A pause, and then…

All has been quiet on the blogging front for me. I wish I could say that I have dedicated this time to some serious writing. On the contrary, I have done very little writing at all. Have trotted out an entry for a Flash fiction contest, which is new territory for me, so am interested to see how that fares. 

My overriding problem right now is that I have a burgeoning story that I have no inclination to complete. The very same one that I started out, directionless, and plotless to be precise. Conditions have not improved since.

I am still clueless as to where this meandering tale is headed, and whether I even intend to see it to its destination.

I try not to do things by half measures, and am a terrible perfectionist when it comes to completing tasks. Equally though, I am a terrible procrastinator when the said tasks are not to my liking. 

So, would it be so bad to abandon this story at the midway point? At the rate I am going, I am not likely to make the deadline anyway. Then, why the guilt?

As for those of you who are wondering why there seem to be more thoughts and musings than stories of late, I will be posting a story soon.

Watch this space. 



Sugar, Spice and all things hormonal

I have a daughter, teetering on the edge of teenage hood. It is an interesting transition. Yesterday, quite out of character (or perhaps, very “in character” for the age), she declared that she hated everyone, wanted to run away, and couldn’t understand why she felt that way.

Luckily for me, I wasn’t the ‘bad guy’ for a change. Poor Daddy and younger sister were the culprits. So, of course, needing someone in her corner, she came to me. I am so glad she did. Distant as the memories of my own traumatic (!!) evolution to the teens were, I could sympathise.

I recall my mother asking vainly, “What happened to my sweet girl?” Well, she was effectively replaced by a monster for the next few years.

To my own daughter, I gently explained, “Sweetheart, these are your hormones playing up. You are going to feel this way a lot. When you do, rather than throw things, or slam stuff, go into your room. Breathe deeply, listen to music, text your friends (also similarly alienated), and just ride it out.”

To my totally astonished husband I said, “Darling, it may soon be your turn to be the good cop. So, let her take her time, apologise for shouting at her, and take heed. This is not a five year old. This is an angst-ridden almost teen.”

As for me, I hugged my nine year old close, and vowed to enjoy her pre teen innocence and simplicity. Another few years, and no doubt, a new drama will begin.

The joys of Procrastination (and the side effects)

I have no one to blame but myself. You do not start a story with no clear plot in mind. This is what I have done…again. Previously, it has somehow worked. This time, not so much. My story has stuttered to a halt. And rather than do what all writers must do, which is, show up, shut up and write, I am procrastinating.

Suddenly that circuits class at the gym…the one that’s going to kill you…looks very attractive. Oh, and cleaning! The pleasure I am deriving from that. Not to mention, the laundry, the dusting, the cooking, the unloading of the dishwasher…. Heck, I’ll even slap on some gloves and give the toilet a thorough cleaning. Anything but what I must do. Which is write.

I could argue that I am writing….doesn’t this blog count towards something?

Yeah, I know.

Back to the dusting then.

A change is as good as a rest

I am back after a brief hiatus. It was the necessary amount of time it took me to reassess, recuperate and rebound (somewhat) from the sad sad time in our lives. The sun is shining and in some small way, so is my outlook. I cannot thank my friends, and my lovely readers/followers for believing in me and allowing me the luxury of wallowing in my sorrow for a bit.

Onwards and upwards hereon.