicants to the final 5, so it wasn't as if they had many people to inform afterwards! A panel of 5 people interviewed me and I was in the room on what felt like the hottest day of the year. The interview went on for about 45 minutes and I travelled 25 miles there and back for the privilege of not being informed whether I had the job or not!

Shortly afterwards I got a job elsewhere, which I resigned from, but that's another story...

I had a interview for another job three weeks ago for a position which is fairly specialised, so I don't think there would have been that many applicants. Again, no reply even though they said they would let the successful applicant know by the end of the week and the others would receive letters.

Not a sausage since.

Surely, out of common decency these organisations could put us poor interviewees out of our misery. I wouldn't even mind if they said something like, "If you haven't heard anything within the next fourteen days, then you haven't got the position. We won't be sending out any notification letters."

Instead we are left in Limbo Land wondering until we get fed up of wondering and decide to move on from the thought of working for that particular organisation.

It seems that once they've bagged their successful applicant, it's s** off everyone else!

In any case, if an organisation is so unreliable that they can't let me know one way or the other, would I want to work for that organisation anyhow?

No, not a chance! From now on I'll be interviewing them!

The Royal Wedding

2011-04-29T15:48:00.008Z

What a wonderful wedding day, the day Prince William and Kate Middleton tied the knot!

I watched most of the coverage with my mother, who was so excited, she turned up twenty minutes earlier than planned. I prepared some nibbles and we toasted the happy couple and even my son, Nathan, joined us later.

Kate looked absolutely radiant and wasn't the dress simply stunning! So understated, yet elegant and stylish. The little bridesmaids and her sister's simple bridesmaid dress, complemented her own.

I loved the way Kate and William exchanged glances, smiles and knowing glances throughout the ceremony. It's so obvious that their love is real and here to stay.

They're a mature couple who gave Britain a wonderful sense of celebration, community spirit and a memorable day for our country to reflect on for many years to come.

Nice Review for Return to Winter

2011-04-24T08:06:00.003Z

I was surprised to find another lovely review for my romantic suspense novel, Return to Winter, online yesterday. It was first published in 2007 and has been in print ever since. The review is extracted from The Bookwenches website.

Return to Winter gives the reader suspense in big doses and keeps them guessing until the very end. I found myself reading as quickly as I could to get to the end and find out what happens. This story utilizes interesting characters, themes, and places to pull the reader in and not let go.

I felt as if I was on the same emotional roller coaster ride as Stephanie; I was never sure what to expect around the next corner. Her emotions seep off the pages and wrap themselves around the reader quite potently. I found Stephanie memorable in many ways: from the pain of being torn from the man she loves to the trust that turned to dust when she was back with him again.

The secondary characters are almost as interesting as the main. They add a wonderful dimension and will put a smile on the readers face. I always enjoy fun characters, and this story does not disappoint.

I can't wait to read something else by Ms. Rees. She will be an author to keep an eye on!

Reviewed by: Teagan S. Boyd

Happy Valentine's Day!

2011-02-14T14:43:00.006Z

“Everything is clearer when you're in love.” ~ John Lennon

What does Valentine's day mean to you? Is it hearts and flowers and sweet canoodles or is it something much more?

Although I love getting the champagne, flowers and chocs, to me it's the little things that make life romantic. It's the thoughtful gesture of my hubby going out of his way to pick me up from a girlie night out so I won't have to hobble home in my high heel shoes or trail around town trying to pick up a taxi.

It's the little things like making my sandwiches for work when I'm way behind time leaving the house as I try to apply mascara whilst nibbling on a piece of toast.

It's the meaningful things like walking in the rain with the dogs knowing we'll have a hot cuppa together when we get back home and a game of Scrabble.

I haven't always appreciated those little things as much as I should have, but I do now. I'm thankful for the gifts I received today, but the biggest one I received is love

Lanzarote holiday

2011-01-24T20:03:00.006Z

What a pleasant surprise Lanzarote was. I don't know why but I always assumed the place was on the coast of Spain. However, when Googling to find a holiday a couple of weeks ago, I discovered it was one of the Canary Islands and decided to give it a go.

It was a last minute booking but one we'll never regret. It turned out to be the best holiday of my life. The whole experience was chill-axing from start to finish. Our hotel, The Rubicon Palace was fantastic. I loved everything about it from The Piano bar, to the Disco bar to the Pool bar.

The Pool bar was great because we could have a long, leisurely lie in and make our way there at around 11.00 am for a breakfast of meat, cheese, rolls, fruit, yoghurt etc. Or if we had an earlier breakfast at the restaurant we could have a buffet-style lunch there. Part of the bar was boat shaped and the views absolutely stunning.

The weather was outstanding. A far cry from miserable, wet cold, Wales. In fact, that's one of the reasons I like going abroad at this time of the year. I tend to suffer from a mild form of SAD when the shorter days begin, so a holiday in January [when temperatures are sometimes as high as 26 deg, is fine with me!]

I was so chilled out, I even managed to finish my Paul O'Grady autobiography, The Devil Rides Out. I haven't been in a reading mood for ages, so that was great. A highly recommended read by the way and a follow up to, At My Mother's Knee. Very funny. I could tell he wrote it himself as I read it I could hear his voice in my head.

So, it's now back to Blighty and reality. A mound of dirty washing, slate grey skies and back to the daily grind. C'est la vie!

Memories of Bunty

2011-01-14T21:34:00.005Z

My favourite comic when I was a child was Bunty. It was published by the same folk who created The Beano and The Dandy: D.C. Thompson.

Bunty was in cartoon form and many of the stories were in serial format. One that was in it week after week was 'The Four Marys'. It was about four girls, surprisingly all called Mary, who went to a private school called, St. Elmos. If my memory is correct, three Marys were middle class, but one was a mere working class kid. They appeared to have a fantastic time - all jolly hockey sticks and midnight feasts. The headmistress was a stuck up snooty old crone who liked nothing better than to ruin their fun. But I could be wrong that memory might be of 'Pastry Face' the cookery teacher at my old school. Don't think she ever forgave me for once almost burning the cookery lab down! When she was judging our scones she picked one of mine off the plate, inspected it thoroughly, then dropped it back down again. "What's that? A rock cake!" she declared in front of the sniggering horde.

But I digress, back to Bunty...

On the back page of the comic was a cut out paper doll with various outfits. Party Bunty, Girl around Town Bunty, Holiday Bunty... She was a one dimensional, puritanical, virginal version of Barbie. Only a lot cheaper, in the nicest sense of the word, of course.

One story I remember well was about huge red balloons. Whoever bought one drifted up, up and away into the clouds, taken to another land far away. I loved that story and the concept, so much so, I ended up on top of the tip with my best friend and a bunch of balloons as we willed them to take us away. It didn't happen of course, but if it had, I might not be here typing this!

I loved Mondays as that was the day when me and my brother got home from school and there, in my gran's living room, on top of her sideboard next to the china dog, was a copy of Bunty for me and a copy of The Beano for my brother along with a bar of chocolate each. Bliss.

I Love Sundays

2011-01-09T11:05:00.004Z

I love Sunday. It's my favourite day of the week. It's rare to catch me trundling through Tesco or muddling my way amongst the masses in Mac Arthur Glen on that day of the week. At the moment I am propped up in bed watching the Omnibus edition of Hollyoaks whilst drinking a cup of coffee and quaffing a Cadbury's Creme egg.

Later I'll put the roast in the oven and peel the veg. We're having roast beef today with Yorkshires and all the trimmings. It's the one day of the week when I can get all the family sitting around the table. And I'm pleased to say that everyone else in the family seem to love coming for Sunday lunch. My daughter doesn't live at home anymore but she usually joins us with her boyfriend at least once a month.

To me, a Sunday is like a recharge day. A day when the stresses and strains of the daily grind are far away and out of sight. A time to reconnect with everyone. A bit like Christmas day I suppose but on a smaller scale.

Keep Sunday special I say!

The Master of Suspense: Hitchcock

2011-01-02T19:08:00.006Z

I just watched a TV programme where the Master of Suspense, Alfred Hitchcock, was interviewed. The programme looked quite old, well, I suppose it had to have been as he died in 1980. As a writer, I found a lot of the things he said fascinating. After all, I see my novels and short stories in my head too as if projected onto the big screen.

One thing he mentioned was how it was important to introduce the audience to a ticking time bomb and then go back to normality, as that way they will be on the edge of their seats. He also stressed that it was important that the bomb shouldn't go off at the end.

How very true. Readers need to feel suspense as if something could happen, even if it doesn't. I also think he's right in saying that 'the bomb shouldn't go off at the end', otherwise, the reader will feel cheated.

I also notice how he used some of his settings as characters in his movies. For instance, the large brooding Victorian house became just as sinister as Norman Bates ever was. That is a lesson we can learn as writers: to allow the mundane, the innocuous, everyday things in life to take on a life of their own.

Even Hitchcock's early silent movie [1927] 'The Lodger' was packed with suspense as an innocent man runs away from the baying mob, only to be caught up by his handcuffs on some wrought iron railings. The final scene reminiscent of the crucifixication of Christ.

His 1963 movie, 'The Birds' also made use of the fact that a creature that normally seems pretty innane could turn on man after years of use and abuse. As Hitchcock put it himself, "One should never mess around with nature."

Happy New Year !

2011-01-01T11:19:00.009Z

Well another year over and a new one just begun. And to put it quite bluntly, what have I done?

I looked on 2010 as a transitional year for me. The aim was to remain standing. I had been through two of the biggest changes in my life within a short period of time [less than 6 months apart]. One was the loss of a relationship which is now regained and even stronger [but at the time I thought it was all over], the other was leaving a job I loved, but for all the right reasons, I needed to leave.

Both issues were bereavements of sorts so I needed to grieve. I was fortunate to get a brand new job which I am enjoying, it's challenging and no two days are the same! I'm now employed as a support worker for a mental health charity. If you'd told me a couple of years ago I'd be in a different job working with new people I would never have believed it. It took me a while to settle in and get my 'sea legs' as it were after everything that had happened to me where I felt the rug had been pulled from beneath my feet, I needed to feel solid ground once more.

But do you know what, although I didn't appreciate those changes thrust upon me at the time, they have certainly been for the better. My relationship with my husband is stronger than it's ever been, my new job has shaken me out of a rut and given me new opportunities taking courses etc. For example I have recently passed a PTLLS course which means I can now tutor adults in life long learning.

So, maybe that old saying is true: If life hands you lemons, make lemonade!

I don't tend to make New Year's resolutions these days as I usually break them, so I set goals for myself instead. This year I'd like to write several short stories and submit them to magazines. I'd also like to carry on making lemonade as I've come to realise that change, even if it is thrust upon us, is usually for the best.

So what are your New Year's resolutions/goals?

Carry on Camping

2010-12-28T21:31:00.002Z

At the moment I am sitting in bed watching a programme on BBC Four about camping. I had totally forgotten the joys. Back in the mid eighties I remember how at a moment's notice my husband and I [we were newly weds back then] would decide on a lovely sunsoaked weekend after work at the office to pack up our small two-man tent and set off for Saundersfoot, West Wales.

There was no worry that we'd taken enough food and clothing, we just threw things together and off we went. The place we stayed was in Step-a-Side [what a quaint name!] and consisted of a bare farmer's field with a toilet block!

The farmer came round early each morning shouting out 'Rent money!'. It cost just £3.00 per night. We had a small gas stove which we used to boil both kettle and frying pan for such delights as fried eggs, bacon, sausage and beans. There's nothing like eating alfresco!

We took my daughter to the same place when she was eighteen months old, along with my mother [a ready made and willing baby sitter.] Unfortunately, we lasted only a day as after setting up a much larger tent this time it was a wash out!

I think I'd like to try it again sometime in the future, even though I love my home comforts these days!

Christmas and the weather

2010-12-26T16:23:00.004Z

View from Rhydycar, Merthyr Tydfil, overlooking the old Glamorganshire Canal. Some of the icicles suspended from the bridge were 2 feet long!

