My answer to the above is no, not really.Grown ups have too many problems; boring problems. A Monday Musing question was posed - which do you prefer: Adult -or- Young Adult books? Or, both? Why? As most of you know, I write contemporary romance - for adults because sometimes my characters can get a little too naughty to be able to label them Young Adult. I must adhere to the guidelines. No naughty stuff before 18, please {even though we all know 18's and under, especially in this day and age tend to have 'fun'.}
Are the adult storylines too predicatable? Shitty ex husbands, no money, job loss, memory loss, you name it loss.. I suppose they are but then, isn't this what our readers of romance expect? People like to feel safe. I think this can be said for any genre. I love psycological thrillers, detective and lawyer stories but - hey - it does tend to be the same old. As someone once said, there are no new stories, just a retelling of old. As authors we strive to make our interpretation as unique as we can. Even Shakespeare 'stole' Romeo and Juliet but, boy, did he make it his own.
Oh but I do love the passion of the YA heroine.There is more scope for the imagination. Feelings are raw, perhaps more honest. Angst is always at its most angsiest when felt by teenagers. The joy and pain of first love, when the world can can crashing down because of something as trivial as a new crop of spots just before that all important first date. Being the eternal teenager, I love these tales of first love. I think this is where The Twilight saga excels. I felt Bella's pain. Excessive, maybe, but so real. Who doesn't recall feeling that sense of abject dispair?
Of course, in the 'grown up' world, our characters are expected to follow the current fashion for being strong and and sensible. I think this is why I prefer to make my heroines young, late teens or early twenties and always inexperienced in love. This is where my older and not always wiser hero comes in, helping them to grow and become aware of their sexuality. It's more fun.
Saying that'adult' books can be fun. Check out Jilly Cooper's Bella, Harriet, Emma. You will see what I mean
Viv
Welcome to the world of a grecophile romance author
Monday, 28 February 2011
Friday, 25 February 2011
Six Sentence Sunday Virgin
Welcome back, all you happy campers,
What - two posts in one week? Ha ha - well I have decided to join those in the know and participate in Six Sentence Sunday. Oh , my first time. I hope it won't hurt. So, what shall six sentence about? I think Written in Stone. quick blurb to set the scene....
Dumped five days before her wedding, Cassandra Hall decides not to waste the
honeymoon. She sets off to London. What was supposed to be her dream week turns into a nightmare time of introspect, self-doubt. Then she meets James, literally falling at his feet in an attempt to save his Afghan hound from colliding head on with the traffic.
James is witty, charming, too good-looking and also—not available. Despite this,
Cassie is captivated by him. What follows is a week of fun, companionship and a bonding Cassie has never experienced.
James, sensing Cassie’s unhappiness, goes out of his way to make up for her jerk of a fiancé’s rejection. He is drawn to her vulnerability—something he finds disturbing, threatening to shatter all he thought he knew about himself.
Cassie, he senses, is falling in love with him. He ought to back away but cannot.
Cassie bravely makes her true feelings known and when he rejects her, he knows he has broken her heart. He is left confused, guilty because…James has a secret.
Cassandra Hall stared across the park. A fresh autumn breeze teased at her shoulders,
cool fingers determined to infiltrate the gap between neck and coat. Hastily, Cassie pulled
up her collar.
The day was September mellow. Trees whispered to one another, shedding their
tiresome load of brown and russet, mocking the aged park attendant as he struggled to keep
up with the deepening blanket of leaves. A gentle sky, cream and blue-tinged, held a warm
sun. The rays danced upon her knees, and yet Cassie shivered. Her toes felt numb inside her
new, wildly expensive boots, but then she was numb all over.
If you like what you read, go to the Muse bookstore for further details
https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore2/index.php?page=shop.product_details&flypage=flypage.tpl&product_id=112&category_id=64&option=com_virtuemart&Itemid=1
More sentences next week, folks.
What - two posts in one week? Ha ha - well I have decided to join those in the know and participate in Six Sentence Sunday. Oh , my first time. I hope it won't hurt. So, what shall six sentence about? I think Written in Stone. quick blurb to set the scene....
Dumped five days before her wedding, Cassandra Hall decides not to waste the
honeymoon. She sets off to London. What was supposed to be her dream week turns into a nightmare time of introspect, self-doubt. Then she meets James, literally falling at his feet in an attempt to save his Afghan hound from colliding head on with the traffic.
James is witty, charming, too good-looking and also—not available. Despite this,
Cassie is captivated by him. What follows is a week of fun, companionship and a bonding Cassie has never experienced.
James, sensing Cassie’s unhappiness, goes out of his way to make up for her jerk of a fiancé’s rejection. He is drawn to her vulnerability—something he finds disturbing, threatening to shatter all he thought he knew about himself.
Cassie, he senses, is falling in love with him. He ought to back away but cannot.
Cassie bravely makes her true feelings known and when he rejects her, he knows he has broken her heart. He is left confused, guilty because…James has a secret.
Cassandra Hall stared across the park. A fresh autumn breeze teased at her shoulders,
cool fingers determined to infiltrate the gap between neck and coat. Hastily, Cassie pulled
up her collar.
The day was September mellow. Trees whispered to one another, shedding their
tiresome load of brown and russet, mocking the aged park attendant as he struggled to keep
up with the deepening blanket of leaves. A gentle sky, cream and blue-tinged, held a warm
sun. The rays danced upon her knees, and yet Cassie shivered. Her toes felt numb inside her
new, wildly expensive boots, but then she was numb all over.
