Serpent’s teeth and the brilliance of Shakespeare

I hated reading Shakespeare as I grew up. The language seemed difficult, the concepts dry and old. I was, of course, ignorant. And a philistine. Now I know better, and am continually gobsmacked by what Shakespeare was able to contain in his works. I wonder who I was when I was younger - so sure…

Thats it, I’m done.

I can't do it anymore. I took a break, I tried again, I hated every minute.  I've spent I don't know how many dollars and hours taking writing courses over the years. I took them to learn the trade, to force the inspiration, to try to get closer to some real, for life publication.  I've…

So, about that being a writer….

from:http://writerscircle.com/2013/09/writing-perspectives-so-you-want-to-be-a-writer.html So You Want to Be a Writer By Charles Bukowski if it doesn't come bursting out of you in spite of everything, don't do it. unless it comes unasked out of your heart and your mind and your mouth and your gut, don't do it. if you have to sit for hours staring at…

Some people say these are the worst of times…

Ah, Styx.....How I loved them, still do. Was mellowing out to music today while stabbing a felted mushroom (yes, my life is odd) and this came up on iTunes Shuffle. I loved Styx in the day, though sometimes their heavy musicality, like that of the Alan Parson's Project, overwhelmed my ears like too much Beethoven's…

New Year, new days, no mistakes yet…

Well, not strictly true. It's difficult for a gal like me to get through a day without a mistake or two. I almost set fire to my hot bag today, for example. I've given mixed signals to a friend. Promised myself I wouldn't do that. But I did. Fortunately, I have other things to write…

Submission Madness

In "the Secret Life of Adrian Mole aged 13 3/4", by the hilarious Sue Townsend, Adrian's class is on a field trip when the bus driver, driven to the ends of his nerves, submits to motorway madness. All of the kids arrive home safely, but shaken, and the bus driver gets a well-deserved rest. We've all…

Grumpy grumpy grumpy ghosts, or muses in disguise?

As the start date for my Humber course creeps closer, I can feel my old ghosts moving in, settling down, taking up their knitting, kicking off their shoes. Making themselves comfortable. Which ghosts? The ones who say: "You never finish anything." "You're a jack of all trades, a master of none." "There's nothing worse than…

“Read it and weep. I always do.”

Ah, Romancing the Stone, one of my all time favourite cheesy romantic movies, both for the Danny DeVito chase scene, and for the author's retort to her friend, who accuses her of being a hopeless romantic. "No," she says, "not hopeless. A hopeful romantic." Yep, I know how that goes. That whole hopeful romantic thing.…

Sometimes you feel like a star, sometimes you don’t…

So, very cleverly, I thought, I announced to the world on FaceBook that I'd been accepted to the Humber School and would be studying under the luminescent Donna Morrissey. Clever, I thought, because of accountability. See, if everyone knows I'm writing, I'll have to bloody do it, won't I? Not so cleverly because I'd recently decided…

Hooking my way through the year…

I've recently started rug-hooking. It's the thing these days, post crewel embroidery... I sit in my living room, decorated by the crewel panels my mother did, copying her activity, only I pull little loops through the linen with a tiny hook instead of passing a needle through. It's part of my fibre education - sewing,…