Had a lovely Christmas day yesterday the snow was still deep and crisp and even! Got up early to clear the decks in the kitchen before putting the turkey into roast. Then I peeled the potatoes, carrots and parsnips and prepared the pigs in blankets and stuffing. Nathan, my son, presented me with a fabulous laptop which I am using at the moment. I know I'm well behind the times not to have one before now, instead, making do with an Alphasmart!

My hubby bought me a lovely white gold and diamond pendant, my daughter, Leyna, gave me some fluffy white slippers and some toiletries.

My mother and brother joined us for Christmas dinner and I have to say it all went like a dream. Everything cooked to perfection and it was the first Christmas day in years when I didn't get stressed out!

The afternoon was spent chatting and listening to music [my new Michael Buble CD]. My nephew, Ryan, called later followed by Leyna's boyfriend, Lee, then Nathan's girlfriend, Helen. It was lovely having everyone together.

In the night we snuggled up to watch some Christmas tele: 'Come Fly with Me' David Walliams and Matt Lucas, was so funny, followed by 'The Royle Family'. Bliss.

Girls' Night Out and Father's Day BBQ

2010-06-21T16:24:00.016Z

Had a marvellous weekend. Had a rare girlie night out on Saturday night with my old friend, Trisha. When I say 'old' I mean she's a friend from years ago not an OAP lol. It was a fantastic night. I bumped into people I hadn't seen for years and met some new interesting ones too. Spent the remainder of the evening dancing myself dizzy at The Three Horse Shoes pub.

Nathan and Helen

Then had another great day yesterday at my daughter and her boyfriend's new home. Leyna and Lee hosted a barbeque for Father's Day. The sun shone all day and I had the best time. It was the most relaxing time I've had in ages.

Leyna and Shelley

Lee

Following the barbeque we played a game. I don't know what it's called but everyone writes down the name of a famous person either fictional or real and pins it on the the person next door to them and they have to guess who that person is. It took me ages to guess I was 'Sooty' lol. I knew I was someone to do with children's TV but for some reason kept thinking of a TV presenter not a puppet. Mind you the glass of Magners and the warm weather might have addled my brain!

Afterwards we went for a family walk with the dogs across the leafy Taff Trail behind their house. I really think I am at my most contented when I am surrounded by my family.

Happy Father's Day, Col!

Me and Colin
[notice my 'I am Boss!' badge.]

Stuart Cable R.I.P

2010-06-08T16:35:00.015Z

I was shocked to hear the sad news that former Stereophonics' drummer, Stuart Cable, had died yesterday morning. So far, the police are saying his death is not suspicious and some websites are suggesting he may have choked on his vomit. Whatever happened, he died far too young.

I saw the Stereophonics at The Millenium Stadium in Cardiff in 2001 and they were awesome. He was still the drummer back then. The atmosphere that night was electric as fans performed a Mexican wave around the stadium and waved huge inflatable daffodils whist the Phonics played 'Just Looking', 'More Life in a Tramps Vest', 'Local Boy in a Photograph', etc. It was one of the best concerts I've ever been to. Coincidentally, one of the band members', Richard Jones's brother, Jason, was working on the electrics on our kitchen at the time and got us a signed autographed pic of the band. Jason rang Richard, who was in London, from our kitchen while Handbags and Gladrags was playing on the radio and had just grabbed the number one slot.

The press have made a lot out of suggesting that Stuart and Kelly Jones [the front man] had a huge rift that hadn't healed, but that doesn't appear to be the truth. Kelly Jones spoke on the BBC Wales news last night saying that they had patched things up a few years ago and had planned on meeting up in a couple of days.

There was a huge rift of course back in 2003 when Stuart was asked to leave the band due to commitment issues. That must have hurt, but he appeared to be over it and had several projects on the go, most recently with his BBC Radio Wales show Cable Rock and playing drums with his new band, Killing for Company who supported The Who last year.

A post mortem has been held, but by all accounts it will take weeks for the results following toxicology reports.

I'm wondering if he will be cremated at Llwydcoed Crematorium as my mother-in-law is one of the organists and she may well end up playing for his funeral. If that's the case, she will be in great musical company if Kelly at el show up!

Back in the Saddle

2010-05-19T23:38:00.004Z

Well, I decided it's about time I got back on the horse again. The blog writing horse that is. I've been so busy with my Open University course: The Diploma in Literature and Creative Writing. Then of course there was all the awful stuff that many of you know happened to me last year. I don't want to rake all over the ins and outs of it again, done enough of that this past few months...let's just say things are much better and we're working at things.

I finally sent in my last assignment to the OU the other week. So now have more time to write other things beside assignments. The big final assignment was to write a thirty minute play. Something I really enjoyed doing. I've always fancied script writing and one of my previous writing tutors suggested years ago I try it. I might even send the script to the BBC as a calling card, they accept stage plays of that length.

I'm trying to be positive about life and think about the good things that came out of the bad of last year. I made two new friends who I don't think I would have otherwise made. Both are very precious to me, I love the bones of them. I also learned a lot about myself. Mainly that I'd been coasting along in life oblivious to what was really going on under my nose. The drifting apart in the relationship I'm talking about here. Now I am much more switched on and aware of things. It's made me realise that the rug can be pulled at any time. A piece of paper doesn't hold any relationship together.

If I could turn back time, would I do so? Maybe if I could have prevented all the bad stuff happening. But then would I have learned something from it? I guess not.

I'm far more cynical now and perhaps the saddest thing of all is that I don't believe in fairy tales any more. But maybe that's a good thing...

The true meaning of Christmas

2009-11-27T15:55:00.004Z

I actually started some Christmas shopping today. Over the past few years I have got so fed up of the Christmas season being rammed down our throats far too soon. It usually begins with the advertising on tv. Why do people have to act like the world will end if they don't have or achieve such and such by Christmas? If it's not the new sofa from DFS then it's the lose a stone by Christmas diet or the buy before Christmas but carrying on paying for it for many months to come thing.

Why don't we just go back to living one season at a time? When I was young I remember Christmas beginning at the end of November/beginning of December, not back early October. Let's go back to getting Halloween and Bon Fire night out the way first. I was gobsmacked to hear Christmas carols playing in one of the shops early in October.

Let's face it, in reality, Christmas these days is about spending as much as possible and buying presents that half the time people take back to exchange, pass on to others, stuff in an old drawer or dredge to the charity shop. Less in more. A thoughtful gift is the best gift of all.

One of the best Christmas presents I ever received was from an Austrian lady named, Eva. She didn't have much money so she made her own Christmas cards and visited the neighbours with her home made cakes and biscuits [cut into Christmas shapes and filled with melted boiled sweets to look like stained glass windows]. To me, that was the true meaning of Christmas. Eva gave of her time and her talents, meaningful and thoughtful gifts.

Angel Story # 2

2009-08-26T07:50:00.004Z

It was the Millennium year just before Christmas. I was on the approach to my fortieth birthday. I experienced a real mid-life crisis at that time. I don’t know why. Nothing was really wrong, but I felt like running away from my life and everything I knew.

On the 22nd of December, I went out for a family meal at a local restaurant. My mother presented me with a lovely birthday cake and had invited my brother and favourite uncle along as a surprise. Following the meal, the candles were lit and I blew them out. I remember feeling blessed that the people who meant most to me in life were there. We went home and I thought nothing much more about it.

The following day, I was watching a Christmas movie in my bedroom, one I had never seen before called ‘One Magic Christmas’.

There were so many similarities in it to my own life. The wife in the story never got the Christmas present she asked Father Christmas for as a child which was a Mr Potato Head. I had remembered writing a similar letter to him on Christmas and never got the present I asked for either, which was a Sindy Doll. So I could relate to this tale very well.

It transpired that the wife in the movie had a guardian angel named, Gideon. That was odd, I had always thought mine had the same name too.

I watched the film and enjoyed it and was about to get up to get ready to go out as we were due to deliver a Christmas present to my husband’s grandmother at her nursing home. Then I spotted it. A small Mr Potato Head on the cupboard in the bedroom. That was strange, I hadn’t remembered seeing my children play with one of those before. I knew that I certainly had not bought them one. So I asked my daughter did she know anything about it. She replied that yes, she did. A man had come up to her on the way out of the restaurant where my birthday celebration was being held and placed it in her hand. She had no idea who the man was. I assumed perhaps it was a member of staff.

Then later that day as we parked up at the nursing home and I got out of the car, I noticed a small white feather stuck to window on the passenger side where I had been sitting. That really made me wonder.

I related that tale to my daughter just last week and she found it incredible. She doesn’t remember being given that toy. I asked her if there were other times when we went to the restaurant when members of staff gave children small toys after their meals, and she said that as far as she was aware, they have never given toys to children.

Not long after that, my emotions settled down and I no longer felt as though I wanted to run away from life. Whatever happened, I can’t explain. Maybe they were all bizarre coincidences, but maybe not…

I've got my excuse!

2009-08-06T18:26:00.008Z

Okay, now I have my excuse to buy a pair of Jimmy Choos. I said, I think it was in my last but one post, that I would buy a pair for a special occasion. Well, now it's arrived. I passed my Open University A215 course! I suppose that is excuse enough.

Then maybe I will buy a bag like this to go with the shoes:
But I am only dreaming...sigh, the JCHOO bag and shoes would cost a whopping £835.50 altogether! The bag is onsale and is usually almost £1000! The shoes aren't on sale and are £358.00! Probably much more than the price of my entire shoe collection. An obscene amount of money really. Mind you, there are so many high street stores selling similar goods for a fraction of the price these days, I don't know if it is worth the bother to buy the real thing. Unless, it really would make me feel better to know I am sporting designer goods.

Knowing my luck one of the heels would get wedged in a crack in the pavement in no time!

What rational explanation is there?

2009-08-05T16:19:00.004Z

I Googled my name earlier and found that one of my books is up on e-bay for a staggering US $107.14 plus postage of $3.49. See here:

This doesn't make any sense whatsoever to me as the book is still available at Amazon.com and my publisher's website for a more practical sum of $10.99 [6.47319 GBP]. For some reason though, I have yet to discover, it isn't available at Amazon.co.uk any more only from independent sellers at exorbitant prices.

The best place for people to buy my first two books [It Happened One Summer and Return to Winter] is from my publisher's website. See here:

http://www.thewildrosepress.com/it-happened-one-summer-paperback-p-3081.html

http://www.thewildrosepress.com/return-to-winter-paperback-p-3040.html

Yet, strangely, the third book I had published at The Wild Rose Press is still available for a reasonable price from independent publishers at Amazon.co.uk.

And why am I writing this particular post here today? To take my mind off my impending OU result for the A215 Creative Writing result. It's due out officially by post on Friday but there are signs the results will be published online shortly. I'll keep you posted!

New Shoes

2009-08-04T14:19:00.006Z

After drooling after some of the Jimmy Choo shoes, I decided to buy this pair. No, I haven't gone mad and shelled out hundreds of pounds, I used my head and ordered them from Amazon [independent dealers] instead.

They were a snip at £16.99 and arrived within a couple of days. The heel is a little higher than I normally wear these days. But a girl has got to have a pair of killer heels. Wish I'd had the guts to purchase a pair of the red patent though!

I also purchased a pair of denim sandals. These were only a tenner and very comfortable.

As I write this I realise I have a bit of an obsession with shoes. There are seven pairs discarded on the floor beside me. I have got to stop using the computer room as a dressing/undressing room!

I will have a pair of Jimmy Choos one day, probably in the sale or maybe to reward myself for achieving something special...

Noise Pollution

2009-08-03T23:04:00.006Z

Why are some people so disrespectful of others' feelings? I went to bed late and thought I would have a bit of a lie in the following morning as I didn't have to go into work until lunchtime. So I thought I'd get up around 9 am or thereabouts.

However, I was woken at 7.45 by an horrendous noise sounding like some sort of disc cutter. I jumped out of bed and ran to the window but could see nothing. It sounded very nearby and I thought: "Who the heck is doing work at this time of the morning?" Then I noticed my neighbour up the road walking down the street and talking to some men. It appeared that they were working on the large house next to him and were using his private car park without his permission.

My neighbour must have okayed them using his car park to gain access to the house next door and dump some of the rubble there. The disc cutter noise and something sounding akin to a pneumatic drill sounded intermittently all morning. It looked as if they were digging up paving stones and tearing down a side wall. The best of it was it looks as if the family who live in the house have gone on holiday, so they have no problem with the noise.

