By the time dawn came around, my self-belief had taken a nose dive and I was considering giving up writing and doing something less stressful, like bungee jumping. But, writing is a leap into the unknown. You need to constantly keep challenging yourself, bumbling along in the inside lane is not going to get you anywhere. “Do one thing every day that scares you." Eleanor Roosevelt. Test your mettle on a daily basis, you will never know whether how good you are until you take that leap of faith.
Ruby Wax is an inspiration to women of my generation, no wait... judging by the wide-ranging ages of both men and women in the audience last night, she is an inspiration to us all. She is innately funny, down to earth and compassionate, in fact, she is a role model on how to be human. I am enlighted, Ruby, thank you.
An Honest Review is about a writers group somewhere in the Home Counties. I must stress that this is a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual persons is purely coincidental. Over the next few weeks, I am planning to introduce you to the members of the Didsbrook Writers Group, in the hope that you might grow to love them as much as I do.
How I wish I'd had a chat with my svelte younger self about eating healthily and told them to keep an eye on things. All too soon, your pert breasts and your taut butt take off on their journey south without you realising.
A short extract from the penultimate edit of Defining Moments a bittersweet coming of (middle) age story about Baby Boomer, Lisa Grant, who struggles to sustain a long-term relationship because of the fallout from her dysfunctional childhood. Let me introduce you to her father...
Memories of scooping up deceased rodents in the past are ingrained in my olfactory memory banks. Still in my pyjamas, I retch my way to the field, the final resting place of the victims of my killer cat(s).
He averted her gaze, sucking air in through his teeth. One of his many irritating habits and something he always did when he knew he was in the wrong. He sighed deeply before turning to look at her again, a weak smile rippling across his face as his eyelashes fluttered.
My Writers Group are convinced I am suffering from some sort of Mother Complex. Maybe I am but one does tend to write about the things they are familiar with.
After Lisa turned thirteen, Elizabeth Galsworthy-Grant turned into a one-woman precursor to Tinder. She became obsessed with finding her daughter a husband, preferably a wealthy one, so she would never have to contemplate that nasty three-letter word job. She could never understand why her efforts were always so unappreciated by her rebellious daughter, with her feminist views and ridiculous mantra...'I don't need a man to complete me.'