Monday, 20 December 2021

Winter Solstice


 Winter Solstice, or Yule as it’s also known, is one of the oldest winter celebrations and has been celebrated for thousands of years, all around the world, in a wide variety of traditions and rituals.

The Norsemen saw the sun as a wheel that changed the seasons, and in mid-winter they would light bonfires, tell stories and drink sweet ale. Now, the wheel represents the year of sabbats for wiccans, and Yule is deeply rooted in that cycle.

Throughout history, bonfires have been an integral part of the Winter Solstice celebrations as many believed bonfires would work at protecting by keeping dark spirits away. Others thought that firelight would guide the sun back to the sky.

In many traditions, Yule kicks of the wiccan new year. It falls on the shortest day, and during Winter Solstice, darkness reaches its peak, giving the longest night. It usually occurs on the 21st of December, but it varies depending on location, and on the daily rotation of the Earth. This year it falls on the 21st at, I think, about 3.58pm in the UK. It’s the sabbat where the Goddess gives birth to the Sun King and this fire festival is strongly linked with fertility and the continuation of life. It’s the time to reflect on the past year, and to think about what you hope for the next. It’s a fresh start. A chance to begin again. Cleansing your home will dust away the negativity of the previous year.

Oaks have been seen as sacred and the mistletoe is a symbol of life. Yule logs were set alight at one end, and it was believed by the Norse that each spark represented a piglet or calf to be born during the next year. Fire festivals, celebrating the rebirth of the Sun, held on the Winter's Solstice can be found throughout the ancient world. In fact, many pagan customs are still followed today, and are used in the Christian celebrations of Christmas.

 

Sunday, 19 December 2021

End of Year

 New Year... Same old me...

We're advancing toward the end of another year, and I always like the start of the next. 

I have no plans to make any illogical resolutions to change myself, because I don't think I've ever kept one, but, maybe I'll resolve to read more books. That seems attainable. 

As far as life changes go, though, I feel like I'm on a pretty good track. I could eat healthier, I could exercise more, but that's true of every month of the year. 

What I do like about the New Year though, is that it's like a reset. A refresh. 

All the things that I've been working on, that I might be wobbling on, that might not be going as well as I want them to... It's not a resolution to continue trying, but it's a new start in a way. Rejuvenation. 

I like the refresh of January first. I like the new year. 

Sunday, 25 July 2021

This Book Won't End

 

I feel like I've been working on my current WIP forever. 

My shifter romance, the first book of the Acalia series, and the characters don't want to wrap things up. I reached 60,000 words and didn't feel very far along, and now even even further into it and the word count keeps growing. 

How do you make your characters sort things out when they just want to keep gong on? If anyone learns, could you tell me, because if not, Protecting Their Heart may never end. 

I think what could help would be if I could go somewhere with no internet and no people, and just a typewriter. Unfortunately, in real life, I have a day job, I have responsibilities and I have to work around those things. 

Trying to find time to write is hard enough, but when its for a book that won't reach it's end, sometimes it feels futile. 

This book has to end though, even if it's so I can find out what will happen to my characters myself. I need my characters to reach their resolution. 

Thursday, 3 June 2021

Rebellious Characters

 

I’m not a pantser, and by that, I mean that I love a good book outline. I like planning who my characters are and where my story is going to go. I like the structure of following a plan.

But with characters like these, I may as well not bloody bother. They don’t behave. They just go off doing what they want. It doesn’t matter to them if it makes the book longer and longer. So, I ask you, why do we bother with outlines when characters have their own ideas?

On one hand, I suppose it’s a good thing. It means they’re very real to us, but on the other hand; what about all my story ideas that I wanted to write?

Either way, I love my mischievous, mind-of-their-own, rebellious characters.

Thursday, 20 May 2021

Long Stories

 

Why do my stories never end?

I'm writing a book, that was initially title Short Shifter. I feel like I've barely started it and it's already at 60,000 words. That's not short! What the heck, story. You're supposed to be short!

But these characters keep throwing up obstacles, and generally being pains in the butt, with all their chatter and their reluctance to get the story going.

That's the problem with characters sometimes. Just because I have a plan for them, and an outline to follow, it doesn't mean, they agree, and it doesn't mean they'll co-operate.

So, for now, I just keep writing, hoping the end is growing closer with every world, but it probably isn't.

 


Thursday, 11 March 2021

Writing. Not Marketing.

 


Last year I did a lot of work on my website, my blog and my social media. I regret that now.

I spent many many hours writing blogs, planning posts and generally trying to interact with other people. The impact that had on book sales was zero.

I’m a writer, and somewhere along the way, that shifted, and I felt like I was working more in marketing. The repercussions of that were that I wrote less, I published less. I missed out on doing what I love doing, and that is just writing stories. It was my own fault. I thought it was important to being a writer.

Don’t get me wrong. I like social media for engaging with others, but last year, I think I looked at it wrong. I concentrated on it too much, to the detriment of my writing, and that meant that word counts and completed works took a hit.

