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Running away from the cuts

I never used to run. Hated it, in fact. I could go on but that vile little word sums it up. In a previous life (before children) I was a gym bunny, exercising inside with a calorie counter and air conditioning. Roll on five years and I’m almost evangelical about running, but this transition was… Continue reading Running away from the cuts

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Reflections

I had a great piece to write week. I was asked to guest blog for the Winchester Writer’s Festival, reliving my journey from aspiring writer to represented author. Slightly longer than my normal 300-word limit, it let me go all out and appreciate how far I had come, how I have changed and who I… Continue reading Reflections

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When discipline writes itself off…

I am normally very self-disciplined. You kind of have to be if you work by yourself in your own house. It’s very tempting to sit in your underwear all day, surfing the internet and eating Wotsits. But you can’t do that. No, no, no. Because A) you will get Wotsits all over your keyboard and… Continue reading When discipline writes itself off…

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Coffee, corridors and beautiful places

Some writers favour cafes, some pubs. Perhaps I'm on on the weirder side of the spectrum, becasue I like to go to hospitals. I can’t write narratives as it’s too noisy for that, but I can write plot notes, character ideas, scene settings. I grew up around hospitals. One of my fondest memories is watching my… Continue reading Coffee, corridors and beautiful places

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Sitting on my hands, biting the inside of my cheek…

I am floating in wonderful in-between land. My first novel is going through the editing mill with my agent and my second is composting in the far-flung corners of my mind. It’s an odd place to be in the writing spectrum. But, a pretty wonderful place at the same time. Daydream, reading, jotting little notes… Continue reading Sitting on my hands, biting the inside of my cheek…

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Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, type those troubles away…

Writing has been something of a saviour lately, during a time that has been both emotionally and actually exhausting (I have given up on my children ever sleeping beyond 5.30AM). I often find it difficult to write when I’m tired, or when there are so many things to juggle in life that my head is… Continue reading Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, type those troubles away…

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Melancholy September

It’s September, ALREADY. I can feel the summer leaching away through the gaps in the grass on our lawn. My skin tone is starting to fade  to its natural pallid state. School (gulp) starts again on Monday. And perhaps that is the biggest wrench. “Hooray!” One half of me cries, “I get my writing time… Continue reading Melancholy September

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Ill equipped for nonchalance…

This is my sixth attempt at writing this post, because the previous five have been a tad over the top. I’m so used to battling through bouts of self-doubt that, when I have the opportunity to celebrate and show enthusiasm, I can go a little overboard. I am a very excitable person (from the woman… Continue reading Ill equipped for nonchalance…

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2nd novels, hide and seek and unexpected inspiration…

This week I discovered the best hiding place for hide and seek; tucked up and contorted on the window sill, hidden behind the curtains in my children’s bedroom. It took them ages to find me. AGES. And, whilst holding my breath and keeping as still as possible so as not to give the game away (I'm… Continue reading 2nd novels, hide and seek and unexpected inspiration…

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No! Not that, anything but that…

I have a somewhat rare flaw as a writer, and that is my lack of exposition. WHAT? I hear you gasp, your jaws collectively thudding to the floor. Surely you can’t have too little exposition? Apparently, you can. I have long been wary of exposition. I’ve heard the warnings from agents about avoiding an exposition… Continue reading No! Not that, anything but that…