I don't think I would have minded so much if the workmen had started work a little later, I just hate being woken up. It puts me in a bad mood for the rest of the day.

Although where I live looks as though it would be a quiet little area, there is often a lot of noise going on somewhere. As someone once told me, "It's the age of the power tool." So if someone isn't have their house updated hammering from dawn till dusk they are making other forms of noise.

I was once woken by two neighbours chatting outside at 6 am! What's the matter with people? The men are around retirement age and don't have to get up to go to work. So why are they outside chatting at that time of the morning? One of the men regularly used to wake us up when he came home following a night out with his wife and another couple. That went on for years until the club they visited closed down.

People don't seem to have so much respect for their neighbours any more. Maybe it's just me. Perhaps I have been unlucky this time, I don't remember having this problem where I lived before. Or maybe I am just a bit of a grump!

The World of Mills and Boon

2009-08-01T10:08:00.006Z

Whenever the phrase 'romance writer' is used I bet you conjure up a particular image? For a lot of people it might be a picture of someone not unlike Barbara Cartland, reclining on a chaise lounge in a floaty pink outfit, churning out novels each and every day.

So it might come as a bit of a surprise to know that some romance writers are quite beefy men. I met a couple at an RNA writing conference a few years ago. This morning I found an online article about one called Roger Sanderson who writes as Gill Sanderson. I haven't read any of his books yet, but I recognise the name.

Read full article here:

A snippet from the article implies that Roger is not alone in his pursuit as a male in a female dominated world. Who could image a former SAS man penning novels as 'Molly Jackson'? Or even that the author of The Wizard of Oz, L. Frank Baum, penned stories for girls as 'Edith Van Dyne'?

You might be wondering why I am writing about such things this morning? I accidentally stumbled upon an online extract from a book which I think is 'The Story of Mills and Boon'. If interested, you can view it here:

One of the things mentioned is that the firm confirms an important point for would-be authors in their guidelines that they are in the business of entertainment and that escapism needs to be based on reality.

That's why I am often puzzled when people speak of a Mills and Boon World as if it is some super duper haven where everything goes exceedingly well.

Anyone who has read a Mills and Boon book will know that that's not the case at all. For from it. For a start for a romance story to work there needs to be some sort of conflict and quite often the hero and heroine don't hit it off to begin with. And even if they do, there tends to be a period of time towards the end of the book when the Black Moment occurs. This is the moment when all appears lost. The reader may get the impression that the couple will go their separate ways but wills them to stay together. Of course, all is not lost. It never is in a Mills and Boon book. That's the beauty of it. The reader needs the Happy Ever After Ending or else will feel cheated. It's even been said in its time that reading one of these books was better than taking a Valium. I can well believe it.

But to get back to what people say of this Mills and Boon World. Even on the TV programme, Loose Women, this week it was mentioned in such a way as if to imply that one of these novels is a long way from reality. I disagree. More so now than ever do they reflect the modern world of romance. Some of them have mentioned terrorism, drugs and murder. They aren't all safe little stories for gullible little women. The heroines these days are often independent types with careers and know what they want from a man, not content to just lie back and think of England.

I say to these people who have a hazy vision of this genre, read a Mills and Boon book to find out what they're really like. Apparently 4 in 10 women read them [although I suspect many don't admit to it] and 11 million M&B novels are sold in this country.

It's strange though, why do I appear to be the only person who browses that particular shelf at my local WHS? Do women sidle along in disguise, looking both ways to ensure they aren't being watched, then sneak one from the shelf hiding it under a copy of Gardener's Weekly as they slink to the counter to pay for it?

Let's be up front about it. I'm coming out of the closet.

"My name is Lynette and I'm a Mills and Boon Junkie..."

The story behind the shoes...?

2009-07-27T13:34:00.007Z

I've often wondered when I'm walking with the dogs, the stories behind various discarded items. Yesterday, I passed a white pair of flowered pumps that looked as though they may have once belonged to a teenager. The sole was torn out of the one and then, several feet away, lay the other in a small glass bus shelter.

What's the story there?

And why was the sole totally torn out of the one, yet the other was perfectly intact?

Did the young girl hop on a bus barefoot to get herself home? Or did she have a new pair for emergencies in her bag?

Further along was a man's blue hooded top discarded in a hedge.

A few weeks ago I even noticed a pair of Y-Fronts draped over a bush.

I'm even more bemused when I find one odd shoe. Like a red stiletto, discarded. Did someone lose it in the dark, or perform a Cinderella act at the stroke of midnight? And why leave one shoe behind? It must be mighty hard hobbling home on one five inch heel.

One day I was in the town and noticed a pair, of what looked like designer shoes on a flight of stairs, at the back of the shopping centre. Had someone tried them on and ran out of the store with them?

Who knows!

Lately I've been seeing odd rubber gloves on my travels. Usually blue. All sorts of explanations have come to mind regarding those! My son thinks it's more likely to be a dog walker cleaning up after their dog. But if that were the case, why clean the poo and leave the rubber glove behind?

The mind boggles...

Badfinger- No Matter What

2009-07-23T21:13:00.001Z

Love this song!

Women want to read more sex in novels?

2009-07-21T14:56:00.004Z

According to an article in Marie Claire Magazine, Women Want to Read About Sex. I can well believe this.

I wondered and I worried when my first book, It Happened One Summer, was published that the content might put some readers off. I remember telling my husband, "What would the elderly ladies think of it?" He replied: "They'll love it!" And they did and they do. Not that my books are over explicit mind you. I had thought that three letter word would not slip into my books, but I let the characters take over and they had other ideas.

The ages ranges of my readers are anything from 19 to 90 and beyond! I was really surprised when my mother sold one of my books to a 93 year old at a senior citizen's meeting. She must have liked it as she came back to purchase my next book. Having said that, she must have been a game girl as she had a boyfriend.

I've even read of romance readers who say that reading that genre has helped them in the bedroom department. I can well believe that, too. There's nothing like a little spice and raunch to put you in the mood.

Some of my readers are men, which surprised me. We don't tend to think of men reading romance novels, but they do, perhaps though many don't care to admit it.

I'd like to see romance novels properly categorised in book stores instead of being slotted in with general fiction. In the US they celebrate romance writing whereas we seem to ridicule it in this country. Dame Barbara Cartland was often a figure of fun in comedy sketches and in articles, yet she was one of the most prolific writers of the twentieth century. Ms. Cartland got into the Guinness Book of Records by selling over 1,000 million books in over 36 countries.

I honestly don't know if the three letter word crept into any of her novels, I expect it didn't. I am going to have to read one one day to find out!

Reviews for' It Happened One Summer'

2009-07-18T14:41:00.002Z

"This is a comforting book, and I sensed that from the first page. Reading it is like curling up in a window seat on a cold gloomy day, with a fire crackling on the hearth, and a good book in your lap! The reader just instinctively knows that there will be a happily-ever-after conclusion, and instinctively that propels one forward through the book, with trust and optimism. Top recommendations for this one, and I anticipate future stories from this wonderful author!"

Reviewer: Annie Euro-Reviews 5 star excellent!

"Ms. Rees instills characters that leave a lasting impression with wonderful dialogue that enhances the story. The secondary characters are a welcome addition to the storyline. Ms. Rees knows how to hook the reader and fascinate in this compelling page-turner. It Happened One Summer is a phenomenal read that should not be missed."

~ The Romance Studio 5 hearts ~

"Ms. Rees fashions a tender romance with quick conversation that keeps everything flowing smoothly. The secondary characters are well-rounded and lend dimension to the story. She weaves a compelling story mixed with jealously, greed and betrayal that grabs the reader. This most refreshing read makes one feel good all the way down to the toes. This is one book that is truly a recommended read."

~ Fallen Angel Reviews, 5 Angels, Recommended Read ~

Purchase book here:

http://www.thewildrosepress.com/it-happened-one-summer-paperback-p-3081.html

Murdered for his money?

2009-07-12T08:41:00.008Z

There are now reports from Michael Jackson's family, particularly La Toya Jackson, that he was murdered. She claims there was a circle of shadowy figures who kept him from his family. He supposedly kept around £ 1 million at his home, and that along with some jewellery, has now gone missing.

See here:

And what the LA police chief says here:

Maybe Michael Jackson was murdered, who knows? There is a second autopsy report and toxicology report due shortly. But I can't help thinking that all of this is reminding me of when Princess Diana died. There are still people around today who believe she was murdered by some sort of secret service or even members of the royal family.

Could it be that people, particularly Michael's family, don't want to accept that he might have died from a self induced drugs overload and would prefer to think there were 'shadowy figures' out there responsible for his death.

In one article I read, La Toya claims that Michael was 'the loneliest man in the world' and had no real friends. Yet, I know of at least one good friend he had and that was Mark Lester, the former child star from the movie, Oliver. Jackson often visited Mark's home and they did 'normalish' things together. Mark is a godparent to Michael's children, so he must have trusted him. I also noticed him at the the memorial service.

Could it be that most of his family were so out of touch with Michael that they had no idea what was going on in his life? After all, it's often the case when someone dies that the people who did the least have the most to say. I hope I'm wrong about that though...

Me and my purse

2009-07-11T15:47:00.005Z

I don't know what it is about me and purses, but I can never keep one for long. It's not so much that I lose them, although that has happened before now. More that I end up breaking into so many notes that there's always a lot of change in my purse which eventually starts busting out through the sides. It wasn't until I was going for the bus yesterday and could hear coins chinking against the pavement that I realised it was my purse bulging at the seams again.

The problem is that I get so used to the particular purse I have that no other one compares. I searched around town all afternoon looking for the perfect purse. They were either much too small without a section for credit/debit cards etc., or they were far too large. I managed though finally to find the perfect purse in New Look of all places. I wouldn't normally think to look in there. There was also the added bonus that it was half price, so I had it for £3.00 instead of £6.00. So I am one happy bunny until all those coins mount up again and split my purse open. If only I were more organised!

shaheen sings at micheal jackson's memorial. best quality upload

2009-07-08T20:12:00.001Z

This was the amazing performance of Shaheen Jafargholi from Swansea, at Michael Jackson's memorial on the 7th of August, 2009.

It Happened One Summer is back in print!

2009-07-06T17:06:00.004Z

It Happened One Summer, my first novel, is now back in print! The Wild Rose Press now has their own book store and it's more economical for them to sell books via that than Amazon. Copies of the book can be purchased here:
http://www.thewildrosepress.com/it-happened-one-summer-paperback-p-3081.html

Here's a short excerpt:

http://silverlady00.tripod.com/id1.html

And some reviews:

http://silverlady00.tripod.com/id11.html

Over Heated

2009-07-04T16:13:00.006Z

I went to work on Wednesday, and have to admit to feeling uncomfortably hot that day, but kept a bottle of water by my side and took frequent sips. I was dressed reasonably cool in a cotton short sleeve blouse and denim skirt and sandals. I waited at the bus stop to go home for around 10 -15 minutes, in the hot sun. I wore sun glasses but there was no shade. The bus when it turned up, felt like a green house inside. I walked around the town and did some shopping before ringing my husband from Wilkinsons to pick me up. I purposely chose that store as it's air conditioned and I could sit down and sip my bottle of water.

During the evening I felt pretty up beat. I sat outside in the shade for a short period of time and then cooked the evening meal. I went to bed before midnight with a mug of tea but couldn't drink much of it. This is usually a good indication with me if my stomach is playing up as I love my cup of tea.

I awoke early the next day with a splitting headache and extreme nausea. I rang in sick for work. I spent the majority of the day retching, nursing a sore head [that I couldn't take pain killers for because of the nausea], and extreme drowsiness. It was quite scary -- my husband was at work and my son was out for the day.

When I got up to go to the bathroom I felt giddy.

I rested as much as I could, took sips of water and put a cold compress on my head. There was nothing else I could do.

I realised by now it was heat exhaustion. I developed this back in 1976 during that extremely hot summer, but then I was out in the sun most of the time. This time I wasn't. The following day I still felt slightly head achy but able to eat a little.

Today, I am still off my food a bit and developed a sore neck for some reason when out shopping this afternoon.