If you like what you read, go to the Muse bookstore for further details
https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore2/index.php?page=shop.product_details&flypage=flypage.tpl&product_id=112&category_id=64&option=com_virtuemart&Itemid=1
More sentences next week, folks.
Thursday, 24 February 2011
INK,GLORIOUS INK
Afternoon, all.
Great news this week. Finally, I have completed the first draft of Past Undone. I have to admit, I have really struggled with this one. Begun last June while at work {hope my boss doesn’t read this blog}, I somehow become distracted and never completed it. Ok, so I lie with the ’somehow’. I know exactly how but best not get into that. The wad of scribbled story languished on my coffee table until two weeks ago when. {trumpet fanfare, a shaft of light from above} the muse came upon me. Actually, I embellish the tale. Due to my household being one laptop down, I had to share Facebook time with my daughter – which left me with time {do I really spend so much time in Mark Zuckerberg’s kingdom?} to take another look at my poor, abandoned project. Well I had to do something to combat the FB withdrawal symptoms. I am so glad I did. I am very happy with Past Undone. It represented a challenge, straying slightly, as I did, out of my comfort zone. More on this next week.
So do you all think I am eccentric? Do I care – no. I think one has to be a little off the wall to be a writer. Why else would you choose to spend more than half your life chained to a desk, recreating worlds in which your always get your man. {Who, incidentally, all look like Enrique/Russell/Gerard}.
And why else would I put myself through the emotional angst of my characters as they tread the rocky, oft grief-laden road to true love and happy ever after happiness? Because I am a masochist. Thing is, if I cannot relate to my characters pain, how can I convince my readers to do the same? Hell, at the end of my recently finished new tale, I cried, it was so sad.
And that’s just the fun part of a writer’s life. Did I mention the endless hours of promo – blogs, review chasing, loop posting? As I mentioned a few days back – send me an assistant, please. Oh but not for all for this. Someone to take care of my household would suffice. Being eccentric, I actually love all of the above. It’s the infringement of the ’real’ world I object to.
We writers all have our little quirks, I suspect. Let’s concentrate on one: our writing tools. Personally, I cannot write straight on to pc. I love the feel of paper and pen in my hand.
When I was still at school, my favourite possession was a Parker fountain pen. It was a gift from my boyfriend {thinking back, I suspect he probably nicked it but that’s another story.} I digress. I have always adored fountain pens. As a weirdo child, I loved to browse the local stationers, staring wistfully at the display cases of beautiful Parker and Schaeffer pens. My favourite Christmas gift of all time was a little post office set, complete with ink well and old-fashioned dip pen. There is something about the smell of ink that drives me crazy {No, it’s not a fetish before you writers of erotica get all hot under the collar”}
My faithful Parker pen took me though two years of Sixth form and my A levels. I know, had I lost that pen, I would never have been able to sit them. {This was in the days when you actually had to write pages of coherent essays to pass}. It was with this same pen, I churned out reams and reams of a teenage romance that I passed amongst my classmates. When I say reams, I mean reams. Margaret Mitchell, eat your heart out.
I carried this pen with me when I set out on my new life on Corfu. There, I begun yet another never to see the light of publishing day work. And then – disaster. While I was in the UK, giving birth to my son, my delightful mother in law found my six inch high manuscript with pen attached and burned it because she thought it was rubbish. Not that my writing was rubbish – after all she can’t read English so wouldn’t know {it probably was rubbish} – but she really believed It was for the trashcan. I think she may even have started a bonfire with it.
So, into the present I jump. I never did replace that beloved Parker. First loves are so hard to recover from. What could I do? I didn’t have sufficient money to buy another fountain pen with the required gold nib plus I abhor ballpoints. I cannot write with them. They make my wrist hurt. But, then I discovered the wonder of the gel pen. This opened up a whole new world of stress for me. There are sooo many different makes of gel pen. Added to this nightmare problem, Corfu town is inundated with wonderful little stationers, all selling a great variety of this 21st century gem. I have been known to spend an entire shopping evening, traipsing from store to store, trying out numerous pens until I am satisfied. Great success, as Mr. Borat would say. I thought I had found one; one I would be destined to spend the rest of my writing days with. Alas, life is too cruel. The b**stard pen company discontinued the line. And so, I struggle on in my quest for the perfect writing tool.
I have improved, I stress. I am no longer so fussy about the quality of my A4 paper. When in the ‘zone’ I will jot down notes anywhere. {not quite used toilet paper yet but it will come.}. I often wish I had one of those Star War force mind thingies that instantly transported my thought from my brain to paper. I often come up with my best scenarios sitting on the bus but, being a bad traveler, I cannot look down to write or I throw up. I have been known to talk to myself as I run through dialogue. I am lucky. No one in Corfu cares. Half the folk on my bus route are on day release from the psychiatric home anyway. I blend in a treat but I guess you all realized that. Until next time, in the words of the delectable Jon Bon Jovi, keep the faith. {I know the Right Hon Rev Ian Paisley said it first but he is hardly delectable.}
oops - nearly forgot. Lst week's competion winner is Wendy Thompson from the UK. She succesfully picked my top three fave lovesongs. actually, it was four because two tied for fouth place. I couldn't decide.
1}Sara - Fleetwood Mac.
2}Fist time - Roberta Flack
3} Run - SnowPatrol tied with Electricity - Anathema.
I leave you with a song about writing.
