Emotions and Over-sensitivity

Evening lovely readers 🙂

As you may have noticed it’s been a whole entire week since my last post. I have to apologise: this is because I am a little old lady in disguise… anyhoo this isn’t a venty post. Well not really. Well maybe a little. Okay, okay it’s a giant venty post lol. It’s just I’ve begun to wonder if others suffer from over-sensitivity and if it’s linked to writing; does it even have a place within the literary World?

If I were to relate this feeling to real life I would more describe it as a deluded sense of empathy towards others. I say deluded because I have no blummin clue what people are feeling or even thinking really. I will say sometimes I’ve been right especially when a close friend has been sad and upset but on the whole I wonder if it’s sensitivity just tinged with a healthy dose of paranoia crossed with my wonderful and much loved creative imagination. Put me in a room with people where there’s a history, where perhaps one person has done something that affects all the rest, then that whole deluded concoction will make me turn all the tension back on me even if it has nothing to do with me. It’s troublesome in that respect, for which I’m truly sorry, but wonderful in others.

My over-sensitivity, or as I call it my deluded empathy, I feel is handy in my writing. I’m quite proud of the fact that I feel I can relate to the emotions of a character. Granted when I well up at an ending I have written myself I may be taking it a bit too far. Technically it helps with the writing too as I feel sensitive to what I actually write, causing me to edit frequently, and to be aware of my language use. I find that each aspect of it helps in its own way and I love it all, being unwilling to apologise for that at least.

As you can see it’s a double edged sword providing both creativity and sadness. Do you find you suffer with this? I’m very proud of my writing but find some techniques just aren’t transferable to the real World.

Thank you 🙂

Oh My God, Super Writer Fan Girl Overload *Explode*

Evening lovely readers 🙂

Well today has been a great day I have to say. As quite a few of you will know the fabulous J. S. Collyer launched her début novel at Fantasticon last weekend in Hull. ‘Zero‘ is a fantastic slice of space pirate rompage mixed with intrigue and adventure, tears and happiness… Suffice it to say Fantasticon went very well and J. S. sold quite a few of her copies, signed of course, while enjoying so many other things. She had her own Q and A session as well as a reading from the stellar novel, a scene from Star Wars to be snapped in, all encompassing VR and oh so very much more 🙂 Here she is below with her Zero table among fellow authors;

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Well today I was thrilled to be able to attend her book signing in our home town of Lancaster (Hull was a little too far for me to attend 🙂 ). It was in the Novel Cafe (I kid you not; go for the cake, stay for the books) which was just the perfect setting in my own humble opinion. As some will know J. S is not only a great friend of mine but also my writing hero and I felt so happy by being able to attend alone. Look at the perdy lady with her best seller 🙂

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Perhaps the best part of today was that J.S took time out of her schedule to talk to you personally; she exhibited both an in-depth love and knowledge of literature while also proving to have a friendly, approachable attitude and personality to any and all. She took her time to write personal messages to each of her readers and conversed greatly with them. Any objective observer of the atmosphere (so not me) could see that J.S is the embodiment of the exceptional writer and will be successful in everything she does. I personally can’t wait for her next publication. I was speechless and honoured at the message she left in my hard copy (you can’t sign an e-book 🙂 );

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Thank you J.S for the wonderful day and also for the wonderful book, it will be on my multiple re-read list for a long time. Good readers, go and buy this book, you will in no way be disappointed!!!

On another smaller insignificant note I just want to say there is no flash fiction this week as I’m working on my second novel as we speak.

Thank you 🙂

Does Your Taste Have Flavour???

Evening lovely readers 🙂

I don’t know why but when I think of the above title all I can think of is the theme tune of the old Kellogs Fruit and Fibre ad; ‘I, I, I, I, I, I love you veryyyyyy much; I, I, I, I, I, I like your flakesssss; with Kellogg’s Fruit and Fibre I’m an easyyy touch; a glass of ice cold milk is all it takessss….’ Don’t ask me why, I’m pretty sure my brain stopped working twenty nine years and eleven moths ago 🙂 What I actually want to talk about is does your literature taste have different flavours? It can be within one genre or cross genre but do you find yourself taken with certain aspects of your writing over others?