What scares me is why I developed heat exhaustion this time when I wasn't doing anything particularly wrong? I kept as cool as I could, sipped water, kept in the shade when I could.

I am worried in case it happens again.

Maybe I am one of those people who is more prone to temperature rise and fall as I once fainted after being in the snow as a child.

Next time it's a hot day maybe I need to avoid hot drinks, drink double the amount of water, carry around a portable fan and if possible, avoid the bus altogether!

Forty Years Ago Today

2009-07-01T09:21:00.004Z

Forty years ago today is the anniversary of the Investiture of Prince Charles at Caernarfon Castle, North Wales, when Prince Charles was crowned the Prince of Wales.

There was a lot of excitement going on at that time. I was eight years old and part of it. For weeks before there were preparations for street parties. In our street, Gladstone Terrace, the mothers got together with mothers from nearby streets to plan the party that was to be held in Hankey Place, a nearby side street. We lived on the main road, so a street party outside the front door was unthinkable.

It was a great day as tables and chairs were set out in the street. Mothers brought sandwiches, sausages on sticks, cakes, jellies and blancmanges.

Games were played and silly hats worn. The games that stick in my mind though are the ones the adults took part in like the mothers' races. My mother came joint first with another one, but I think it was ruled that the other child's mother had won by a hair's breadth. I was disappointed for my mother though. It would have been nice for her to have won something.

When the adults were busy playing bingo, I sneaked back home, probably to use the loo, and discovered that for the first time our duck had laid an egg. I remember being surprised at how big it was and took it to show my mother. Luckily I didn't drop it.

The sun shone all day that day.

When the events slowed down and people drifted away to go home, we were given a party bag with a toffee apple, sweets and a special commemorative mug to mark the prince's special day. I still have it on a shelf at home.

It was a day I'll never forget. A day when all the community got together to celebrate a very special event.

WHS: What's going on?

2009-06-29T15:12:00.007Z

What's going on with WHSmith? For sometime now, I have noticed the one in my local town is on the decline. First of all, they closed the upstairs. It used to house quite a large music and video/CD department. Then I noticed a few months ago that they were bulking out the CDs and DVDs downstairs with empty cases to make it look as though there were more for sale than there were. They were also photocopying covers in black and white to insert in the cases.

On Saturday, I went in there to see if they had any Michael Jackson CDs and was astonished that the wall of CDs downstairs had disappeared. I asked a young man where they were and he pointed to a very small stand behind me. Then he informed me that they were going to stop selling them altogether in the near future.

This is like the end of an era. When I was a growing up, it was usually WHSmith or Woolies I went to look for my music [cassettes, singles and LPs back then of course.] In those days there was a special counter with someone serving just on the music department.

I don't know if this phenomenon of a decline is only happening in towns like mine where a big Tesco has been erected just yards away or if other WHSmiths in other towns are going the same way. The problem is that Tesco stocks practically all the same things that Smiths does and probably for a lot cheaper. It even sells some of the more specialist magazines.

Smiths was the place I used to go for my 'back to school/ or college' pens and papers, my weekly magazines and my music. Tesco isn't the same for me. It's a souless place. A giant engulfing the town and putting little businesses, well, out of business.

Dorothy Perkins left the town a couple of weeks ago and I hear that Burtons has either already gone or is on its way out. Of course we have them at the retail park, but again, that's not the same.

How long will it be before we see a piece of tumbleweed blowing down the High Street?

Michael Jackson - Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough

2009-06-28T16:54:00.002Z

One of my favourite Michael Jackson tracks. It reminds me of when I ran away to Blackpool!

The Death of a Legend

2009-06-26T09:41:00.005Z

I was so sorry to hear of the death, late last night UK time, of Michael Jackson. He played the song track to my youth and beyond. One of his songs that really gets me is 'Ben'. They played it as a slow dance at the school disco of my first year at comp when I was almost 12. Chokes me up that song.

I don't know why, but I wasn't so surprised about his death as I have been when other legends such as Elvis and Princess Diana died. Maybe it's because he became reclusive in his latter years, and of course, we didn't seem to hear of any new releases from him for a long time.

It has been suggested that next month's concerts were a trigger for his death, insomuch as he might have been taking painkillers and maybe some sort of uppers. But at this point in time, it's all speculation. His concert dates were originally for 10 days but this increased to a whopping 50! Which would be gruelling for any performer no matter what their age or physical condition.

Of course, the sad thing is that even in death, there are still issues brought back up in the media. Yet, he was cleared of those, so the slate should have been wiped clean. I never believed those allegations. Who knows what effect the traumatic events had on his health? I think he was naive and childlike. A person who wanted to bring about peace in the world. A genuine good guy. I hope the doubters will get to see that in time.

The King of Pop has left behind a wonderful legacy by leaving us his music to enjoy for many years to come. I wouldn't be surprised if one of his former hits goes back to number one, in the album and singles charts.

Killed by cows

2009-06-22T09:54:00.003Z

I was upset to read a news item posted at Yahoo this morning, entitled:

"Dog Walker Is Killed By Stampeding Cattle"

Upset, but not surprised. On more than one occasion I have walked my dogs and come across a herd of cows who have been more than a little intimidating when they have their calves with them. Sometimes, I have been taken by surprise when the herd have been where they aren't supposed to be. They seem to signal to one another by making a strange sound and give me the evil eye.

I have hoped and prayed as I walked by they didn't charge at us. Luckily the dogs were on their leads but I felt it best to walk at a normal pace and avoid eye contact when close up.

People have laughed at me when I've said I've felt threatened by them and asked, how could a cow possibly kill you? I replied, "Well if one fell on top of you, their weight would kill you for a start." I didn't know for certain then that they could stampede someone to death.

I notice in the article it said the same thing happened to another woman the year before.

The main thing to remember when out walking, particularly with dogs, is to respect the countryside. And to particularly respect the cows when they have their young offspring with them.

You just never know what could happen otherwise...

Crafting the Romance Novel

2009-06-19T16:52:00.005Z

The latest edition of my e-book, Crafting the Romance Story, is now available from Lulu. There is a bonus chapter on 'Crafting the Love Scene' and it's available to you at a reduced cost of £4.00.

Here are the contents which include worksheets and character charts:

~ Chapters~

1. The Hero

2. The Heroine

3. Complimentary Characters

4. Where can I get my ideas from?

5. Conflict/Obstacles

6. Dialogue

7. Plot

8. Crafting the Love Scene

9. Beginnings, Middles and Endings

10. The Black Moment

11. Happily Ever After?

12. Marketing Your Submission

13. Useful Books and Websites

All the links have been updated and new writing markets added. This is only an 86 page book but it's packed with relevant, easy to digest information.

Click here to download now:

http://www.lulu.com/content/e-book/crafting-the-romance-story/7300519

Me the Super Hero

2009-06-17T09:59:00.002Z

I don't know what this image says about me...I popped over to read Liz Fielding's blog this morning and discovered she had turned herself into a comic super hero. So, I thought I'd try it too. If you want to have a go, click here:

http://cpbherofactory.com/

Writing for free or for payment?

2009-06-16T20:16:00.008Z

I usually advocate that it's best for a writer to write for payment. Now by this I'm not saying that a writer needs to be paid for every word he or she writes. After all, I'm not getting paid to write this blog, although of course there are ways of being paid to blog. What I'm saying is there are times when it's only right for a writer to be paid. An example of this would be if a writer is asked to write a column for a magazine on a regular basis, if that publisher is being paid for advertising and is paying other members of staff, then that would only appear fair for the writer in question to be paid.

It's a controversial issue. I believe in writing for free if it's to benefit a cause like a charity or to help someone out, but in the main I believe writers should be paid like any other profession.

Over the years, these are the kinds of things I have been paid for [not always large amounts mind you, but as the Tesco ad goes: Every little helps!]

1. Non fiction articles published online and in magazines

2. Short stories online and in magazines

3. Running online writing workshops

4. Running writing therapy groups

5. Royalties from my novels

I can even remember a time one month when I earned as much from writing as I do from my day job. However, post 911 a lot of online writing markets dried up or paid less. I had had a regular writing column but the website in question suddenly decided to stop paying writers. Their argument was "If you want to play a round of golf, you have to pay a fee!" To this day, I have no idea what was meant by it. Lots of writers pulled out of that website. I might have stayed but they also took away our free e-mail addresses.

So, along with lots of other writers, I left.

Not so long afterwards they began paying writers but in a different way. It was all about keywords and getting hits to the site. I think the money writers earned was probably a pittance for a lot of work. I don't think that site has the same feel to it anymore, somewhere along the line it lost it's energy, outlook and what it stood for.

There was another time when a new Canadian women's magazine was due to launch. I was offered a stint to write a regular column on personal development. However, the downside was I wouldn't be paid for it. The editor said I could write for it to 'make a name for myself' and then perhaps she would pay me!!!

Now, I wasn't that hard up to get my name in print. And I told her so. I also told her that as her magazine ran paid advertisements, and all the regular staff got paid, then so should their freelancers. Later on, after I had opted out, I found out she did indeed pay freelancers, but it was a pittance, but still, better than nothing.

I have witnessed online flame wars over the writing for pay issue, mainly from the people who think it's acceptable to write for publications like the one above, for free. How can a writer gain respect if all they do is write for nothing and maybe even put another freelancer out of a job by doing so?

Write for free on your website, in your journal, or to help a cause or someone out. But don't do it for the sake of it, especially, if it costs you dear in the long run.

Good old paper and pen!

2009-06-11T18:07:00.005Z

Well, I have to say after my last post about my ailing novel, I went back to good old paper and pen today and it worked a treat. I had a break at work and my hand flew over the page. I managed around 1,500 words in quite a short space of time. Now the vicar is out of the bath and I have discovered something new about one of my characters.

I may try this a lot more in the future.

When I first started writing seriously about ten years ago, I always used pen and paper in the first instance and then typed it up. Over the years though I thought it was quicker and easier to go straight to the keyboard. It makes me wonder if in the process I lost some of my creativity that way. Does one use a different side of the brain or something when typing as opposed to writing, do you think?

It definitely cleared the cobwebs for me today!

Why am I so slow writing this novel?

2009-06-10T10:06:00.003Z

This really is a mystery to me. I started writing a follow up to A Taste of Honey, my romantic comedy, more than two years ago. That particular book was a pleasure to write and practically wrote itself. However, its follow up, A Spoonful of Sugar, is hard work. I wrote a follow up to one of my other novels, using two of the secondary characters from the first book as the heroine and heroine in the second. I am doing the same thing now but it's crawling along at a snail's pace.

It's not that I'm not happy with what I've written either or that the plotline so far has holes in it. I just seem to work on it in fits and starts. Yet, with everyone of my previous novels I have got them finished within months if not sooner.

I managed 1000 words the other day, which was great for me on this novel. My record is up to 6000 a day on my others.

At the moment I have left a funky motorbike and sidecar driving female vicar with her toe stuck up the tap whilst she's taking a bath! The hero, Antonio Santini and heroine, Suzie Frampton, have just arrived to rescue her.

Got to get the rev out of there soon. I can't leave her in a cold bath for months!

Does anyone have any idea why I am lagging behind with this book when the story reads quite well and I am enjoying the process but have to keep stopping and starting again?

This is a new one for me.

I want to finish it as one of my fans [yes, I do actually have some!] as just purchased A Taste of Honey and is asking about further publications.

I may have to try going back to pen and paper to see how that goes, instead of sitting in front of the keyboard.

Let down and letting it go

2009-06-06T15:32:00.005Z

If there's one thing I really hate, it's being let down. It's happened to me a couple of times during this past week. One of the people who let me down is a family member that I love dearly. I could see it coming, and to be honest, I believe there is something behind it that I won't go into here.

I think the reason I take issues like this badly is because I go out of my way not to let people down myself, even though there are times like when I'm ill or have a specific need myself, I put them first.

I seem to spend my time thinking more about others than I do about myself.

It's got me thinking though that perhaps it's time I started to think about myself and my own needs more and then I wouldn't feel so bad when people let me down.