I’m doing it differently this year. This year I’ve decided to concentrate on writing more. Not because I think marketing isn’t important, but at the end of the day, you can’t market what you haven’t written, and I write because I love it. Because I want to share my stories with others, even if that story is only shared with a few people.

I appreciate each and every person who takes a chance on me by buying my books, and downloading my stories, and so this year, I want to get more of them out there.

I still want to engage, I still want to talk to others, but I want to do it so that I can share with you. I want social media to be fun.

This is my year of writing. Not my year of marketing. I am a writer after all.

 

Thursday, 31 December 2020

Martha's Bonfire Night

 


Was it a good date? No.

But, had Martha learned something from it?

She took a big bite of her burger and sighed with her mouth full. She’d learned that dating was pointless and women who did it were stupid. That counted as a life lesson, right?

Or maybe women weren’t stupid, and it was only Martha who had such bad luck with guys. It couldn’t be normal to find this many weirdo men in such quick succession. From the one who spent the night on his phone, refusing to make eye contact and barely uttering a word, to the one who massively insulted her in French thinking she wouldn’t understand him.

It said a lot about the whole mate-search that the best date she’d been on was the one where she was stood up. That would have certainly been preferable to what she’d just experienced with the man she’d fled not two minutes ago. He was the worst of them because he was the first to make her feel bad about herself. Even the one who’d called her a ho in French, hadn’t been personal, but Jeff… His comments had stung in their thoughtlessness.

Well, screw him! At least she got a burger out of it. She’d paid for it herself and it was damn good.

It placated her temper as she made the five-minute walk from the restaurant to Garrett Park.

 Maybe she was still cursed. What if they’d misunderstood the goddess’s decree that their coven was forgiven for the atrocities committed by past members?

Martha’s coven sisters had done their best to make amends, but how could you make amends for the acts of others? How did you repent for the sins of the unforgiveable? A curse would certainly explain the string of bad dates she’d been on.

Except… the coven couldn’t be cursed. Her sister River had found her mate in Alex, a handsome, tall, toned man who saw only perfection in his mate.

Could be her sisters were forgiven but Martha wasn’t. She hadn’t done anything bad, though, to warrant being singled out with and ancient curse. Hell, she was one of the better-behaved of her immortal sisters.

There was no explanation for the men she’d had no more than a single date with. If even that.

The burger was gone long before she reached the park, but that was okay. The angry stomp of her brown boots hitting the sidewalk was soothing.

The lap she did around the muddy park, seeking out her sisters and Alex not so much, although, it did give her a chance to see what stalls were set up.

She was just about to get her cell phone out to call River and find out where they were when the fiery red of April’s hair caught her attention from the corner of her eye.

Her coven, her family, were standing by a food truck that sold soup and they were gathered together, paper cups held in their gloved and mittened hands. Or at least some of her coven were.

Bethany, April, River and River’s mate Alex. He was an honorary member. Always there to support River but with no magical abilities. He’d become one of them quicker than Martha had expected, and now he was the big brother they’d never known they wanted. Even her older sisters, those whose ages were in the hundreds were treated like annoying little sisters by Alex.

Martha crossed the park to join her family. Bethany was the first to notice her approach, and a smile spread over her heart-shaped face. Her dark hair was tucked under a grey woolly hat with a blue bobble on top. Her eyes shone behind the smudged lenses of her square glasses and she was dressed in jeans and a dark grey puffy jacket. Her Converse trainers were marked with mud and as always, a heavy camera hung on a long strap, slung over her shoulder.

“Martha!” she exclaimed, and the others turned in surprise.

“I thought you couldn’t make it,” River said.

April winced and then asked, “How was the date?”

Four pairs of attentive eyes locked on her, and she glared at her red-headed sister. “It was great,” and yes, that was sarcasm dripping from her voice. “It lasted eight whole minutes. We get married next week.”

With a roll of her eyes, April ignored Martha’s attitude. She was used to it. They were roommates after all.

“What happened?”

“You didn’t get stood up again, did you?” River asked.

“No.” Unfortunately. “I arrived and he was waiting outside. He eyed me up and down, frowned and it got worse from there.” She was definitely deleting her dating app. “The next five minutes were spent telling me that he didn’t usually date chunky girls, and how attractive I’d be if I lost twenty pounds.”

“Jerk!” River exclaimed.

April’s fiery temper kicked in and she ground her teeth together, parting them only long enough to grind out, “Bastard.”

“You’re beautiful, Martha,” Bethany rushed to tell her. “Don’t listen to him.”

“I won’t.” But his words had wormed into her self-confidence and made her wonder if he was right. She tried to not let it impact her, but it was hurtful to hear. She wasn’t the skinniest girl in the world, but she’d always been content with what she considered to be an ordinary shaped body.

“Did you leave then?” Alex asked.

She should have, but she hadn’t wanted to be rude. “Not quite. I stuck around for another five minutes, but all he did was give me advice on nutrition and fitness, and when I ordered a burger, he told the waiter to bring me a grilled chicken salad.”

“He actually changed your order?” April asked. “While you sat there?”