As some will know my first novel is with my editor and I’ve enjoyed a little bit of a literary break, well apart from abusing my kindle terribly. Now I’m back and have the unbearable urge to write again and find I’m actually tasting one story over another. While I wait for my first novel to come back to me I had planned to continue with my second novel idea Tears of Ice. However I really want to convert the flash fiction I posted a couple of weeks ago into my second novel. It’s a story about a half lycan half fae trying to deal with what life throws at her (it is interesting honest lol). I’ve been wondering if what I want to write has been flavoured by what I have been reading. Recently I have been into quite a few shifter/lycan/preternatural fantasies and I have wondered if my brain is subconsciously shouting out for it. Maybe I should start reading about archers to get my other one written…

If it comes to it I think I’ll concentrate on the fan fic anyway. It’s something different and something I’ve not tried before and perhaps that’s the flavour that’s the most predominant with me. Maybe I just want that ooey gooey taste of the unfamiliar, velvety caramel  fantasy that comes with trying something brand new… or maybe this is just mad rambling 🙂 Anyhoo, what do you think? Do you find the same happening or when it comes to your own writing do you have a will of iron?

Thank you 🙂

#Flash Sunday (you knew it was coming) – A Life Worth Living

Hello lovely readers.

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Well it seems I’m making a nasty habit of this. I always promise a post a day and that this is coming then or then or then and then of course something gets in the way. I kid you not; I’ve had to go out in search of missing nieces, I attended my friends wedding of the century and I’ve plain just been too tired sometimes. So, now I’m going to just promise I will be posting a heck of a lot just sometimes it may not be everyday lol 🙂

Okay, so I promised a #FlashFriday to celebrate gaining over one hundred new friends. Alas, tiredness and a wedding prevented me from doing that so here’s my #FlashSunday. I tried to not make it fantasy but failed miserably. I had thought to write a series of diary entries consisting of some of the hectic emotions I suffered over the last couple of years but damn I must have been boring lol 🙂 Anyway I hope you enjoy this outing better 🙂

 

A Life Worth Living

Alexiel had to sigh. What Bard worth their salt couldn’t come up with a tale? She was due before the King in one hour but her mind was still cruelly blank. A trickle of cold sweat travelled mockingly down her brow. What path was possibly left to her now?

Oh she knew where her mind block began. She hadn’t been able to create at all since Mikhail had crushed her spirit and then tried to literally crush her. The constant insults and attacks on her confidence she could handle but a gigantic floating boulder? Not so much. Damn mages. Should stick to the library where they belong.

She sighed again. She was wary when he had asked her to dance at the gathering. Mages always had some trick or other up their ridiculously long sleeves; but she had been flattered by the older mage and in awe of his handsome looks. She snorted. If only she had known he wouldn’t keep them.

She glanced at the throne room doors, half her brain worrying about her lack of creativity. The other half contemplated the six and a half years lost to the magical worm. She straightened her deep purple bards robes nervously, wondering how she’d let her mind focus on him. She supposed it was easier than assaulting her mind block, or part of her was angry at the loss of years, or heck that even now she worried how others saw her. She was a bard, her position alone earned her respect. Now however she knew her image had been affected what with being so wrapped up in him. She was severely disgusted in herself.

As she glanced at the throne room once again she was shocked to see the great oaken doors open. Surely it couldn’t be time already? She almost swallowed her tongue as her gaze met a mutual piercing ice blue one. A man had exited; he wore the fine velvet garments of a Lord but something seemed a little off. She couldn’t sense a magical aura but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. He came towards her with kind eyes and a wicked smile and she swore her heart leapt. What is this?

“Greetings Lady Bard,” he said in a mesmerising voice. “I am Lord Duna Ain. It’s a pleasure to meet you. The King speaks so highly of you,” he took her hand and pressed his soft lips to it. At this point she knew she should reply but her mind had turned to fairy mush. Wow, he’s one handsome man. It was evident he could see his effect on her as he smiled once again and said,
“I will see you soon.”
She could be wrong but did his eyes just flash ice blue flames? She watched as he walked briskly away. Wow what an ass.

She shook her head as she was called into the room and realised she had been staring a while. What a mysterious effect this Lord had on her. She found herself hoping they would meet again. She smiled with sudden brilliant clarity; she could now see her story complete with a dashing rogue that had a devilish grin and ice blue eyes. She loved her brain when it worked. Silently nodding her thanks she turned and entered the glittering throne room complete with over a hundred listeners. Every one was a friend and every one she loved.