Viv
Great news this week. Finally, I have completed the first draft of Past Undone. I have to admit, I have really struggled with this one. Begun last June while at work {hope my boss doesn’t read this blog}, I somehow become distracted and never completed it. Ok, so I lie with the ’somehow’. I know exactly how but best not get into that. The wad of scribbled story languished on my coffee table until two weeks ago when. {trumpet fanfare, a shaft of light from above} the muse came upon me. Actually, I embellish the tale. Due to my household being one laptop down, I had to share Facebook time with my daughter – which left me with time {do I really spend so much time in Mark Zuckerberg’s kingdom?} to take another look at my poor, abandoned project. Well I had to do something to combat the FB withdrawal symptoms. I am so glad I did. I am very happy with Past Undone. It represented a challenge, straying slightly, as I did, out of my comfort zone. More on this next week.
So do you all think I am eccentric? Do I care – no. I think one has to be a little off the wall to be a writer. Why else would you choose to spend more than half your life chained to a desk, recreating worlds in which your always get your man. {Who, incidentally, all look like Enrique/Russell/Gerard}.
And why else would I put myself through the emotional angst of my characters as they tread the rocky, oft grief-laden road to true love and happy ever after happiness? Because I am a masochist. Thing is, if I cannot relate to my characters pain, how can I convince my readers to do the same? Hell, at the end of my recently finished new tale, I cried, it was so sad.
And that’s just the fun part of a writer’s life. Did I mention the endless hours of promo – blogs, review chasing, loop posting? As I mentioned a few days back – send me an assistant, please. Oh but not for all for this. Someone to take care of my household would suffice. Being eccentric, I actually love all of the above. It’s the infringement of the ’real’ world I object to.
We writers all have our little quirks, I suspect. Let’s concentrate on one: our writing tools. Personally, I cannot write straight on to pc. I love the feel of paper and pen in my hand.
When I was still at school, my favourite possession was a Parker fountain pen. It was a gift from my boyfriend {thinking back, I suspect he probably nicked it but that’s another story.} I digress. I have always adored fountain pens. As a weirdo child, I loved to browse the local stationers, staring wistfully at the display cases of beautiful Parker and Schaeffer pens. My favourite Christmas gift of all time was a little post office set, complete with ink well and old-fashioned dip pen. There is something about the smell of ink that drives me crazy {No, it’s not a fetish before you writers of erotica get all hot under the collar”}
My faithful Parker pen took me though two years of Sixth form and my A levels. I know, had I lost that pen, I would never have been able to sit them. {This was in the days when you actually had to write pages of coherent essays to pass}. It was with this same pen, I churned out reams and reams of a teenage romance that I passed amongst my classmates. When I say reams, I mean reams. Margaret Mitchell, eat your heart out.
I carried this pen with me when I set out on my new life on Corfu. There, I begun yet another never to see the light of publishing day work. And then – disaster. While I was in the UK, giving birth to my son, my delightful mother in law found my six inch high manuscript with pen attached and burned it because she thought it was rubbish. Not that my writing was rubbish – after all she can’t read English so wouldn’t know {it probably was rubbish} – but she really believed It was for the trashcan. I think she may even have started a bonfire with it.
So, into the present I jump. I never did replace that beloved Parker. First loves are so hard to recover from. What could I do? I didn’t have sufficient money to buy another fountain pen with the required gold nib plus I abhor ballpoints. I cannot write with them. They make my wrist hurt. But, then I discovered the wonder of the gel pen. This opened up a whole new world of stress for me. There are sooo many different makes of gel pen. Added to this nightmare problem, Corfu town is inundated with wonderful little stationers, all selling a great variety of this 21st century gem. I have been known to spend an entire shopping evening, traipsing from store to store, trying out numerous pens until I am satisfied. Great success, as Mr. Borat would say. I thought I had found one; one I would be destined to spend the rest of my writing days with. Alas, life is too cruel. The b**stard pen company discontinued the line. And so, I struggle on in my quest for the perfect writing tool.
I have improved, I stress. I am no longer so fussy about the quality of my A4 paper. When in the ‘zone’ I will jot down notes anywhere. {not quite used toilet paper yet but it will come.}. I often wish I had one of those Star War force mind thingies that instantly transported my thought from my brain to paper. I often come up with my best scenarios sitting on the bus but, being a bad traveler, I cannot look down to write or I throw up. I have been known to talk to myself as I run through dialogue. I am lucky. No one in Corfu cares. Half the folk on my bus route are on day release from the psychiatric home anyway. I blend in a treat but I guess you all realized that. Until next time, in the words of the delectable Jon Bon Jovi, keep the faith. {I know the Right Hon Rev Ian Paisley said it first but he is hardly delectable.}
oops - nearly forgot. Lst week's competion winner is Wendy Thompson from the UK. She succesfully picked my top three fave lovesongs. actually, it was four because two tied for fouth place. I couldn't decide.
1}Sara - Fleetwood Mac.
2}Fist time - Roberta Flack
3} Run - SnowPatrol tied with Electricity - Anathema.
I leave you with a song about writing.
Viv
Thursday, 17 February 2011
NOT IN IT FOR THE MONEY...AND MY TOP TEN LOVE SONGS
Bonjour, Kalimera and welcome,
And so another week passes and, I am pleased to say, it’s been productive. Two reviews and an interview up on my various social network sites, future blogs and interview questions sent off and the mastering of PowerPoint {ish}. My greatest week’s achievement, however, is that I have managed to steam ahead on my work in progress. It really was beginning to drag me down. This work is a tad out of my comfort zone; still romance but with certain plot twists that had me struggling. All I can say is hats off to all you suspense/mystery writers out there. I will not be giving up my day job anytime soon.
