Over the past year or so I have been selecting photographs I’ve taken on many travels, and put a story to them.
When I reached a milestone of 50, I decided to make them into a book, and, in doing so, I have gone through each and revised them, making some longer, and almost a short story.
50 photographs, 50 stories. I’ve called it, “Inspiration, Maybe”
It will be available soon.
This case has everything, red herrings, jealous brothers, femme fatales, and at the heart of it all, greed.
Coming soon!
Is love the metaphorical equivalent to ‘walking the plank’; a dive into uncharted waters?
For Henry the only romance he was interested in was a life at sea, and when away from it, he strived to find sanctuary from his family and perhaps life itself. It takes him to a small village by the sea, s place he never expected to find another just like him, Michelle, whom he soon discovers is as mysterious as she is beautiful.
Henry had long since given up the notion of finding romance, and Michelle couldn’t get involved for reasons she could never explain, but in the end both acknowledge that something happened the moment they first met.
Plans were made, plans were revised, and hopes were shattered.
A chance encounter causes Michelle’s past to catch up with her, and whatever hope she had of having a normal life with Henry, or anyone else, is gone. To keep him alive she has to destroy her blossoming relationship, an act that breaks her heart and shatters his.
But can love conquer all?
It takes a few words of encouragement from an unlikely source to send Henry and his friend Radly on an odyssey into the darkest corners of the red light district in a race against time to find and rescue the woman he finally realizes is the love of his life.
The cover, at the moment, looks like this:
Which, of course, means on this side of the world, that Spring is coming.
Perhaps not quite the news the hayfever sufferers want to hear, but it does mean everything in the garden will start to grow again, and, worst luck, also the weeds.
But, it is the end of the month, and it has been a reasonably good one.
Firstly,
My private detective, Harry Walthenson, has finally concluded his first case, and the final episode will be posted this week.
Then, he will be on a new case, yes, there’s no spare time for holidays and such, and, no, it will not be the search for a missing cat!
The latest episode is here: http://bit.ly/2Zqrk23
Secondly,
My serialised stories are progressing, and I’m striving to upload a new episode for each at least once a week.
The other thing that I’ve been working on, basically in those five minutes or so from when my head hits the pillow, till the moment I’m asleep, titles for each of the stories.
For the first, currently labelled with ‘I’ve always wanted to go on a treasure hunt’, I’ve been toying with the word ‘map’ and something witty, like ‘A Map to Trouble’, but it’s not exactly attention-getting. It needs more thought.
The latest episode is here: http://bit.ly/2YWuev1
For the second, currently labelled with ‘What happens after an action-packed start’, it starts in the desert, and will end in a dusty, desolate village in Africa, I’d like to have the word ‘Redemption’ in it.
The latest episode is here: http://bit.ly/2Ni2ABS
The others need more thought, as yet, and I know a title will pop out at me as I get further along with the story.
these stories are here: http://bit.ly/2TTlKzl and here: http://bit.ly/2HtEa4K
Thirdly,
There’s two new episodic stories coming, another one set during World War 2, involving a rescue, and one dealing with the investigation of a crime with a suspect that has all three criteria to be the number one suspect, and might be called, ‘Motive, Means, and Opportunity’.
Also the ‘Being Inspired, Maybe’ stories are continuing, the latest story, Number 65, published, and the next will be available in a day or so. The stories are the fun part of my week, as they usually get written while I’m waiting to collect my youngest granddaughter from school.
As for the novels, one is at the editor, and one is in mid-re-write.
If only there were more hours in a day!!!
There is this thing called writer’s block.
There are days when I think I have it but the more I have thought about it while staring at that blank page, it occurs to me it is more likely I cannot put words to my thoughts.
In fact, I have been staring at this page for nearly half an hour.
There are no fewer thoughts of what I might write about going through my head at this time or any other time.
It’s a matter of what words I want to put on the page.
Those thoughts are spread evenly between three different stories I’m working on, this particular blog piece, and two other stories I should be editing.
And thrown into the mix ideas for more stories, fuelled by something I just heard, or read.
Perhaps I should put these aside temporarily and take a more simplistic view.
Try doing one story at a time, get it finished, and then move onto the next.
Right!
The trouble is I have a problem concentrating on one thing at a time. It flows through to everything else which is what the house looks like a patchwork quilt, and the garden like it belongs to a manor house that had not been tended properly for years.
Should I call that house block or garden block, or am I just a chip off the old block?
