Well, I’ve been writing this afternoon. Or, to be more precise, re-reading ‘Clive and Min’ and trying to sort out a few plot cul-de-sacs I’ve created and need to negotiate myself out of using a series of cunning 15 point turns. I’ve only myself to blame for this narrative turmoil. I go running full tilt at a chapter and think, ‘Oooh, hello! That’s a good idea to introduce,’ then get totally carried away with the whole excitement and joy of writing, and then I put the writing to one side because I am distracted by sewing, gardening or a jolly good book. And then, when I pick it up again, I find I’ve got myself into a proper pickle. A bit like leaving off knitting a complex cardie halfway through and then stuffing it into a bag for a few months without marking if I was half way up left side, right side, sleeve, back or that fiddly bit on the neck.
A lot of unravelling ensues...
...and so, where I thought I had two possibilities for Cecelia’s parentage - the real one and the red herring one - I find that I have, inadvertently and in fact, got three!
I’ll not deny it - I was wild with excitement at the discovery of this third option because even I hadn’t thought of it! It just sort of morphed and appeared in that delicious way that sometimes happens when you are a writer who goes with the flow of the journey (like I do) rather than a writer who plans character, plot and narrative with meticulous precision (like the ones who get publishing deals.)
It has cheered me up no end! Brace yourselves....!
This also cheers me up...
I bought these geraniums from a supermarket a few weeks ago when they were little more than a green stick, a couple of leaves and the hint of a budling. £1.50 each, they were - and they have gone mad! Spreading themselves along the kitchen window, they are, like a glorious firework explosion of stunning red that the photo does not do justice. They are especially cheering on dull, drippy days like this. I love their scent, too. Reminds me of the greenhouse I used to hide in as a child to avoid having my hair cut by the mobile hairdresser. I was desperate to have long hair. My mother was desperate to keep it short á la pudding basin style. I think my absconding habits must have paid off eventually because by the time I left primary school I had a pony tail!
I shall be taking cuttings from the geraniums. They’ll look fabulous outside in the courtyard next year.
A lot of unravelling ensues...
...and so, where I thought I had two possibilities for Cecelia’s parentage - the real one and the red herring one - I find that I have, inadvertently and in fact, got three!
I’ll not deny it - I was wild with excitement at the discovery of this third option because even I hadn’t thought of it! It just sort of morphed and appeared in that delicious way that sometimes happens when you are a writer who goes with the flow of the journey (like I do) rather than a writer who plans character, plot and narrative with meticulous precision (like the ones who get publishing deals.)
It has cheered me up no end! Brace yourselves....!
This also cheers me up...
I bought these geraniums from a supermarket a few weeks ago when they were little more than a green stick, a couple of leaves and the hint of a budling. £1.50 each, they were - and they have gone mad! Spreading themselves along the kitchen window, they are, like a glorious firework explosion of stunning red that the photo does not do justice. They are especially cheering on dull, drippy days like this. I love their scent, too. Reminds me of the greenhouse I used to hide in as a child to avoid having my hair cut by the mobile hairdresser. I was desperate to have long hair. My mother was desperate to keep it short á la pudding basin style. I think my absconding habits must have paid off eventually because by the time I left primary school I had a pony tail!
I shall be taking cuttings from the geraniums. They’ll look fabulous outside in the courtyard next year.
Comments
I had a pudding basin hairstyle too as being motherless there was no-one to sort my very flyaway hair out each morning so my Dad sent me off each term to have the chop. I'm sort of surprised, and grateful, that he didn't just take me to the barbers when he went as it was much cheaper and we had very little money.
And it sounds like you should be writing a novel, too, being a wordsmith. Or have you already written a novel?? I would be interested to know about your own creative writing. Shudders at the idea of the barbers, too. But it did make me wonder why women have to pay more for a hair do than men. Why is that? Do we have more challenging hair, or are we paying extra for the fripperies? I’m off to the hairdresser in a couple of weeks. It’s will have been 6 months since my last visit. I wonder if I can pare down my visits from every 6 weeks to every 12, and save myself some money?
As for the different cost for men v women - it goes across the board. I have bought "men's" roll on deodorant for years as it is cheaper (you can get non-scented) as well as T-shirts and thermal vests (they're longer too so no draughts round the kidney area). Right, off to do battle with the glue again!