Ah, what a nice lead in to my next topic. Writing – career or hobby. Recently the question was put to me, am I reaping financial benefits from all my hours of slog? I had to answer, not yet but I do hope to in the future. My friend’s response to this was, so really, your writing is just a hobby. This wasn’t said in a disparaging way but it made me think, is it a reflection of modern day society when success is judged on financial gain? As a writer, I feel far from unsuccessful. I have written and had four novels published with plenty more, I hope, to come. For me, I feel such a thrill when I received a positive review, perhaps more than if I receive news of a sale. I never went into this game expecting to come out JK Rowling rich, although it would be nice. In fact, I was so not into financial reward, I let all my friends read my manuscripts for free. That, I no longer do. Hey, they can buy the book like everyone else. Do I give my books as gifts? I have done on occasion and usually to a special few close friends. I know they probably won’t read them {these friends tend to be guys and not really into romance} but it was more about finding a personal gift. What can be more personal than my thoughts, feelings expressed on paper?
And so on to Valentine’s week. Needless to say, I received the same gift I receive every year; a big fat nothing. I think Rafa would have gone out and bought me something but he’d spent all his pocket money on sunflower seeds. Being the week of love, it got me thinking it was time for one of my Top Tens. I thought, this week, I would post what I consider to be the top ten most romantic love songs of all time. A daunting task because I could list a hundred. Let’s face it; everyone has a personal favourite, one that will evoke memories of one’s first love, first kiss, their wedding day. Some of my choices have been covered by many different artists, in some cases well and some disastrously. Where I can, I will include a cover version that I feel did a fairly good job. So, I think I will make this interesting. The songs will be listed in no order of my personal preference but, anyone who can list what they think is my own top three {in order of my preference} will win a free download copy of Dreamweek – the prequel to Fragile Dreams. Closing date will be tomorrow 2pm est. time. Please listen to all the songs first and then post a comment with your answer. I would love to hear your thoughts. Til next week, get out the tissues and let’s have a good romantic weep.
1} Run Snow Patrol : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AOBs8dU4Pb8
Run Leona Lewis {cover} http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iL_SmIjlg3s&feature=related
2} First Time Ever I saw your Face - Roberta Flack http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Go9aks4aujM
First time Ever -Leona Lewis: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HYrt7coJE5Q&feature=related
3} Electricity – Anathema: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9LwN_J88-Nc
4} I Want to know what love is – Foreigner: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=loWXMtjUZWM
{A footnote here. I know Mariah covered it but so badly I refuse to post the link. Some things should be left alone.}
5}Is this Love ? – Whitesnake: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QoJMLBWTkrw
6}Tu M’ Aime Encore – Celine Dion : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A7RzWQqcIfA
Tu M’aime Encore – Il Divo {purely coz they look so GOOD}
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JCn3hsrBKgA
7}Knights in White Satin – Moody Blues: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7rkgm1yGgbM
Knights in White Satin – Matt Cardle: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OgPTL-_wnCM
8} It’s Over – Roy Orbison: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jjMfQG4DejQ
9}Unchained Melody – Righteous Brothers: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D6xb_ddP4nM
Unchained Melody – Il Divo {again coz they’re hot} http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FVtrPwxpeJw
10} Sara – Fleetwood Mac:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RHJb87nNsGY
And so another week passes and, I am pleased to say, it’s been productive. Two reviews and an interview up on my various social network sites, future blogs and interview questions sent off and the mastering of PowerPoint {ish}. My greatest week’s achievement, however, is that I have managed to steam ahead on my work in progress. It really was beginning to drag me down. This work is a tad out of my comfort zone; still romance but with certain plot twists that had me struggling. All I can say is hats off to all you suspense/mystery writers out there. I will not be giving up my day job anytime soon.
Ah, what a nice lead in to my next topic. Writing – career or hobby. Recently the question was put to me, am I reaping financial benefits from all my hours of slog? I had to answer, not yet but I do hope to in the future. My friend’s response to this was, so really, your writing is just a hobby. This wasn’t said in a disparaging way but it made me think, is it a reflection of modern day society when success is judged on financial gain? As a writer, I feel far from unsuccessful. I have written and had four novels published with plenty more, I hope, to come. For me, I feel such a thrill when I received a positive review, perhaps more than if I receive news of a sale. I never went into this game expecting to come out JK Rowling rich, although it would be nice. In fact, I was so not into financial reward, I let all my friends read my manuscripts for free. That, I no longer do. Hey, they can buy the book like everyone else. Do I give my books as gifts? I have done on occasion and usually to a special few close friends. I know they probably won’t read them {these friends tend to be guys and not really into romance} but it was more about finding a personal gift. What can be more personal than my thoughts, feelings expressed on paper?
And so on to Valentine’s week. Needless to say, I received the same gift I receive every year; a big fat nothing. I think Rafa would have gone out and bought me something but he’d spent all his pocket money on sunflower seeds. Being the week of love, it got me thinking it was time for one of my Top Tens. I thought, this week, I would post what I consider to be the top ten most romantic love songs of all time. A daunting task because I could list a hundred. Let’s face it; everyone has a personal favourite, one that will evoke memories of one’s first love, first kiss, their wedding day. Some of my choices have been covered by many different artists, in some cases well and some disastrously. Where I can, I will include a cover version that I feel did a fairly good job. So, I think I will make this interesting. The songs will be listed in no order of my personal preference but, anyone who can list what they think is my own top three {in order of my preference} will win a free download copy of Dreamweek – the prequel to Fragile Dreams. Closing date will be tomorrow 2pm est. time. Please listen to all the songs first and then post a comment with your answer. I would love to hear your thoughts. Til next week, get out the tissues and let’s have a good romantic weep.