River would have reacted, but she was too busy standing there with her mouth hanging open. It took Alex lifting her chin up, to have her snapping her jaw shut.

“He tried, but I didn’t let him. I said I wanted a burger, but when they brought it, he had such disgust on his face that I’d have never been able to eat it in front of him. I gave him money for it and I left.”

“Good,” River said. “He doesn’t deserve a date with a woman as beautiful as you.”

Alex nodded his agreement. “He sounds like a moron. His loss.”

It was heart-warming how they rushed to soothe her hurt feelings, but she was still deleting the stupid app when she got home. She’d have done it right then, but she didn’t want to be rude by getting her phone out.

April slipped her arm around Martha’s waist and squeezed comfortingly. “You look lovely, and that jackass was a waste of lipstick.”

“Thank you.”

“At least now you’re here for the bonfire and fireworks with us. That’s much more fun than a date with some random man.”

“You want soup, Martha?” Alex asked.

Martha shook her head. “I had my burger as I walked here. I’m going to have a toffee apple tonight though.”

“Ooh, donuts for me,” River said. “They have hot sugar donuts freshly made at the pink truck.”

It was a cold night, but Martha was wrapped up warmly inside her black woollen coat. She’d worn a dress for her date, but her tights were thick, and she and April held onto each other for warmth while Bethany went around the park taking pictures, and River and Alex stood together in a tight embrace. After a while Alex went for a walk around the park and River joined their little huddle until he returned with donuts for her and a toffee apple for Martha. She always forgot how difficult they were to eat until her face was stained with sticky red toffee like a child’s.

When the bonfire was lit, the heat wrapped around them along with the cloying aroma of smoke. She loved the smell though. Even when she was little, she’d enjoyed the festivities of bonfire night. The flames, the people, the fireworks. When she was younger it had been exciting, and now she was older, it still held the same magic for her.

Even in her twenties, she loved trying to write her name with a sparkler.

Bethany returned to them, sipping a hot chocolate, her cheeks pink from the cold, and a big grin on her face.

“The fireworks are starting soon,” she announced excitedly, her gaze already drifting up to the sky.

Her anticipation was infectious, and they all huddled together, waiting for the bursts of light to flash throughout the black sky.

When they did start the bright colours were vibrant against their dark backdrop, and the bangs made her jump, but they laughed, and they oohed and aahed at the pretty sight.

Dating strangers just wasn’t for Martha. She hadn’t enjoyed any of it. She didn’t feel comfortable, and if she was honest, she’d known nothing was going to come of it because she hadn’t felt attraction for any of them. Not even a hint of desire, and it couldn’t be that way with her mate.

No, dating wasn’t for her, but as she looked at her family, her heart was full. She had a lot in her life. She had love and laughter. She had constant joy. Things weren’t always easy, but she was happy with what she had.

April watched the fireworks with just the slightest curl to her pink lips, whereas Bethany had tipped her head right back, her teeth white from her wide grin, completely immersed in the lights above her. Her camera hung limply, forgotten.

It was the sight of River and Alex that got to her though. They were so natural together. Every act was centred on the other person without them even realising. Alex had his arms wrapped around her waist, leaning down to hear what she was saying, the soft tendrils of her blonde hair brushing his lips.

Both were smiling, but it was the tenderness as they looked at each other that stabbed Martha in the heart. This was nothing special for them, just a conversation like any other day, but it was something Martha wanted for herself.

For someone to look at her the way they looked at each other.

Her mind flashed back to when she’d approached Jeff, her date earlier in the evening and the disappointment she’d seen there.

She sighed, drawing April’s attention.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” she replied. “I’m good.” And she was. She’d love to find her mate, but not the way she had been. She wasn’t searching for him any longer. She’d put her faith in the goddess and have faith that he was out there. Probably pushing a pull door. He’d come when it was the right time, and until then, she had all she needed.

“I forgot to tell you,” April said. “A guy at work has a friend who manages a nightclub, and they’re hiring.”

Oh, right. She had almost all that she needed. A job would be good though. Five days ago, she’d been made redundant from the library she’d worked at for years.

“I know it’s not anything you’ve done before,” April continued, “but you said you wanted something different, and this is different.”

It was certainly that. “Late nights, loud music,” Martha said. “Might be fun.”

April pulled a card from her coat pocket and handed it over. “You just have to email your resume to the manager Mervin.”

Martha looked down at the small, white card in her hand. She’d spent a long time in the peaceful quiet of the library, that a job in a nightclub would be a shock to her senses, but it might just be a shock she needed.

“Thanks, April,” she said.

“You’re welcome.”

Fireworks exploded above her head, the smell of smoke clung to her, she was surrounded by love, and a prickling sense of anticipation washed over her.

Bonfire night was always exciting, but it was the sense of hope in the night air that had her heart kicking up its beat. The future was scary, but it was wide open. Anything could happen. Anything.

 

 

 

 

 

Savings: A Penny at a Time

  I don't have much disposable income. It's a sad but true fact that after paying bills, buying groceries, paying for petrol and the...