Tag Archives: Background to writing

October 31, 2010 · 11:13 am

The Final Chapter Syndrome

I remarked to my long suffering husband the other day that I was reluctant to write the last two chapters of the novel i’m working on at the moment. I have spent endless hours checking details, carrying out more research, proof reading and rewriting sections but I cannot bring myself to write the end.

My husband’s response was, ‘You were like that the last time’ and that got me thinking as to whether there was any pattern and whether other authors feel the same.

‘It’s like it’s your own private world and you want to prolong living in it,’ he tried to explain and anyone who read ‘Men From Mars, Women from Venus’ will understand me when I say that I wasn’t really asking for a solution, just remarking on a state of my mind.

Having said that I think he’s got a point. The first time I gave the completed version of ‘Riduna’ to friends to read it was like handing over a baby. I know that I will feel a sense of loss as well as a great sense of acheivement when it’s complete, but I suppose it’s that feeling of emptiness which will drive me on to begin the next one. Anyone else out there feel the same?

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December 31, 2009 · 12:55 pm

A Literate Childhood

A Literate Childhood

It’s a bit of a cliché to say that one of my greatest childhood influences was my English teacher Mrs Yates, but with seven years of her encouragement to appreciate the classics of Hardy, Austen and the Brontë sisters amongst others and her patience in giving critical appraisal to my attempts at poetry and prose, I found myself writing copiously from my early teens.

I also grew up in a family where hearing my father quote Shakespeare was an everyday occurrence. It may have been a disappointment to him that my sister and I were more likely to quote nonsense poems back, even if some of them were written by the literary genius of Lewis Carol in Through the Looking Glass, or even Spike Milligan.

“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things:
Of shoes–and ships–and sealing-wax–
Of cabbages–and kings–
And why the sea is boiling hot–
And whether pigs have wings.”

                On one occasion I recall when my sister and I were painting the walls of the bell tower in St Michael’s Church St Albans a shade of lilac to match the grey and purple benches, we nearly sent our tower captain up the walls himself having a nonsense poem challenge to keep ourselves amused. (I wonder what colour the walls are  now?)

 Ps When searching through personal memorabilia for a travel log book yesterday I came across a note from Mrs Yates referring to one of my poems which I had shared with her at the age of 17yrs! Thinking of her reminded me of the many amusing stories she shared with us, like the time she returned from the January sales having bought a new coat and a dress. When asked by her husband why she had bought both when she only went out looking for a coat, Mrs Yates replied,

“I thought you’d be pleased.  After all I only spent the money I saved in buying the coat in the sales on the new dress!”

A form of logic I am sure most women will understand.

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