1} Run Snow Patrol : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AOBs8dU4Pb8
Run Leona Lewis {cover} http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iL_SmIjlg3s&feature=related
2} First Time Ever I saw your Face - Roberta Flack http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Go9aks4aujM
First time Ever -Leona Lewis: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HYrt7coJE5Q&feature=related
3} Electricity – Anathema: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9LwN_J88-Nc
4} I Want to know what love is – Foreigner: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=loWXMtjUZWM
{A footnote here. I know Mariah covered it but so badly I refuse to post the link. Some things should be left alone.}
5}Is this Love ? – Whitesnake: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QoJMLBWTkrw
6}Tu M’ Aime Encore – Celine Dion : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A7RzWQqcIfA
Tu M’aime Encore – Il Divo {purely coz they look so GOOD}
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JCn3hsrBKgA
7}Knights in White Satin – Moody Blues: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7rkgm1yGgbM
Knights in White Satin – Matt Cardle: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OgPTL-_wnCM
8} It’s Over – Roy Orbison: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jjMfQG4DejQ
9}Unchained Melody – Righteous Brothers: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D6xb_ddP4nM
Unchained Melody – Il Divo {again coz they’re hot} http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FVtrPwxpeJw
10} Sara – Fleetwood Mac:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RHJb87nNsGY
Thursday, 10 February 2011
Wanted - Personal Assistent
Oh what a beautiful morning, oh what a beautiful day….tra la….
Good morning, happy campers. I really shouldn’t rub it in. I know, but the weather, here, in Corfu has been beautiful for the past week; brilliant sunshine, crisp air, snow-kissed mountains shimmering in the distance. I think I should be out there walking or swimming or something…which leads me nicely on to a question posed by my dear friend over at Alternative Read – what does an over-worked, stressed author/mother/chief cook and bottle washer do for exercise? Answer? Not a lot – although I hasten to add my typing fingers are extremely toned. There just does not seem enough hours in the day to fit in a measly one hour work out {which my spreading pc chair bum desperately needs}.
To be fair to myself, I have tried. I did begin on a workout program two weeks ago. I managed at least four sessions but all the while, my gaze strayed to my screen, the constant messenger ping of mail received tugged at my heart. Oh how I long to go back to four years ago when I was so focused and devoted to exercise. {Blame Madonna’s Confessions on a Dance floor –} Two one hour sessions daily of a routine I put together, followed by the lifting of small weights, not to mention the ballet plies whilst washing up or cooking. And with the arrival of summer, top this up with one-hour morning swim before work. Also, I had been known to perform butt squeezed while standing in the bank queue. Needless to say I was very popular with the old boys waiting for the pensions behind me.
I had never felt or looked so good in all my life – or so I believed. Apparently, I was too thin. I ask you – when can a girl be too thin. Ok, at a mere 43 kilos I was a tad skinny but, hey, did I look good in jeans. Where am I going with this? I have a question – Why is it when someone has been on a diet, lost a lot of weight, up goes the nagging cacophony….oh…..you have lost too weight BUT…who ever comes out and says…hey I think you’ve piled on the pounds and, yes, you do look like a fat f***ck. No-one, is my answer.
And I fear I am straying from the topic. So what do I do to maintain some form of exercise while writing? Ok, it’s confession time. When I am alone, I shove on my disco/ funk play list and boogie on down until my heart is content and my legs give out. Rafa, my rabbit is rather impressed by all of this. He joins in by running around the coffee table.I have this dilemna. I would love to grow old gracefully and not care about my appearence but I do. I want to be slim and wrinkle free but, at the same time, life is too short to give up on life's little pleasures. How can one live without freshly baked chocolate croissanr, pitas, mythos beers and nights out at a favourite taverna? What is the answer, I ask? Easy -money. That way, I could employ a personal trainer,have botox and throw in a bit of lipo suction for good measure. Otherwise I may end up like this...
So what is new in my life this week? Ah yes, a little brag or two. I have received some great reviews for Fragile Dreams.
http://onehundredromances.blogspot.com/2011/01/review-fragile-dreams.html?showComment=1296566146188#c1610128398814922795
http://www.manicreaders.com/index.cfm?disp=reviews&bookid=6829
I am waiting on a couple for Written in stone to be posted.
It’s always a great feeling for an author when all their blood sweat and tears is rewarded. I also have a couple of interviews coming up. Oh I feel quite famous. Unfortunately, promoting takes up a huge part of any author’s time. Sometimes I am tearing my hair out because I just want to get back to working on my w.i.p but I know I have promo commitments to fill. What I need is a personal assistant. I think I will advertise. How about…
Wanted. Young, handsome, sexy male between 25 and 30 to assist struggling, gorgeously hot, witty and intelligent author, in a very personal manner, in their goal to topple JK Rowling from her perch. C.V nor references essential. I only ask that all candidates bear more than a passing resemblance to either Enrique Iglesias or Rafa Nadal. The successful applicant will be required to escort me to social functions as well as performing daily duties of cooking, cleaning, shopping, typing and any promotional work I deem necessary. Must have a working knowledge of Heavy Metal, Lord of the Rings, Star Wars and Big Bang theory.
There, I shall post this in the Times. I wonder if I will receive any applicants.
