I decided to start this blog to journal my experience of having my first novel published. I hope to encourage other debut writers and receive advice from those who know the process. Reaching this point has been both exciting and hard work. I’ve discovered there is no blue print though I’ve masses of books and have attended many courses in an effort to find one.

In addition to developing the stamina to write, research and keep going, I’ve made friends with a variety of people I wouldn’t otherwise have met. That may well be the best bit.

As if by magic

  As if by magic      I’m led blindfold into the Dilworth’s front room My knees tremble, tummy turns. I’m eight years old.   My knees tremble, tummy churns. Other kids giggle. I pick out Andrew’s.   He let me hold a baby chick in my palm Its warm heart...

Woodland solace

COVID infections reach record high. 117,093 new cases in 24 hours. Merseyside cop took selfies at murder scene. PM blamed for test shambles. British socialite found guilty of recruiting and trafficking young girls to be sexually abused by Jeffrey Epstein. Gender pay...

Trauma of war

    The final withdrawal of American troops from Afghanistan in August 2021, resulted in many Afghans becoming refugees. They were afraid of what the rule of the Taliban might mean for them. Though they loved their country, perhaps because they did, they...

How did you get here?

Wearing my plastic clogs, I walk down our concrete path, unlock the summer house door with the brass-buckle key ring, and sit on the new camping chair. The morning's sun dazzles and I to position my head so the sun's hidden behind the door's wooden  lock panels. The...

Still here!

A year ago, I was optimistic that the Pandemic might soon end. With the arrival of summer, I hoped the prevalence of the virus might diminish and I would no longer need to wear a mask and gel my hands. I anticipated meeting family and friends, locally and further...

The Beggar’s Opera, 1963

  Beggar’s Opera,  1963       It being November, I wore my tartan mini, knee high boots, white polo neck.   Me, being me, I took my part to heart, even in rehearsal.   I wrapped my baby in a woollen shawl, flung her like I kicked off   my shoes,...


The material on this website is copyright to the credited writer/poet or me. Please ask my permission to use my poems or short stories. I am happy for you to quote from the blog posts but please credit me and provide a link to this site.

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