Passion of My Life

Hello lovely readers 🙂

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A few days ago when thanking all you lovely people who have followed my blog I promised I would dust off my very questionable poetry skills and write something about my passion. I really love to write and use my imagination for strange and wonderful things, as you’ve probably guessed from previous posts lol 🙂 Forgive the calibre of the poem, it’s been a long time and it only took me thirty minutes to write lol 🙂

 

Passion of My Life

Like many in this life who think
To do what they do love
I pick up my large frosted drink
And thank the powers above.

 

I use my brain to think up stuff
With such a happy fashion,
With a sigh and heave and huff
I carry on my passion.

 

Believe me when I come to say
There’s something just so good and bright
When I spend the entire day
With the beautiful, deadly chance to write.
 
And there you go. I told you I was very rusty 🙂 I hope you enjoyed it. Now I must dash as my eight month old is screaming the house down. I guess it’ll have to be a #FlashSaturday again. Sorry 😦

Thank you 🙂

 

 

Wow, Thank You So Much <3 <3 <3

Evening lovely readers 🙂

The post today is just to say thank you so much to everyone who has been kind enough to follow my blog. I have now hit and gone over the one hundred mark. I can’t even begin to tell you how much this means to me. I don’t consider myself a writer, I merely do what I’m passionate about and vent about it along the way 🙂 I am so grateful I have found so many people that put up with my creative attempts and childish complaining 🙂 If I could meet you all I would buy you cake but since I can’t this one will have to do…

On Friday there will be a special #FlashFriday and an attempt at a poem (run now lol) to show how grateful I am. I hope to do justice to your interest in the future and never let you down 🙂 Oh, and my post about active voice use is coming I promise but I was a bit naughty and had a date night with my fiancé yesterday (hence no post postage) and I just had to thank everyone today so it will now come tomorrow I promise 🙂

Thank you 🙂

Passivity, Get Thee to the Bowels of HELL!!!!!!!!

Hello lovely readers 🙂

Today I’m going to talk about something that plagues my writing; the passive voice. This little devil keeps slowly and lazily rearing its ugly head; I mean its passive, its not going anywhere fast.

Essentially, passive voice is when the focus of the sentence is on the action. Those who perform the action are not important. On average, there is usually some version of the verb be which is coupled with a past tense. For example,
                                                                                          ‘She felt her soul had shattered.’

Now this is the complete opposite of using the more active voice where the subject causes the action of the verb, for example – “I sing a song of the soul”. It’s great because in one sentence you get cause and effect, a solid moving forward of the narrative. I, like every other writer in the known World, always try to write my best and if I’m honest using the passive voice is not done intentionally; it’s just really bloody annoying when it pops up regardless lol.

Lets not forget the fact that by making the object of an action into the subject of a sentence can effectively change how we view the World. What?? I hear you shout. How the Hell does grammar affect our view of the World?? Well consider this, how can we understand the World to begin with when the tool we use to define it can be moulded into such a lacklustre, slow, almost drippy language? For example, Richard Mitchell in Elements of Style, stated it best when he wrote – “You may want to object that a whole view of the world and its meanings can hardly be importantly altered by a silly grammatical form. If so, you’re just not thinking. Grammatical forms are exactly the things that make us understand the world the way we understand it. To understand the world, we make propositions about it, and those propositions are both formed and limited by the grammar of the language in which we propose.” Richard Mitchell. 

From now on I will have to make sure I really do rewire my brain to write in the active voice permanently, which I do do in my writing now but passivity attacks on the rare occasion with a vengeance. Does anyone have any tips? I’m not too proud to say I accept any and all advice 🙂 I’m proud of anything and everything I write 🙂 Tomorrow will be a post on my study on the active voice and how I will apply it to my writing.

Thank you, vent over. My head hurts and I feel like my passive polar bear at the top. Hope I haven’t hurt your head too much 🙂

#Flash…erm…Saturday – The Rose and the Heart

Hello lovely readers 🙂

Thank you for your patience yesterday. Here’s my heartfelt post for today; a yummy scrummy oooey gooey piece of fantastical pie layered with a dash of cynicism (I do love me some cynicism.) It’s a bit rushed as I want it done before my baby wakes up but I will improve it as I go 🙂 Enjoy 🙂

The Rose and The Heart 

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Rose sighed. She had to admit that even here she is a freak. It seems she will never live the quiet life she had dreamed of, even though she tried damn hard. She sighed once again and stared down at the letter in her hands. How archaic. She laughed at the letter; ridiculous people. Though they weren’t really her people were they? She’d been outcast at birth and she’s damn well happy to remain so.