Good morning, happy campers. I really shouldn’t rub it in. I know, but the weather, here, in Corfu has been beautiful for the past week; brilliant sunshine, crisp air, snow-kissed mountains shimmering in the distance. I think I should be out there walking or swimming or something…which leads me nicely on to a question posed by my dear friend over at Alternative Read – what does an over-worked, stressed author/mother/chief cook and bottle washer do for exercise? Answer? Not a lot – although I hasten to add my typing fingers are extremely toned. There just does not seem enough hours in the day to fit in a measly one hour work out {which my spreading pc chair bum desperately needs}.
To be fair to myself, I have tried. I did begin on a workout program two weeks ago. I managed at least four sessions but all the while, my gaze strayed to my screen, the constant messenger ping of mail received tugged at my heart. Oh how I long to go back to four years ago when I was so focused and devoted to exercise. {Blame Madonna’s Confessions on a Dance floor –} Two one hour sessions daily of a routine I put together, followed by the lifting of small weights, not to mention the ballet plies whilst washing up or cooking. And with the arrival of summer, top this up with one-hour morning swim before work. Also, I had been known to perform butt squeezed while standing in the bank queue. Needless to say I was very popular with the old boys waiting for the pensions behind me.
I had never felt or looked so good in all my life – or so I believed. Apparently, I was too thin. I ask you – when can a girl be too thin. Ok, at a mere 43 kilos I was a tad skinny but, hey, did I look good in jeans. Where am I going with this? I have a question – Why is it when someone has been on a diet, lost a lot of weight, up goes the nagging cacophony….oh…..you have lost too weight BUT…who ever comes out and says…hey I think you’ve piled on the pounds and, yes, you do look like a fat f***ck. No-one, is my answer.
And I fear I am straying from the topic. So what do I do to maintain some form of exercise while writing? Ok, it’s confession time. When I am alone, I shove on my disco/ funk play list and boogie on down until my heart is content and my legs give out. Rafa, my rabbit is rather impressed by all of this. He joins in by running around the coffee table.I have this dilemna. I would love to grow old gracefully and not care about my appearence but I do. I want to be slim and wrinkle free but, at the same time, life is too short to give up on life's little pleasures. How can one live without freshly baked chocolate croissanr, pitas, mythos beers and nights out at a favourite taverna? What is the answer, I ask? Easy -money. That way, I could employ a personal trainer,have botox and throw in a bit of lipo suction for good measure. Otherwise I may end up like this...
So what is new in my life this week? Ah yes, a little brag or two. I have received some great reviews for Fragile Dreams.
http://onehundredromances.blogspot.com/2011/01/review-fragile-dreams.html?showComment=1296566146188#c1610128398814922795
http://www.manicreaders.com/index.cfm?disp=reviews&bookid=6829
I am waiting on a couple for Written in stone to be posted.
It’s always a great feeling for an author when all their blood sweat and tears is rewarded. I also have a couple of interviews coming up. Oh I feel quite famous. Unfortunately, promoting takes up a huge part of any author’s time. Sometimes I am tearing my hair out because I just want to get back to working on my w.i.p but I know I have promo commitments to fill. What I need is a personal assistant. I think I will advertise. How about…
Wanted. Young, handsome, sexy male between 25 and 30 to assist struggling, gorgeously hot, witty and intelligent author, in a very personal manner, in their goal to topple JK Rowling from her perch. C.V nor references essential. I only ask that all candidates bear more than a passing resemblance to either Enrique Iglesias or Rafa Nadal. The successful applicant will be required to escort me to social functions as well as performing daily duties of cooking, cleaning, shopping, typing and any promotional work I deem necessary. Must have a working knowledge of Heavy Metal, Lord of the Rings, Star Wars and Big Bang theory.
There, I shall post this in the Times. I wonder if I will receive any applicants.
Thursday, 3 February 2011
BUSY, BUSY BUSY
Busy, busy, busy.
It’s been a hectic week over here in sunny/snowy/rainy what the hell is going on with the weather Corfu. I am delighted to say Written in Stone was released on the 1st of the month. Also great news from my publisher. They did extremely well over at the Predators and Editor awards for this year. Congrats to all who carried off a prize.
Great personal news. I received, not one but two very nice reviews for Fragile Dreams
http://onehundredromances.blogspot.com/2011/01/review-fragile-dreams.html?showComment=1296566146188#c1610128398814922795
http://www.manicreaders.com/index.cfm?disp=reviews&bookid=6829
I hope these links work.
It is actually quite difficult having two works released so close together. It’s a bit like trying to divide your time fairly between two children. You love both but who has priority?
Also, this week, I achieved the nigh on impossible. I managed to cut an earlier work of mine from 140, 000 words to just over 90, 000. It took a while and lots of heartache over losing some favourite chapters but I am pleased with the end result. I believe I have created a improvised version. This novel was previously released under the title of Letting Go but will now be re-released with MuseItHot under the new title of Cold, Cold Heart.
AND – I am finally getting to grips with my w.i.p, Past Undone. More info on this later. It is still in creative early stages.
So that’s my news, I think. I am sitting here, slurping at a cup of tea, wondering what I can blog about this week. The previous two topics have been somewhat heavy. I believe it is time for a little frivolity.
Time for another look at ten years out of my life…..but first I want to discuss my favourite kind of hero.
For those of you who have been kind enough to read my books, you will notice one thing my handsome stable of men has in common. They all cry quite a bit. That is not to say they are weak. Au contraire, they are emotionally strong and not afraid to show their feelings. They will, if necessary, die for their loved ones, sacrifice what is most precious to them, maybe even kill…..They are warm, funny and possess boyish charm. They are all kind to animals. They have to be or I would kick their arses from here to eternity.
Example: let’s meet Michael from Fragile Dreams
“You didn’t eat much.”