I haven't been on holiday for five years, apart from the odd couple of days here and there. So, I am going to book a holiday, hopefully for July, with my mother to somewhere on the coast, maybe Bournemouth or Torquay. I need to go away with someone who has similar values to myself. Someone who enjoys eating out and not penny pinching, someone who will try new things and experiences. The last thing I need is to go away with someone who is going to wind me up and stress me out.

My well is running dry and I need to top it up. I've given about all I can give, there's very little left. At least I recognise that.

Publishing Success: Do you need to go down the university route?

2009-05-31T07:44:00.016Z

One of the first things that writer, Della Galton, says in her book 'How to Write and Sell Short Stories' is 'Don't let anyone tell you that you need a university education to be a successful writer'. [This is an excellent book by the way, I highly recommend it.] Not that there's anything wrong in obtaining a university education, far from it. I was so proud of my daughter when she got a 2:1 in psychology last year and I watched her graduate.

I think I know what Della means though.

Last year I took a course with the Open University on Literature and Creative Writing, something I have wanted to do for ages. I think there is part of me that yearns to get a degree. A kind of 'Educating Nettie' if you like.

Yet, while I felt the course was quite good, I think it could also put people off writing.

Why? You might ask.

Because I feel it boxes people in. It puts limits on their writing. For example, some students were told they needed 80% and above for their work to be of publishable quality. I disagree. Although I have passed my assignments, mostly in the 70 - 75% bracket, I never once achieved an 80% score. Well not yet. Although I have to wait for my ECA score to be marked which is worth 50% of the course marks. So, I haven't achieved those marks [as yet] but I am already published.

I wasn't happy with the way my tutor marked some of my assignments in any case. For my first assignment she gave me a 0% for my free write because I'd used punctuation. I free write all the time, but I'm so used to doing it that I automatically use punctuation. Some other students on the course had also done the same thing but their tutors didn't mark them down for it. So as a result, for one assignment, I immediately lost 20 % of the marks. I should have challenged it at the time of course. Too late now, it's sour grapes.

To get back to that 80% required for publication...I believe it's far more important for a writer to read guidelines, target the right market, then write an engaging piece that's so polished it positively sparkles on the editor's desk.

From reading some of the other students' comments, although they have done fairly well, it sounds as though they are still doubting they can be published. I am so glad I didn't take this course ten years ago when I first started seeking publication. I took a short course back then that was run by the university at my local library. I learned so much from other students there.

Next I joined a Yahoo group called Momwriters. It still exists today. As the group name suggests it's a group of mothers who write [although fathers are allowed to join as well.] Finding that group was like discovering a precious gem. Some were editors, others experienced writers who wrote for magazines or had books published. One was the ex-comedy editor of Playboy Magazine and the writer of the movie Blue Streak. I learned so much being a member of that group. If I wanted to write a magazine article there was always someone to interview about something or other. Whether it was an article about extended breast feeding or how to cope with your pets on holiday. There was someone who could give me valuable advice or a read through.

Back then, I didn't see any obstacles. There was only the blank page, my creativity and my persistence to get published. It finally paid off as I got pieces published online, in magazines and eventually of course, the novels.

I also took some writing courses with people who were experts in their own particular fields. Like Marcia Yudkin who ran a Break into Magazines Course. Marcia is published in The New York Times and Cosmo. I also took an online course with Leigh Michaels, a Mills and Boon author, at what was then called 'The Barnes and Noble University'. The course was excellent, I learned so much and it didn't cost me a penny.

But what if I had taken that OU course before getting published? Then I think I would have set myself limits and doubted my skill as a writer. I truly believe it might have put me off. Don't get me wrong, of course I have learned things from the course. There's always something new to learn as a writer.

I met one of the contributors to the course book at a writing workshop some years ago. He was getting paid handsomely for supposedly teaching us about 'Internet Publishing'. The man didn't have a clue. He thought everyone who was published online got paid-per-click. He looked astonished when I told him I received a monthly cheque for my writing column. He gave a lot of misinformation to people during the workshop that I had to correct him on.

After saying all of this, I will carry on with my OU course. I want to achieve the Diploma in Literature and Creative Writing. I want to take the advanced course because it includes scriptwriting. I doubt very much if that module will be taught by a scriptwriter though. Maybe I need to write that script for Doctors before I move on to the advanced course, so I don't place any limitations on myself by being told I need 80% or above in my assignments to achieve publishing success.

Maybe I want to carry on to prove I have the ability to be an academic, but at least I realise when it comes to writing, I learned more from the 'School of Life' than a university.

Sending my brain on vacation

2009-05-24T16:38:00.007Z

I've been feeling a little overwhelmed of late. This might be because I am doing too much, mentally. As well having as several writing projects on the go and just completing my course work for my Open University course, I also have work which takes a lot of my mental energy, so I feel a little overloaded.

I know it's time to slow down because I am becoming forgetful. For instance I went upstairs this morning [twice] to get a bar of soap for the kitchen and returned on both occasions without it.

It was while I was feeling flustered cooking Sunday lunch for six that I noticed I hadn't put the broccoli on to boil. I heard a little voice inside my head. No, it wasn't that kind of a voice. It was my inner voice. It said, quite clearly: "Send your brain on vacation." So, that's what I intend to do. No more writing for a week. I am also going to try to keep off the Internet [easier said than done].

I am going to let my tired brain rest for a while.

And while it's soaking up the sun in the Bahamas, my body will carry on.

I'll let you know if it works.

Why I write

2009-05-21T17:57:00.005Z

If I asked you, why do you write? How would you reply?

Maybe you'd say something like one of the following:

"I've been writing since I was a child..."

"It's a form of escapism for me."

"It's my passion."

"It makes me feel complete."

"I get a kick out of creating something from a blank page."

Maybe you agree with all of the above, or maybe you have something completely different to say about the subject.

All I can do, as I can't second guess, is tell you why I write. Yes, like one of the above comments, I have written since I was a child. I wrote stories in school and sometimes the class teacher read them out. I made my own magazines. I sat all my dolls and teddies in a semi circle and became the teacher who gave them homework. Of course, I had to give them a hand, so there was even more writing to do.

I kept diaries until I was in my twenties.

I did all of that and then for many years I put my writing aside as life took over.

I then began writing short pieces when I had my first child and again when I had depression during and after the birth of my second child. During the dark days, when it was an effort to make a cup of tea, wash dishes, and do general household tasks, as well as look after two young children, I could still pick up a pen and write.

I wrote poems about the mood I was in. I wrote essays about how I was feeling. I'm sure this helped me through the depression and I was fortunate to come off my antidepressants within four months. What was happening without me realising it, was that I was writing for therapy.

As many of you know, I am a huge advocate of this and I've had experience of running an online group and two groups which are currently still meeting at the cancer centre where I work as a counsellor.

I've had some publishing success over the years, but it wasn't handed to me on a plate. I've had my fair share of rejections, but I don't give up when I have one, in a strange sort of way it spurs me on.

The real reason I write though is because I have to. To me, writing is as essential as breathing and if I gave it up, I would die, metaphorically speaking of course. I write for therapy. I write for enjoyment. Sometimes I write for payment. Most of all, I write because I am passionate about it.

So, why do you write?

I'd love to know.

I'm so glad I have a great publisher

2009-05-20T12:23:00.006Z

A Publisher Worth its Weight in Gold

Nothing is too much for one of my publishers, The Wild Rose Press. If I have a query about something they get back to me within days or even hours of my query. They are a joy to work with and I am proud to be known as one of their authors.

This is a far cry from the first publisher I got published with [who shall remain anonymous]. It was hard to get a reply to any of my queries there. Once, I had concerns about something serious and contacted three members of staff. Not one of them replied. Another time, books I ordered for a charity book launch failed to arrive after six weeks and they seemed unconcerned. They even spelled my name wrong. It was correct on the cover but not at the top of each page of the book, despite me mentioning to them six times they got it wrong on their website.

I'm glad though that this was my first publisher and although it took some of the shine off my experience of publication, I learned some valuable lessons.

I managed to pull both my books from them and went on to get them republished with The Wild Rose Press as well as two new ones there. My editors have been lovely to work with, allowing me to keep to British spellings and sayings. This is important to me as I don't want to Americanise my books. No offence to any Americans out there, but I believe a writer should keep true to themselves. If I buy a book by a foreign author then I want it to reflect the ethos of that particular country.

So, my advice when looking for a publisher, especially if it is your first time is to check out what other authors are saying about them. Are the lines of communication good? Do they care about their writers? Don't be afraid to ask around, it could save you a lot of hassle and heartache.

Just write the book

2009-05-17T08:25:00.009Z

A new writer can worry so much about the technique of writing that they don't actually get much writing done.

Concerns such as: How should I begin my novel? How many words should a chapter be? Do I need to make charts beforehand? Should I outline? Are common questions not just to self but to other writers and tutors.

My main advice about this is if you worry too much about technique it might sap your creative energy.

When I first started off trying to write a novel around ten years ago I had similar questions, but realised one day, it was time to just get on with writing. I already had a plot in mind: a teenager who goes missing after chatting with someone on the Internet. My main character was a detective called, Declan McKeague. A large Irishman, who bungled things up, but was a lovable character.

Initially, I wrote a chapter or two and read them out at the writing group I attended at the local library. They went down quite well, so I wrote more chapters but run out of steam and put that project aside. I never finished the book but I completed 8 chapters of it.

What I had done though in the process was learn a lot about novel writing. How to maintain pace, how to create suspense, craft a scene, etc.

I wrote three trial run novels that way, and to be honest, when I look back on them now, I can see how much my writing has improved! What I'd done without realising it was to give myself a masterclass in novel writing and all for free!

Sure, I read books about the topic but I threw myself in the deep at the same time. That's why I believe that Nanowrimo , National Novel Writing month, is a great thing for new writers. They are forced to turn off their internal editor and get into the process of novel writing to create a draft of 50,000 words within the month of November. Of course, you could do this yourself during any given month, but taking part in the challenge with other writers can help to motivate and inspire you to get that draft down.

Reading books about novel writing and taking courses is a good thing: learning from people who have already achieved their ambition, but there is nothing like getting your toes wet and having a crack at it for yourself. Don't fear failure. Rejection happens to everyone, even the big names out there. Most authors were once in the same position and have probably got drawers full of dusty, flawed manuscripts before going on to get published.

As Nike says:

Just do it!

A Five Star Review: How to Write and Sell Short Stories

2009-05-16T15:35:00.005Z

I love Della Galton's book, "How to Write and Sell Short Stories"

So far at Amazon.co.uk it has received five star reviews which I totally agree with.

Della writes for many of the well known women's magazines such as:

My Weekly, People's Friend, Take a Break, Candis, Woman's Weekly etc.

So you know when you read this book, she is someone who knows what she is talking about. She shares her tips with her readers as well as sharing some of the mistakes she has made.

The book is an easy read that you can dip in an out of. I also like the fact she has included tips from other well known magazine writers.

Another bonus is that if you order the book from the above link now, you will get a reduction of £3.00 off the recommended retail price.

The book is worth its weight in gold.

Five Stars: * * * * *

The best part about novel writing

2009-05-07T21:54:00.011Z

For me the best part about novel writing is the first draft when my ideas are not fully formed and I have no idea which way the plot is going. It's a bit like playing a game of blind man's buff or murder in the dark. I don't yet know my way or who the bad guy is.

I like to surprise myself as I go along because I believe if I have no element of surprise then neither will my readers. So it's not unusual for me, not to have worked out until over half way through the book, who the murderer is or what the black moment might be.

As I race towards the finishing line of getting the first draft down I get a rush of adrenaline and when I finally write 'The End' a surge of relief. It's over. At least for now. It's time to allow the casserole to steep in its own juices for a while. So I put the 'baby' to bed.

A couple of weeks later I get the 'baby' out of its cot and it's back to work for revision and edits. This is the worst part of all. I probably end up with three or four drafts. I look for flaws in the plot like loose ends that haven't been tied up. Isn't it awful to read a book where someone is left locked in the loo or you wander what happened to the dog?

I spell check and look for grammar and punctuation errors. I take out extraneous words [as much as possible.] I use 'that' a lot and 'just', the majority of those have to go. There is an easy solution of course, to perform a word search which will highlight any words I wish to delete.

I move paragraphs around.

