Christmas has always made me think of the beach and palm trees. Even as a child I used to fantasise about escaping to a deserted beach.
It does bother me that I spend everyday writing, but never allow myself time to sit and read a book these days. But, I have decided to stop beating myself up about it because I do read. I read a lot, but not always in the good old-fashioned way. These days, thanks to the Internet, it is so easy to tap into a plethora of resources for literature, art and just about everything else... 24/7. So I quench my constant thirst for knowledge browsing the Net.
I have a tendency to run away from arguments, especially when emotionally involved. Does that make me a weak person?
When I closed my eyes, there was chaos. A whirlpool of my life flashing like a technicoloured LED advertising board, down to what was on my shopping list and what I was going to cook for supper.
Jersey is no longer a literary wasteland, the Festival of Words is in its fourth year and is inspiring the lives of many. Richard Skinner, was part of the packed programme this year and he is exactly as the author, Renée Knight, so succinctly describes him… 'An enlightened and liberating teacher.'
Three years ago, I started with an idea that had been in my head for twenty-five years. No plan, no plot, just an idea and I gave myself free rein to let the story unfold in any direction. As I was seeing life from a more mature perspective, the idea took another turn when I became all consumed with my main character’s backstory.
Whatever genre you wrap up your story up in, however many weeks, months and years it has taken you to reach The End, the next step is to get people to read it.
Forty-years worth of the life and times of the emotionally fragile Lisa Grant, ex-columnist for Metropolitan magazine with a quest to dig herself out of her self-dug rut... encapsulated in 88,000 words.