“Oh you know how it is.” She feigned detachment although her heart raced. This was not the time to ruin the evening. She was having too much fun. “It’s just when I cook… well I tend to taste everything and then….well I’m not hungry and…I have been ill.” Oh God, why had she said it? The words had slipped away from her like a slippery eel on the end of a rod, out of her box of pride. She had no desire to court sympathy, especially his.
His quiet I know caught her square on the chin.
“How?” Her defensive comeback betrayed suspicion.
“I just know.”
Breath froze her lungs. He reached across the pale lilac damask table-cloth and covered her hand with his, touch electric, cool fingers caressing her too-warm skin.
“No one told me.” His tenderness made her head swim. “I can read it in your eyes.”
It wasn’t the answer she’d expected.
“You’re so sad,” he continued, words cradling her senses, soft as goose down. “Tired of life.”
Ellie couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t speak.
He went on, tone seductive. “I understand, you see. I understand because my sister had the same look. She suffered but, like you, she was a fighter. She had strength. I know you too have that strength. Use it. Don’t give up. You will be ok.”
And still he cradled her hand in a cool clasp, thumb tracing snowflake patterns on her palm. It was too surreal and yet his intensity didn’t frighten her. He breathed sincerity.
“She died, didn’t she?”
Pain flickered in his eyes, giving her the answer.
“She did.” His return was unfaltering. “But you won’t.”
“How can you be so sure?” She held his gaze, challenging him to reassure her.
“Because…” He smiled. “I won’t let you.”
Crickets chirped out their symphony, piercing the emotionally layered air. Ellie was all out of logical words. Logic had no place in this dream conversation. “Em….cheesecake?”
The tension fragmented around them, their shared laughter giving Jiminy and company a run for his money. Ellie felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. She was light-headed, free as a bird because….she believed him. He was her salvation.
So, my dear readers, this is the kind of guy who is my hero. Someone who is caring, sensitive – a real man.
And now for a walk down memory lane.
My Top Ten Twenties Moments.
Mmm – this is difficult. So much upheaval in my life: marriage, divorce, moving to Corfu, losing my sister to cancer, another marriage, falling pregnant. I cannot remember exact dates. But let’s concentrate on the fun parts {sorry – pregnancy is not fun}
1} Going to see Superman the Movie in Leicester Square. The moment I lay eyes on Christopher Reeve, I was in love. Kinda weird, seeing I was on my honeymoon.
2} My beautiful black masked silver-blue Afghan puppy, William, winning three championship firsts on his first outing. For any of you who think dog showing is easy, it is not. A lot of hard work and dedication goes into it. Ring craft training, daily exercise to make sure your pooch is in tiptop shape because what is under that magnificent coat is very important. Did I mention the two-hour weekly bath and grooming session? The endless hours on the road? It was great though and the one thing I miss about my life in the UK.
3} Watching Michael Jackson’s Thriller video for the first time. What can I say that has not been said before? Even today, I am enthralled by this dance routine. Will never be one to top it.
4} Watching that historical Borg/McEnroe Wimbledon final. I adored Bjorn and never thought I would find another player to love as much as him but now, of course, I have my Nadal.
5} Fleetwood Mac live at Wembley Arena. Superb. What else can one say about the incredible Stevie Nicks and co?
6} Torvill and Dean winning the gold medal for Ice Dance at the Sarajevo Olympics. Sixes across the board and still one of the most spine-tingling routines ever to grace an ice rink.
7} My first view of Pontikonissi {Mouse Island} from my hotel window. I knew there and then Corfu was the place for me. The Oasis Hotel was where I landed my first job and where I met my hubby to be. Incidentally, 26 years later, I am back working there as receptionist. What can I say? My disco dancing days are over.
8} Hiring out a moped and touring the island with my friend Sara. Back then, Corfu still had many undeveloped beaches, Glyfada being one of them. We arrived there just as the sun was setting. I remember to this day, bathing in that glorious sea, laying after on the warm sand, thinking I was in paradise.
9} Staying up all night with friends and then breakfasting on toast and hot chocolate on the famous Liston of Corfu. We would sit there all day and just watch the world go by.
10} Running around Corfu with my dear friend Wendy Thompson, playing at the Famous Five. How we avoided a term in Corfu’s notorious Psycho ward, I don’t know but then I have come to realize, the inmates of Corfu Psychiatric Hospital are the sane ones. All the nutters – like me – are running loose on the outside. I had a wonderful summer with Wendy, probably because she is on the same wavelength as I am. Crazy! Can’t remember if she was George or Dick.
That’s it, folks. Another insight into my oft-wacky world. Next top ten will my thirties. Oh dear, serious motherhood time. I am sure I will find something nutty to discuss. Live long and prosper, keep the faith and may the force be with you.
Viviane
Wendy and I in Famous Five mode doing our synchronised swimming routine.
<
And here I still am....27 years on.
It’s been a hectic week over here in sunny/snowy/rainy what the hell is going on with the weather Corfu. I am delighted to say Written in Stone was released on the 1st of the month. Also great news from my publisher. They did extremely well over at the Predators and Editor awards for this year. Congrats to all who carried off a prize.
Great personal news. I received, not one but two very nice reviews for Fragile Dreams
http://onehundredromances.blogspot.com/2011/01/review-fragile-dreams.html?showComment=1296566146188#c1610128398814922795
http://www.manicreaders.com/index.cfm?disp=reviews&bookid=6829
I hope these links work.
It is actually quite difficult having two works released so close together. It’s a bit like trying to divide your time fairly between two children. You love both but who has priority?