She read aloud again, just to make sure she had the gist of it.
“Our beloved Rosethorn, high princess of The People,” wait, when did that happen? “Your father King Goldenleaf has asked for your attendance at his Death bed. Do not delay in coming here.” Dammit. She was Rose Thornby, half breed outcast to the Human realms and hated by The People, just how she damn well liked it. She had been quietly working away on her essay, due in tomorrow her logical mind screamed at her, when a puff of silver magic had appeared and the letter floated down to her grasp. Why was this happening now? She’d heard all about her father from her mother and quite frankly she didn’t want anything to do with him. He’s in a whole different realm, there’s nothing he can do to her now.

Ignoring the rest of the letter she threw it in the bin next to her desk with perhaps more venom then she thought she could muster. Okay, maybe there was a tiny, small, insignificant piece of her that still longs for her father’s love but she’d get over it. She’d had her mother until her poor heart had given out and that was enough. The People, known as the Fae in the Human realm, would have to get along without her.

Just as she went back to her laptop she heard a muffled cough behind her and almost watched in amusement as instinct took over. No one should have been in the house with her. She felt her other self rise up and smiled as soft fur caressed her soul. Bones began to pop and elongate, clothes were shredded, she felt her muzzle start to appear and she knew her soft purple tinged black fur appeared. It was over in an instant and where she had been sitting now stood an impressive wolf, her reason to be an outcast and the secret she loved. She looked at the intruder with a cold gaze. She didn’t know this one but he smelled like he was Fae. Oh, she’d never met one but he smelt like her, only stronger. The intruder visibly gulped.

“Ah…” his deep voice stammered. She had to admit he was a handsome one. Tall with golden tinged skin, black hair and a well muscled body. He wore his iridescent wings for all to see unlike her. She had to hide hers solely to live here. He had delicate pointed ears and very soft features for a man. Her wolf sighed; she had better change back instead of scaring the wings off him.

“Rosethorn?” he asked as she allowed the change to come upon her. It was just as quick though she thanked the wolf for coming to her aid. She may have lost her mother and had no father but the wolf had always been with her, a staunch protector.

“It’s Rose,” she answered, uncaring she was naked after the change like she always was. She could see the man blush and look just pass her.

“It is good to see you again your highness,” he said. Um huh? When had they met before? He could obviously see her confusion as he said,

“My name is Frostfall, I am the Prince of the Winter Fae. We met when you were very young and before your mother ran. I have been sent by your father to escort you back to the High Court.” Okay, now Rose knew she’d misheard.

“Well you can just go back to my so called father and tell him I have no interest in seeing him.” She searched round for any clothing she could, anxious to be covered in front of this man now. He wasn’t pack, Hell she’d never had a pack bar her mother and she was long gone. She heard Frost gasp as he caught sight of her wings,

“It is true then, you are your father’s daughter. You carry the pure silver wings of the royal line. I will admit I had my doubts but now…” he trailed off in awe. What’s the big deal? She’d have them removed if she wasn’t in danger of alerting humans to her kind, whatever the Hell her kind was. She’d never even used her wings, she was pretty sure they were useless.

“Yes, yes, well nice to meet you and all but I’m sure you have other places to be now.” She raised her right hand and let it be encompassed by her own brand of purple magic. Just because she’d never flown doesn’t mean she’d not trained in her magic as soon as she realised she’d had it. She’d learned from a very pleasant elderly sorceress and was quite efficient in it. Chanting a spell in her mind she pointed at Frost and watched as purple light surrounded him. Unable to quell her mischievous side she waved and blew him a kiss just before he disappeared, the purple light taking him hopefully back to his own realm. She smiled; now that had brightened her day.

She began searching again until she finally came across some un-shredded jeans and a top. She put them on quickly and got back to her essay. Her mind kept wandering back to her father though. What if he were truly dying and his last wish was to see her? She shook her head. She had enough to do with finishing University, earning money and just living. He’d not paid interest in her in twenty three years she’s sure he’d get over it now.