I try cutting as much as I possibly can. If it's not vital to the plot then it's out! If a character isn't doing anything, then off they go. Sometimes a character can double duty. For example, perhaps the hero can also be the office boss or the heroine's friend her aerobics teacher.

Less is always more.

When all the edits are complete I submit the package which usually consists of the first three chapters, a synopsis and a cover letter. If I'm fortunate that the publisher wants to see the entire novel, then off it goes.

If it's accepted it's back to editing again as per my editor's/publisher's requirements.

This all takes time and to be honest the whole process can take longer than writing the first draft. It is a wonderful feeling though when the galleys go off for the last time and I'm at that moment of waiting to give birth.

I always enjoy discussing the cover art. I have been fortunate so far that my publishers have allowed me to have a say in this. I tell them my vision for the cover and they come back with a picture, sometimes it needs tweaking but more often than not it's just what I wanted.

Edits are a good thing though. My Samhain editor ended up getting me to cut 4000 words of text! But I have to say that it made my writing tighter and the book was a much better read because of it.

So far I have given birth to 'four babies'. It's time to get broody again....

Thrilled

2009-05-06T15:58:00.006Z

Cancer Aid Writing Therapy Group on The Secret Millionaire Channel 4

I was really pleased to receive a gorgeous bouquet of flowers from the writing therapy group I run at the cancer centre today. It came totally out of the blue. I always feel a bit guilty though when people buy me flowers, don't know what it is. Perhaps It's because part of me feels I don't deserve them and another part of me feels I do.

I set up the writing therapy group back in September 2007. I have been interested in the work of Professor James W. Pennebaker at the University of Texas for the past few years and used to run an online writing therapy group. I contacted the professor at the time to ask his advice about setting up a group. I had already read his book 'Opening Up' and his research papers, but wanted to know if there was anything I should bear in mind.

His main advice to me was not to force people to share what they have written. They should only reveal things if they want to. And that is pretty much how I run the group. It's part writing part counselling/therapy.

I get so much out of it myself and would honestly work for nothing as I love my job. My profession as a counsellor is rewarding and I have a passion for writing, so combining both seemed the logical thing to do.

I'm looking forward to meeting with The Secret Millionaire, Jennifer Cheyne, if she comes back to visit our group again. I honestly believe she will.

Seven Ways to Keep the Editor Happy

2009-05-05T07:37:00.004Z

1. Know his name

This might seem obvious – but if you are able, find out the editor’s name before you query or submit your article or story. You can find out the editor’s name by looking at the first few pages of a magazine where it lists the staff, or on the ‘contact us’ link of their website. Do not address him or her by his or her first name initially. It’s a no, no. Address them either as Mr. Ms. Miss or Mrs. If they get back to you and answer just using their Christian name, then it should be fine to use for future correspondence. Keep your contact formal unless you discover otherwise.

2. Read author guidelines

It’s surprising how many newbie authors don’t take time to read the submission guidelines for a magazine or website. It can save a lot of time and trouble. If a magazine asks for articles of no more than 1000 words using a ‘how to’ style, they are going to be seriously ticked off if you submit something that’s 2 ½ K and in first person!

3. Know your target audience

It’s no use submitting an article about teenage troubles to a magazine read by the elderly. Study the magazine beforehand from cover to cover. A good clue to the intended readership of a magazine is the adverts it runs. If you see lots of ads for stairlifts, incontinence pads and magnifying specs, then it’s obviously not for spotty teenagers, whether this particular readership are young at heart or not.

4. Get Image Requirements right

Some magazine editors have a bee in their bonnet about receiving digital photographs with the right dpi. DPI stands for [dots per inch]. In fact, the dpi has nothing to do with the quality of the photograph submitted. You might send in a JPEG with a dpi of 72 and your editor may claim this is not suitable for the quality of print for the magazine. He wants you to send a picture in of a 300 dpi [this seems to be the standard asked for]. So what do you do? Well, rather than arguing with him, you can download Irfan View. This will enable you to open your picture up and change the dpi to 300 by selecting image, resize/resample option and changing to the dpi to 300, then saving a copy. Easy Peasy! Your 72dpi image is now saved as a 300dpi image http://www.irfanview.com/

5. Be flexible

If you get a bite from an editor, whatever you do, don’t go away and nurse your swollen fingers! If he shows interest in your article but asks you to add, cut or rewrite in a particular fashion, then go ahead, be flexible and show him what you’re made of as a writer. Too many writers give up when their work doesn’t immediately get accepted for publication. Be professional and be thankful he has shown an interest in your work at all. Do not throw you teddy out of the pram. Instead, evaluate his thoughts and learn from them.

6. Deliver on time

Okay, so the editor has shown an interest in your article. He wants you to add another 500 words. He would like the article in within a couple of days. It shouldn’t take you that long to come up with 500 words but you’ve procrastinated and now the deadline fast approaches. If you don’t think you can deliver on time, it’s better to say so. And even better not to have procrastinated in the first place. If he wants you to deliver -- then do it. Otherwise, you’re wasting your time in this profession.

7. Do not send him a barrage of e-mails complaining

So, he’s rejected your article. Get over it. As writers we all suffer from rejection at some point. The clever writers realise each rejection is a stepping stone on to better things. If it comforts you, go and eat some chocolate or curl up in the corner, or better still, eat a lot of chocolate while curled up in the corner! Shed a tear if you must, but then dust yourself down. Whatever you do don’t send him a barrage of e-mails whinging about his rejection. If you feel you must ask why you were rejected, go ahead. He might tell you if he has the time. And if he does, pay attention, he’s not an editor for nothing. Rewrite, resend somewhere else and wait. And one day that rejection will become an acceptance if you’re persistent enough. Persistence pays off in the end -- big time.

A Crash Course in Short Story Writing

2009-05-04T11:02:00.007Z

I was inspired to publish this here today after sending someone an e-mail about short story writing.

The main points I've learned over the years are:

* Give your main character [protagonist] a problem that needs sorting out

This doesn't have to be something huge like a fire or a flood, it might be something like a newly married woman who wonders how she will cope when her mother-in-law comes for Christmas dinner.

* Go immediately into where the action takes place

If your story involves the bank getting robbed for instance, then there's no need to start it where the main character is pouring milk on his cornflakes. Go straight into where the action takes place where he is queuing up to deposit some money and two masked men with guns burst in.

* Don't have too many main characters

3 or 4 is enough [max] and perhaps a couple of 'walk on parts' of unnamed characters like the postman or taxi driver.

* Ensure there is a definite beginning, middle and a satisfying ending

A story needs structure. Think of a chart when someone's temperature starts off normal, then goes through the roof. That's how your story should be with a climax at the end. Don't let it go on well after the punch line. Leave them wanting more.

* Make Use of Setting

Setting can become one of the characters in its own right. Think about the dark, brooding house in a horror story or a white, sterile, clinical waiting room. Make use of it in your story.

* Allow the main character to have solved his or her problem by the end of the story

The character needs to have learned and or/grown from it as a result. [Character Arc].

* Ensure you are showing more than telling

Ensure you use lively dialogue where the characters exhibit their mannerisms. Also make use of the five senses. However, sometimes a story might have little dialogue because it's more about going into the character's internal thoughts and feelings. This can work out okay if it is well written, but sometimes sounds a bit 'self indulgent'.

* A 'black moment' can work well before the story reaches its climax.

The moment when things seem impossible: there's no solution to the problem, everything is bleak, etc. However, something then happens that turns it all around and brings the story to its final, but satisfying conclusion.

* It's usually best to stick to one point of view.

Most magazines seem to like third person, although I have read some stories in certain mags that accept first person. I recently read a story in Candis where multi viewpoint was used and it worked very well! I have never seen that used in a short story before, but it goes to show if the writing is strong enough then you might get away with breaking a lot of rules!

And they're off!

2009-04-14T09:28:00.005Z

This is so bizarre. The other night I was in my bathroom when I noticed a very distinct silhouette of a horse on the shower curtain. No, I wasn't drunk or on mind altering medication, but it was so clear. I somehow knew the horse was a male and that there was some connection to a diamond or a star.

I rarely place a bet but I checked out the races held for Easter Monday, which was the following day. There were none with the name 'star' going but there was one I was immediately attracted to called' 'Ffos Las Diamond'. I had a feeling about it.

My hubby placed the bet for me as I wouldn't have a clue what to do. It was running at the 1.55 at Chepstow. Somehow, and I don't know why, I knew it was going to win. At one point it was only in fifth place, but I still knew.

Yes, it won!!! It took over the leader right at the end.

The odds were 7 - 2. Now I wish I had placed a large bet on it. I won enough for us to all have a takeaway and a few drinks though.

Wonder if I will ever see any more winners on my shower curtain again, or was it just all a mad coincidence?

The Secret Millionaire Comes to Merthyr!

2009-04-02T14:44:00.002Z

The Secret Millionare, Jennifer Cheyne, visits my Writing Therapy group at Cancer Aid Merthyr Tydfil. See article here:

The programme will be aired on Sunday, April 5th at 9 pm.

Writing For Payment Or For Art's Sake?

2009-03-23T17:58:00.001Z

"For free or not for free - that is the question?"

Whenever the 'P' word -- PAYMENT -- gets a mention, writers are frequently up in arms. There appear to be two camps of thought: those that think we should all write for free, 'because it is our art', and those who want to get paid what they are worth as a writer. Of course, you yourself, might fall somewhere in between where you prefer to get paid, but will write for free for good causes or if it is to promote yourself.

Recently, I queried a new national magazine and submitted three articles for the editor to peruse. She was looking for columnists as well as article writers. Within the hour an e-mail arrived in my mail box, [the fastest response I have ever had from an editor], to say that she loved one of my articles and wanted to publish it in the following month's debut issue of the magazine.

Warning bells started to ring at her swift response. After all, most of my magazine queries have taken days, weeks or even months for replies. And as any serious writer knows, magazines work months, not days, ahead of time. Not only did she want to publish my article, she wanted to work with me for a further four editions of the magazine.

Sounds fantastic, right? Not so right. The snag was she didn't intend to pay me a single, solitary cent for my time, effort and expertise. It was a case of, 'We'll see how it goes and if we can pay you sometime in the future, then we will!" Well stuff that for a game of soldiers, which is almost what I told her, but not quite. Instead, I told her I thought that writers deserved to be paid and sent her a few helpful links so she could read up on why writers deserve payment. Cheeky, on my behalf, I know, but I was spitting feathers at the time. I didn't need the clippings that bad.

Now, all this is well and good, but when I pointed this out to one of my Yahoo writers' groups, apart from having a cyber pat on the back from some of my contemporaries, I was flamed off list for daring to suggest writers should be paid.

We're back to that art thing. I shouldn't be surprised. I recently attended a writers' workshop. One of the exercises was to write a poem or story in a short space of time. A writer sitting next to me, who I vaguely knew, came up with a fantastic poem off the top of her head. I said, "You are so talented. Have you been published anywhere?"

"No, certainly not!" she replied as if I had said something I shouldn't.

Then I made the mistake of using the 'P' word. "You know, you could get published and PAID for poems like that."

You'd think I'd hit her in the face with a wet fish. When she had got over the initial shock, she replied, "I couldn't possibly take money for something I love."

I just don't get it, but then again neither did she. Are some writers so precious about their words that they feel it is degrading to sell them? When I told her about some of my own publications, I got the distinct impression she thought I was some sort of writing floozie spreading it around a bit, and horror of horror -- for money, too!

You'll know you're being ripped off when:

1. You're writing for free for a magazine that runs paid advertisements or that sells a subscription, products and/or services.

2. You've brought your expertise (teaching, counseling, nursing, computing skills, etc.) into the article and you're still not offered payment.

3. Everyone else at the magazine is being paid. This includes the Internet provider, phone company, electric company, photographers, models, and editorial staff, right on down to the cleaners. Why should everybody else get paid and not you?

4. The magazine says they are giving you plenty of exposure, so why do you need to get paid?

5. Or, as one high profile website put it a couple of years ago when they suddenly stopped paying writers, 'If you were learning to play golf you'd have to pay fees, so why should you expect to get paid for something you love doing?'