There’s always something else to do that seems, at the time, to be more important.
So it’s a matter of priorities, not whether or not I have writer’s block.
Not yet, anyway.
Now, it’s time to get back to the blank piece of paper…
Ececopt the phone is ringing. Another scammer trying to part me from what little money I don’t have.
Over the past year or so I have been selecting photographs I’ve taken on many travels, and put a story to them.
When I reached a milestone of 50, I decided to make them into a book, and, in doing so, I have gone through each and revised them, making some longer, and almost a short story.
50 photographs, 50 stories. I’ve called it, “Inspiration, Maybe”
It will be available soon.
This case has everything, red herrings, jealous brothers, femme fatales, and at the heart of it all, greed.
Coming soon!
Is love the metaphorical equivalent to ‘walking the plank’; a dive into uncharted waters?
For Henry the only romance he was interested in was a life at sea, and when away from it, he strived to find sanctuary from his family and perhaps life itself. It takes him to a small village by the sea, s place he never expected to find another just like him, Michelle, whom he soon discovers is as mysterious as she is beautiful.
Henry had long since given up the notion of finding romance, and Michelle couldn’t get involved for reasons she could never explain, but in the end both acknowledge that something happened the moment they first met.
Plans were made, plans were revised, and hopes were shattered.
A chance encounter causes Michelle’s past to catch up with her, and whatever hope she had of having a normal life with Henry, or anyone else, is gone. To keep him alive she has to destroy her blossoming relationship, an act that breaks her heart and shatters his.
But can love conquer all?
It takes a few words of encouragement from an unlikely source to send Henry and his friend Radly on an odyssey into the darkest corners of the red light district in a race against time to find and rescue the woman he finally realizes is the love of his life.
The cover, at the moment, looks like this:
I’ve often said, that can wait until tomorrow. I mean, I don’t have the time at the moment, or more to the point, quite often I can’t be bothered.
So, how many things have I put on hold, and then forgotten about, deliberately or otherwise? I suspect quite a few.
What is it that makes us put off something until another time, using tomorrow as an excuse?
Perhaps the point is, tomorrow never comes, does it? By the time it’s tomorrow, it’s today again, and that onerous job can be put off yet again, until tomorrow. So, does the fact tomorrow never comes, really mean it;’s something we don’t want to do?
I keep putting off the rest of the editing of my latest novel until tomorrow.
Does that mean I just don’t want to do it, because as we all know, editing is an onerous job we tend to put off until we have to do it, usually when the editor is turning a bright shade of purple?
Or does it mean that we don’t think the book is very good, and this is our way of expressing our feelings about it without condemning it outright?
I don’t think I’m happy with it in its current form. But, as quite a few say, it’s better to get the words on paper, and you can always fix them later.
Tomorrow perhaps?
Perhaps it’s time to go back and have another look, screw my courage to the sticking place, and do what needs to be done.
And do it now, because if I say I’ll do it tomorrow…
Now I’m starting to feel like I’m on a merry-go-round.
Repeat after me, do it now, do it now, do it now, do it now……..
It was as if Microsoft Word was sent down from that place in the universe where a group of torturers sit around a table to find new ways of making our lives just that little bit more difficult.
I mean, most of the time it works really well and behaves itself.
But…
Then there are the times, usually when you are stressed about a deadline, or you are nearly at the end of what you believe to be the most brilliant writing you have ever put on paper.
Then…
Disaster strikes.
It could be the power goes off, even for just a few seconds, but it’s enough to kill the computer. It could be that you have reached the end and closed Word down, thinking that it had autosaved, all the while ignoring that little pop up that says, ‘do you want to save your work’?
It’s been a long day, night, or session. You’re tired and your mind is elsewhere, as it always is at the end.
You always assume that autosave is on. It was the last time, it has been since the day you installed it however long ago that was.
So…
When the power comes back on, you start the computer, go into Word, and it brings back all the windows you had open when the power failed, and the one with the brilliant piece you just wrote, it’s just a blank sheet.
Or up to where it last autosaved, which is nowhere near the end.
Or it didn’t save at all.
You forget the software updated recently and that always brings changes. Usually unwanted changes.
By which time you have that sinking feeling that all is lost, deadline missed, brilliant work lost, it’s the end of the world.
You promise yourself you’re going to get Scrivener, or something else, where this doesn’t happen.
Or if you’re like me, you put the cat on the keyboard and tell him to sort the mess out.
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 