She finally got her head down and concentrated on work. She knew she could protect herself but what the Hell else could she expect today?

An Unforgivable Delay to Creative Yumminess

Hello lovely readers 🙂

This is just a quick post to beg your forgiveness for a lack of a proper post. I have been working on a fantastical treat of flash fiction yumminess but alas real life poked its head in and gave me a good slapping. To make up for it there will be a special post tomorrow of something I’ve always wanted to try; to combine the preternatural with the downright fantastical and it will have such literary delights you won’t believe.

Thank you 🙂

Zero by (the always exceptional) J. S. Collyer

Hi lovely readers 🙂

zero-cover

As most will know I’m a bona fide fantasy nut; give me a World full of magic, swords, sorcery and adventure and I can be gone for hours. However, there are times where even I will branch out my literary interests and diversify to broaden my knowledge; also, who isn’t completely in love with Mr Darcy? 🙂 My first understanding of sci fi came from reading my mothers books. She had a fabulous series by the late Anne McCaffrey called The Tower and the Hive series; the first book The Rowan. I remember being taken by such strong female leads in a World where science and technology runs on the power of the mind. I love creative and original stories along those lines.

To which, Zero is the début novel from my wonderful friend, and admittedly my writing hero, J. S. Collyer. It’s a literary slice of ooey gooey space pirate cake that leaves you not only wanting but needing to know more, especially after your damn lucky eyes have taken in the epic ending. This is a multi layered piece rife with exceptional writing, adventure, in-depth character development, adventure and oh yes, lasers; but did I mention adventure? I was lucky enough to receive an advanced review copy and my goodness all I can say is: as soon as the sixteenth of August gets here buy this book, you won’t be disappointed.

Kaleb Hugo is a Service man through and through; he lives, eats, works and breathes that life like no other. He’s positive he’s the best, most focused soldier… until one fateful day he ignores the commands of his higher ups and moves the ship he’s in command of to attack a perceived weakness in the War. What came over him? To the public face Hugo is disgraced, demoted and hated; but in secret he is promoted to Captain of The Zero, a beat up space ship concealing more than just a dented hull; it’s a ship that can get under the radar and accomplish things most Service ships couldn’t. Hugo has to act as a contact for the Service, keep an eye on the missions and report back to his superiors. He didn’t, however, expect to find those on the ship that were loyal, steadfast and perhaps the only friends he could remember having. What would await them in their coming missions?

I cannot begin to tell you all the things which are great about this novel, but I’ll give it a jolly good go anyway. J. S uses such literary diversity that simply pulls you straight into the Universe she has expertly created. I love the velvety feel of language such as ‘Hugo had admitted to himself long ago that Death was something he’d accepted into his life like a friend. Or a lover. It followed him like a phantom.’ Now before you ask yes this is from the first page. Heck it’s the first few lines. I didn’t want to give too much away about J. S’s stellar narrative. However, this is just a small example of what I love about her language use. Unlike many authors, she doesn’t try to make the language too archaic and stiff (don’t ask me why but some authors think stories are better like that) but she keeps it natural and flowing allowing the narrative to just slip into your subconscious and hold onto your interest for many hours before you even notice. She also has an uncanny ability to not alienate readers by being too scientific, if you catch me. She smoothly traverses into the science part of her science fiction in such a way that even someone as daft as me can understand it and thoroughly enjoy it. This is what makes her such a stunning writer.

The part of the novel I really liked however is that J. S. manages to reach into my chest and crush my heart into a million pieces (God how over dramatic does that sound?). I won’t give any details away but there is a part of the narrative that I’m not ashamed to admit brought a tear to my eye. The crew must endure a soul destroying time and the adversity which follows not only at the time but a year later as well. You can really feel the emotion in the writing which in turn forcibly drags your emotions to the surface and waves them in your face. It’s been such a long time since I’ve felt such a response to a book that it had me enthusing about its author. It’s incredible.

Please, please, PLEASE buy this book when you can. Not only will you be getting a jolly great read but you’ll discover a literary World you may never have experienced before. You’ll love every minute. I’m still going to buy a hard back copy of the book and beg J. S. to sign it, it’s just that great.

Thank you 🙂

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