You're not being ripped off when:

1. Your writing will help a charity or good cause close to your heart.

2. It will help further your career as a writer by advertising a product or service you're selling.

By the way, the editor of the new national magazine recently contacted me to say they would now be paying writers. Whether this was as a direct response to my cheeky e-mail, I don't know, but it couldn't have hurt, could it?

A Sad Day

2009-03-22T11:14:00.013Z

I was sad to hear that Jade Goody passed away in the early hours of this morning, ironically on Mother's Day. I read reports yesterday that it was hoped she would be conscious enough to spend today with her boys.

Although people have criticised her for being famous for being a celebrity who hadn't done much, except to go into the Big Brother House a few years ago, I think they are wrong. Jade has been an inspiration to women, not just because of her public battle with cancer, but she was a business woman too. It's true, she was the brand, Jade Goody, but there was no one quite like her. She didn't always get her words right, but told it as it was from the heart. She also kept herself in the public eye while she went through her illness via Ok! magazine to build up funds for her boys.

The woman had courage.

Before Christmas I watched her on This Morning on ITV talking to Phillip Schofield and Holly Willoughby about her cancer. She looked quite well, except a little thinner. She was enthused with energy for the panto she was about to go into: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs at the Lincoln Theatre where she was to play the wicked queen. She had plenty of fight in her and told Phillip and Holly: "I am bigger than cancer!"

And she was.

Although she has passed away, she left a legacy of cervical cancer awareness, particularly for young women in this country. It has been reported that there's an increase of 20% more going for smears.

Jade Goody lived up to her name in my book and has done good for both her boys and the public and will continue to do so after her death, by saving more women's lives while sadly losing her own.

Today I am going to appreciate every moment of Mother's Day, hug my children as much as I can while remembering the rug can be pulled away at any time. It's not how much time we have here that counts but what we do with it.

Excerpt # 3 Watching You

2009-03-11T08:28:00.006Z

Angeline was pleasantly surprised by the

man’s appearance, she’d only been able to make out his

silhouette as he stood at the window, but now she slowly

drank him in. The newspaper picture didn’t do him

justice. He was far more attractive. His hair was dark

brown, almost black and he had the most vivid jade green

eyes she’d ever seen. He wore a light pink, expensive

monogrammed shirt with a grey silk tie and gold cufflinks.

Suddenly, she felt very small and insignificant.

“Mr Johnson, my P.A., explained that you were sent

last minute for the interview with me.”

Interview. Cripes. She rather hoped it would be the

other way around and it would be she who was

interviewing him with regard to his intentions towards

the old house.

“What is it you wish to know about me?” she asked in

a forward manner, something she would never do in an

ordinary interview. But this was hardly likely to be an

ordinary interview.

Sitting forward in his leather chair, he steepled his

fingers, all the while still looking through her.

“I’d like to know why you think this position might

suit you?”

She straightened. “Oh. I see. Well I think it might be

a challenge for me. I like a good challenge.” That was a

laugh, she didn’t even know what the position was in the

first place.

“Give me an example of a recent challenge you’ve

taken and overcome.”

Now what was she going to say?

“Well, let me see. I recently needed to leave my home

and look for another and also a job, too.”

“And?” he leaned further forward.

“I had to give up my home so that some stranger with

an eye for business could move in and do what the hell he

likes with it!” Angeline surprised herself with the strong,

passionate tone of her voice.

“This stranger,” Sebastian Tremaine asked, now

leaning back in his chair, “did he evict you from your own

property?”

“No.”

“Then why do you appear to dislike this person?”

Angeline felt that lump return to her throat.

“Because he’s taken away all that I have left, the

memories of my parents for his own selfish ends.” She

heard her voice tremble with emotion and regretted her

decision to come.

Mr Tremaine fell silent for a moment, as if deep in

reflection. “You are Angeline Hamilton, aren’t you?”

She nodded between sobs.

He raised his voice an octave. “Well, is that the case?”

“Yes, it is!” She stood, about to leave his horrible

office.

His face flushed and she noticed a muscle twitch at

the side of his jaw. “Look here. I bought this place and all

the contents fair and square. It was my understanding

that it needed to be sold to pay off all your father’s debts.

You can’t blame me, it’s just not cricket.”

“I know,” she said, heading for the door. She reached

out and found the door knob, comforted to know at least

that’s where it had always been. She turned it a fraction

with bitter regret, knowing she had made a big mistake in

coming here to confront the man.

Sebastian Tremaine stood, then stumbled towards

her. Was he drunk or something? She spied a crystal

decanter of whisky or some other liquor on his desk. It

was then she noticed the white stick in his hand.

Excerpt # 2 from "Watching You"

2009-03-09T12:32:00.002Z

Angeline was so busy job and home hunting that the

idea almost left her mind, but not completely. It came to

the forefront again when she caught sight of Sebastian

Tremaine on the front page of the local paper, The

Bridgeford News, one evening as she purchased a copy at

the local shop to look out for the latest jobs.

There, standing proudly, holding up a large prize fish

with a big grin on his face was the man responsible for

turfing her out of her home. She’d never seen him before,

but could make out how handsome he was even though

the picture was slightly blurred and in black and white.

The headline read:

Business man, Sebastian Tremaine, Takes over

Tarrington Manor House.

Angeline gasped in astonishment as she read the

article which made it sound as if Mr Tremaine would be

an asset to the local community. Fiddlesticks, he was no

more an asset than one of those large out-of-town

hyperstores was to Bridgeford’s retail community. He’d

probably turn the Manor into some sort of a holiday park,

encouraging bus loads of undesirables to flood the village.

What poppycock!

She knew immediately upon reading the article, she

wasn’t going to like the man. Wasn’t going to, never

would. She clenched her fists at her side, feeling as

though she were about to explode into tiny pieces all over

the shop floor.

Count to ten, keep calm. Buy the newspaper and leave

the shop.

She did as her inner voice suggested, intending to

walk back to her cousin’s flat, but instead, found her feet

leading her in the direction of a taxi rank. One of the cabs

displayed an illuminated ‘For Hire’ sign in its window.

She lowered her head to ask the driver to take her

immediately to Tarrington Manor. If the driver was

surprised by her choice of destination, he didn’t show it.

She settled herself down in the back seat of the cab,

wondering why she was returning to her ancestral home

and what she would find when she got there.

Excerpt # 1 from "Watching You"

2009-03-07T21:24:00.004Z

** I'll be posting up a few excerpts from my latest novel, "Watching You", this week. Here's excerpt #1:

The man hid behind a tree, watching the funeral guests as they left the big house, his heart beating a tattoo beneath his shirt. He extracted a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and patted his brow. Must be all the adrenaline flowing around his body, he surmised. This was such an exciting day for him, better than winning any lottery. Ah, yes, revenge is sweet.

Most of the guests wouldn’t want to stay now there was nothing in it for them. Little did they realise it was because of his plan. Oh yes, he’d finally got his hands on the Hamilton money. Not only got his hands on a fortune, but made money on the money by investing it wisely, and now it was stored away securely where they would never find it. Especially that snooty cow. She deserved nothing.

He drew a silver hip flask from his inside pocket, unscrewed its top and took a long swig, gasping as the alcohol took his breath away. He had every right to celebrate--it had been a good day. Especially now he knew the bitch had lost it all. After all, it was the law of the universe, wasn’t it? Karma. What goes around comes around and all that. She’d really done a hatchet job on him some years back. His future was mapped out at the time: a wife, children, and Angeline’s inheritance when her old man snuffed it. But that was all taken away when she left him.

He took another sip of the amber fluid, feeling it hit the spot, right at the back of his throat, warming him to the very core. He drank a lot of whisky these days after what Angeline had done to him. He needed warming up the way she’d turned cold on him. Frozen him out, she had. If she hadn’t abandoned him like that, they would be married with children by now. Only she’d cheated him out of what was rightfully his, both his offspring and the money.

There had been no other women since, none of importance anyway. Most of them were interchangeable bimbos he met in pubs and clubs for a knee trembler up against the wall of some filthy alley way. Or if he felt generous and they looked fairly decent, he would book a hotel room for the night. If they were fortunate enough to share his bed, the following morning he neither cared for them nor wanted any more to do with them. It gave him a kind of kick that most of them wanted to see him again to start a relationship. He rejected the silly cows before they rejected him. Just like Angeline Hamilton had done to him. Well, someone had to pay, didn’t they? They were all bloody whores, the lot of them. Women couldn’t be trusted.

There was only one woman he trusted, the one who gave birth to him, and he hadn’t seen her for some time. No woman could compare to his mother. He thought Angeline had, but he should have known better.

He unlocked his car door and sat behind the wheel then slammed the flask down on the dashboard and stared at his trembling hands. Well, there was already blood on them and no doubt, there’d be blood on them again, sometime in the near future...

When the kissing has to stop!

2009-03-04T18:57:00.003Z

As a romantic novelist, I often write about kissing. In general, most of us like to be kissed one way or another, whether it is passionately by our partner, or a quick peck on the cheek from an old friend or relative.

However, whilst reading some of the Yahoo news headlines today, I came across two kissing stories that were horrific. The first one because of the drink and probable violence involved, and the second, because of a kiss that should have been the most harmless thing in the world from a mother to a young baby that turned out to have deadly consequences.

Here's the first story, entitled: 'Woman 'bit off boyfriend's tongue'

And the second story, the saddest of all: 'Mother's kiss 'killed newborn tot'

The first story sounds to me as if it was a premedicated action on the girlfriend's part and the second, something that in a perfect world could be avoided. A lot of people with cold sores might not realise the harm they are doing if they kiss a vulnerable person like a young child or someone with a lowered immune system. The good thing to come out of the second story is the fact that the mother now wants to campaign to get the message out not to kiss people when you have a cold sore.

I'm Back

2009-03-03T19:05:00.002Z

Okay, I apologise. I have been away from my blog for quite some time. I was ill before Christmas with stomach problems and although I am a lot better now, I am still not back to normal.

Before Christmas I had a gripping stomach discomfort accompanied by bouts of vomiting, thankfully that has now gone, but I still have some problems which I think might be to do with yeast. When I was at my worst, I couldn't touch any alcohol, my favourite tipple: a glass of white wine, was like poison to me. I believe that sometimes our bodies know what's best for us and for me it was to avoid alcohol like the plague during that time. White bread has also been causing me problems. I don't think I have Celiac disease, but maybe some sort of intolerence either to yeast or gluten found in wheat.

On a positive note, I have lost a stone in weight. So it's not all bad, and of course, I have the added benefit of not drinking alcohol. I drank a glass of wine last night and enjoyed it, but from now on, it will be only the occasional glass.

Christmas Newsletters

2008-12-22T12:06:00.009Z

My son sent me this BBC link today regarding Christmas newsletters:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/magazine/7785410.stm

It made me laugh.

The latest trend I notice is for people to no longer write on Christmas cards but instead to add a printed sticker with the greetings on and their names. Have things really gone so far that people can't be bothered to scribble a few words to take the time to think of that particular person at this time of the year?

I'm a Nano Winner!

2008-11-30T12:29:00.005Z

I'm absolutely stoked! I managed to complete the Nanowrimo Challenge this year with a day to spare. Not quite as good as some years perhaps [one year I managed 58K in three and a half weeks], but much better than 2007. Last year, I only managed a few thousand words.

I had over plotted that novel down to the last detail and knew what I was supposed to write for every chapter. Never again.

This year, I just wrote a back cover blurb and the story just flowed from there.

Whether I'll finish the entire novel and get it published is another thing. So far, I have completed two other Nano books that I haven't done anything with. So, I have to change that and press on. Finish this book [I'm still inspired] and go back at a later date to edit and revise.

Well, that's the plan.

Watch this space...

NaNoWrimo Challenge

2008-11-07T22:28:00.002Z

I've been taking part in the NaNoWrimo Challenge for the past week. I have been so busy with my Open University course and work that I forgot all about it starting on Saturday, until late that evening. Still, I haven't done too badly compared with last year. I'm up to 11,000 words.

Here's a taste of my NaNo novel [unedited of course]!

Synopsis: The Clock Strikes Twelve

"When several young women are murdered in Merthyr Tydfil, South Wales, over a period of several short weeks, the hunt is on to find the serial killer known as 'Prince Charming', so called because his m.o. is to steal one shoe from each woman as a trophy following the kill.

All the women have something in common: they are young, attractive and out for the evening in the pubs and clubs of Merthyr.

D.C. Vince Conway and his partner, W.P.C. Helen Carter, have just forty eight hours to catch the evil stalker before he makes his next move.

Clues are left to taunt the pair, demanding to be deciphered before the ticking clock strikes twelve."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Excerpt: The Clock Strikes Twelve

It was getting colder. The wind was arctic like. Dawn stamped her feet to keep warm and blew on her gloveless hands.

“Somehow ironic, isn’t it?” Vince said, breaking into her thoughts.

“What is?”

“Us freezing our knackers off out here at the back of the Iceland store!”

No matter how she was feeling, Vince always brought a smile to her face. He had been her partner at the station for the past ten years and one of the only people she trusted with her life. Literally. “Enough of the jokes. What do you make of it all, Vince? Could it be him? Prince Charming?”

Vince chewed on his bottom lip. “Possibly, but it doesn’t explain why he went quiet for the past thirty odd years, does it?”

“Maybe he hasn’t been caught yet. There are plenty of unsolved murders up and down the country.”

Vince dug his hands deep in his trousers pockets and jangled some coins. “Or maybe he’s been inside.”

She had thought of that. “Well, if he has been inside all this time it would have to be for another murder or murders for that length of time.”

“There’s also another possibility of course, he may have been living abroad. It might be an idea if we contact Interpol to see if there are any other murderers, maybe on the continent with the same modus operandi.”

“Boss,” Vince turned to see one of the uniformed bobbies standing behind him with a scruffy looking fella in a bright yellow vest. “This is Bill Davies. He’s the one who found the body.”

Dawn looked at the man, whose skin looked as putrid as she felt. She sidled over towards him. “I’m going to need to take some info from you, Mr Davies.” The man nodded. “It can’t have been an easy morning for you.”

“You can say that again.”

She pulled out her note pad and pen. “So, what happened?”

The man briefly closed his eyes as if trying to envisage the scene in front of him and then opened them again. “We were emptying the bins at the back here at about 10.15. We didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary until I put my hand in that bin here and found it…I mean her?” He pointed to the body on the floor that was now being zipped by scenes of crime in a black body bag.

Dawn’s upper lip felt frozen to her face, she quickly ran her tongue over it, at this rate they would be getting frost bite. “And why did you happen to have your hand in the bin in the first place?”

“It was Mal, over there?” He pointed to his workmate standing in the corner. “He thought he found a dummy in the bin and wanted me to pull it out so we could have some fun with it. You know tease the guys at work, that kind of thing. All sounds a bit daft now…” His voice trailed off.

“Not all, Mr Davies,” Vince butted into the conversation. “There are plenty down the station, I can tell you,” he winked at Dawn, “who would have got the same idea.”
Bill Davies straightened himself up, as if he were proud of himself now, for finding the body, although of course it was Mal who had got the original idea to go dumpster diving in the first place.

“We’re going to need for you to come into the station at some point to make a statement about this,” Dawn said.

Mal was now standing at Bill’s side. “We can come in as soon as you like, officers.” There were obviously no flies on him. It was probably a good excuse to get an hour or so off work, not just from them now having to leave their bin duties to go to the police station, but no doubt they would get a couple of hours, or maybe the rest of the day off for the shock of finding the body in the first place. Nowadays, people were such a lily-livered lot. Not like her Dad, who had fought in the Falklands War. Death was common place to someone like him.

Dawn took Vince to one side, so that they were out of earshot. “So, what now?”

“Well, we need to establish who this female is. She looks quite young, doesn’t she? Maybe nineteen or twenty. Someone must be missing their daughter from home around here.”
Dawn nodded. “Probably. Or maybe she lives alone. We haven’t had any mispers reported over the weekend.” A Misper was well known police jargon for Missing Person. In Dawn’s experience, most of them turned up safe and well, either their actions had been entirely thoughtless and they’d forgotten to inform whoever it was that they were elsewhere, or it was more serious in the case of a depressed person who might do themselves harm. In all her years in the force, she had only come across one other case where the misper turned out to be a murder victim.

Dawn strode towards the two refuse collectors. “Right you pair, meet us at the station in half hour. Grab yourselves a cuppa with plenty of sugar, you’ve had a nasty shock.”
Dawn knew only too well what that was like as the shrouded body was loaded into an awaiting van, her mind drifted back to the moment she found out that Jen’s body had been discovered back in ‘75. She had been in school on lunch break. Some of the girls at Cyfarthfa High School, which was in actually a school inside a castle, were wondering around the grounds, heading towards the Cabin as it was called, which was a small snack shop in the park. They were going to get a beef pasty or a Mars bar, and one or two of them wanted to buy some Woodbine singles to feed their nicotine habits. Ruth Jones, the teacher’s pet, came rushing up behind the small gathering.

It was almost as though things were happening in slow motion. Dawn knew as she turned, before Ruth even uttered a word, that it was something about Jen, and not good news. Of all the people in the town, Ruth was the last person she needed to hear it from. She relished all the gossip and was a well known stirrer.

“Girls,” she bellowed, with a sadistic gleam in her eyes. “You’ll never guess what. It’s just been on the radio. Jennifer Johnson is dead.”

The gang crowded around her. So this had been Ruth Jones’s fifteen minutes of fame. For once, she was highly popular with the girls as they hung on to her every word. Who? Where? What? How? In some sad way, it would not have looked out of place if she had sold tickets for the event.

* * *Disclaimer

All characters are fictitious, the places mentioned are not. Iceland Stores accept no responsibility for a dead body being discovered in a large bin at the back of their store.

Another fab review for Watching You

2008-10-17T16:47:00.002Z

I'm thrilled by the latest review for my new novel from The Romance Studio:

Watching You

Lynette Rees
Romantic suspense
Available from The Wild Rose Press
ISBN: 1-60154-259-3
July 2008

Angeline Hamilton loses her home and everything she cares about when her father dies. She visits the new owner in a fit of temper only to be asked to live there and work as Sebastian Tremaine's personal assistant. As she tries to build a new life an old flame carrying a grudge stalks her. He's determined to make her pay for leaving him years ago.

Lynette Rees builds a tale full of great characters. Angeline is portrayed as a usually mild mannered woman with brains, passion and a temper to match her red hair. Sebastian is a strong, capable, usually kind man suffering the pain of losing his wife and child in a fluke accident that left him temporarily blind. Angeline’s kissing cousin, Will, Sebastian’s sister Marsha and housekeeper Daisy are unique personalities who add much to the story. The villain is a nasty man who kills for fun and sexual gratification, a real psychopath who lusts for blood.

The author doesn’t give Sebastian and Angeline an easy time. They’re attracted from the beginning, it just takes them a long time to admit it.. By the time they do we’re deep into the mystery of what James King will do at the ball to act on his hatred of Angeline. No matter how much security surrounds them, or what Sebastian does to try to protect her, the ex fiancé seems able to circumvent it. It almost gets comical as someone is always distracted or late or slips up or turns their head or something happens to make it easier for evil to take control.

But that’s the fun of it. She keeps us believing that he just might pull it off because he’s gotten past them so many times in so many ways. This is a darned good story.

Overall rating:
Sensuality rating: Very sensual

Reviewer: Dee Dailey
October 6, 2008

http://theromancestudio.com/reviews/reviews/watchingyourees.htm

Addicted to Facebook

2008-09-15T18:25:00.006Z

Okay, I admit it, I haven't been around much lately, nor have I got much writing done! You see, I have got addicted to facebook. Here is my page if anyone is interested:

http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=747060217

I enjoy joining the various groups Facebook has to offer and creating some of my own, such as: "I was an ABC Minor". For those of you, particularly those not resident in the UK, the ABC Minors was a Saturday morning cinema screening for young kids [for me this was in the 60s and 70s] although I believe it was running way before that. Maybe just after the second world war.

I could never see that kind of thing happening these days. Back then it was all very innocent and there were only one or two people in charge of all those marauding kids who were unaccompanied by an adult, stamping their feet and throwing things off the balcony.

It had a kind of innocence about it all.

I've decided I am going to have to wean myself off Facebook and get on with some writing. Call myself a writer...!

Five Angel Review

2008-08-31T17:00:00.001Z

Just received a nice review for Return to Winter from the Fallen Angels website. I loved writing this book.:

Return to Winter is an action-packed story with a good string of events that hooks the reader and takes them on a fast-moving ride that gets better by the minute. I got a feel for the characters. The intrigue and mystery lends great suspense to the storyline. The relationship between Steph and Dylan emit a great deal of emotion that grabbed this reader. Lynette Rees puts her whole self into each of her characters, making the read captivating. She pens sharp dialogue, a fabulous plot and some little jaunts along the way that spring forth with invigorating excitement. She tells a remarkable tale skillfully done. I liked the way she sketches the story so the reader is involved with every movement of the characters. The different characters came into play, each contributing something to the story keeping the reader spellbound until the dramatic conclusion.

Reviewer: Linda L.

Link: http://www.fallenangelreviews.com/2008/August/LindaL-ReturnToWinter.htm

Great review for Watching You

2008-07-29T16:40:00.004Z

I just got a great 4 1/2 shamrock review for my latest book, Watching You, from this website:

http://www.ck2skwipsandkritiques.com/sandra/watchingyou_sandra.html

Evil is watching you, Evil is coming for you….

Angeline Hamilton and Sebastian are thrown together after the loss of her father, along with her inheritance and her home. Through a case of mistaken identity, she ends up being employed by him.

Sebastian Tremaine, now the owner of her home, and dealing with his own emotional and physical loss, steps in as Angeline’s guardian angel. He soon realizes all is not what it seems.

Unbeknown to Angeline, evil and death follow her. Sebastian is prepared to do whatever it takes to keep Angeline alive, but can he secure her love and save her? For she is earmarked as the “NEXT” on the killer’s list.

Watching You is a heart wrenching romance filled with passion, forgiveness, intrigue and murder. Ms. Rees has penned a fantastic story about two wounded people who have to learn to deal with life’s changes and move on. I read Watching You in one sitting and really loved the main characters. Angeline has just enough naiveté to match Sebastian’s well travelled, expect the worst attitude. The levels of involvement of the supporting characters are well played. Not only do they bring brief glimpses of levity, but open up the possibility for future stories in a potential series.

These amazing characters also prove that your second chance at love might just be your first. I really enjoyed this book.

Reviewed by Sandra

Watching You

2008-07-16T14:31:00.001Z

My latest WRP novel, a romantic suspense, has just been published in e-book format. Watching You is the tale of one woman's quest for justice. Here is the blurb:

Upon the reading of her father’s will, Angeline Hamilton is devastated to discover that not only has she lost her inheritance, but she has lost Tarrington Manor -- her beloved family home. When a reckless decision results in her working for the new owner, Sebastian Tremaine, she finds herself hopelessly attracted to the very man she should resent.

But her confusion over the unexpected romance soon gives way to fear. Someone wants her dead. Soon she’s embroiled in secrets, seduction and a simmering love affair.

Stalked by evil, Angeline and Sebastian try desperately to hold onto their new found love…and their lives.

Free IQ Test

2008-06-14T10:57:00.003Z

Free-IQTest.net - What's your IQ?

I don't know how accurate or relevant this test is but I was surprised by my score. I'm a little dubious though as according to my result I would qualify for Mensa by being in the top 2-3 % of the population.

Something someone said to me years ago put me in my place: "Lynette, for an intelligent person you do some really daft things!" That just about sums me up. Others see me as intelligent and I honestly have some commonsense but you would not believe some of the silly things I do!

I'm so excited!

2008-06-06T15:40:00.003Z

I've registered with The Open University to take the Diploma in Literature and Creative Writing. I'm really looking forward to it. I'm going to take Creative Writing [level 2] to begin with then one of these courses from [level 3]:

Advanced creative writing

Shakespeare: text and performance

The nineteenth-century novel

Twentieth-century literature: texts and debates

It has made me consider whether I could go on to take a BA Honours Degree in either English Language and Literature or just Literature. Not sure yet.

So come September it will be back to school for me and I can't wait!