Also, this week, I achieved the nigh on impossible. I managed to cut an earlier work of mine from 140, 000 words to just over 90, 000. It took a while and lots of heartache over losing some favourite chapters but I am pleased with the end result. I believe I have created a improvised version. This novel was previously released under the title of Letting Go but will now be re-released with MuseItHot under the new title of Cold, Cold Heart.
AND – I am finally getting to grips with my w.i.p, Past Undone. More info on this later. It is still in creative early stages.
So that’s my news, I think. I am sitting here, slurping at a cup of tea, wondering what I can blog about this week. The previous two topics have been somewhat heavy. I believe it is time for a little frivolity.
Time for another look at ten years out of my life…..but first I want to discuss my favourite kind of hero.
For those of you who have been kind enough to read my books, you will notice one thing my handsome stable of men has in common. They all cry quite a bit. That is not to say they are weak. Au contraire, they are emotionally strong and not afraid to show their feelings. They will, if necessary, die for their loved ones, sacrifice what is most precious to them, maybe even kill…..They are warm, funny and possess boyish charm. They are all kind to animals. They have to be or I would kick their arses from here to eternity.
Example: let’s meet Michael from Fragile Dreams
“You didn’t eat much.”
“Oh you know how it is.” She feigned detachment although her heart raced. This was not the time to ruin the evening. She was having too much fun. “It’s just when I cook… well I tend to taste everything and then….well I’m not hungry and…I have been ill.” Oh God, why had she said it? The words had slipped away from her like a slippery eel on the end of a rod, out of her box of pride. She had no desire to court sympathy, especially his.
His quiet I know caught her square on the chin.
“How?” Her defensive comeback betrayed suspicion.
“I just know.”
Breath froze her lungs. He reached across the pale lilac damask table-cloth and covered her hand with his, touch electric, cool fingers caressing her too-warm skin.
“No one told me.” His tenderness made her head swim. “I can read it in your eyes.”
It wasn’t the answer she’d expected.
“You’re so sad,” he continued, words cradling her senses, soft as goose down. “Tired of life.”
Ellie couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t speak.
He went on, tone seductive. “I understand, you see. I understand because my sister had the same look. She suffered but, like you, she was a fighter. She had strength. I know you too have that strength. Use it. Don’t give up. You will be ok.”
And still he cradled her hand in a cool clasp, thumb tracing snowflake patterns on her palm. It was too surreal and yet his intensity didn’t frighten her. He breathed sincerity.
“She died, didn’t she?”
Pain flickered in his eyes, giving her the answer.
“She did.” His return was unfaltering. “But you won’t.”
“How can you be so sure?” She held his gaze, challenging him to reassure her.
“Because…” He smiled. “I won’t let you.”
Crickets chirped out their symphony, piercing the emotionally layered air. Ellie was all out of logical words. Logic had no place in this dream conversation. “Em….cheesecake?”
The tension fragmented around them, their shared laughter giving Jiminy and company a run for his money. Ellie felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. She was light-headed, free as a bird because….she believed him. He was her salvation.
So, my dear readers, this is the kind of guy who is my hero. Someone who is caring, sensitive – a real man.
And now for a walk down memory lane.
My Top Ten Twenties Moments.
Mmm – this is difficult. So much upheaval in my life: marriage, divorce, moving to Corfu, losing my sister to cancer, another marriage, falling pregnant. I cannot remember exact dates. But let’s concentrate on the fun parts {sorry – pregnancy is not fun}
1} Going to see Superman the Movie in Leicester Square. The moment I lay eyes on Christopher Reeve, I was in love. Kinda weird, seeing I was on my honeymoon.
2} My beautiful black masked silver-blue Afghan puppy, William, winning three championship firsts on his first outing. For any of you who think dog showing is easy, it is not. A lot of hard work and dedication goes into it. Ring craft training, daily exercise to make sure your pooch is in tiptop shape because what is under that magnificent coat is very important. Did I mention the two-hour weekly bath and grooming session? The endless hours on the road? It was great though and the one thing I miss about my life in the UK.
3} Watching Michael Jackson’s Thriller video for the first time. What can I say that has not been said before? Even today, I am enthralled by this dance routine. Will never be one to top it.
4} Watching that historical Borg/McEnroe Wimbledon final. I adored Bjorn and never thought I would find another player to love as much as him but now, of course, I have my Nadal.
5} Fleetwood Mac live at Wembley Arena. Superb. What else can one say about the incredible Stevie Nicks and co?
6} Torvill and Dean winning the gold medal for Ice Dance at the Sarajevo Olympics. Sixes across the board and still one of the most spine-tingling routines ever to grace an ice rink.
7} My first view of Pontikonissi {Mouse Island} from my hotel window. I knew there and then Corfu was the place for me. The Oasis Hotel was where I landed my first job and where I met my hubby to be. Incidentally, 26 years later, I am back working there as receptionist. What can I say? My disco dancing days are over.
8} Hiring out a moped and touring the island with my friend Sara. Back then, Corfu still had many undeveloped beaches, Glyfada being one of them. We arrived there just as the sun was setting. I remember to this day, bathing in that glorious sea, laying after on the warm sand, thinking I was in paradise.
9} Staying up all night with friends and then breakfasting on toast and hot chocolate on the famous Liston of Corfu. We would sit there all day and just watch the world go by.
10} Running around Corfu with my dear friend Wendy Thompson, playing at the Famous Five. How we avoided a term in Corfu’s notorious Psycho ward, I don’t know but then I have come to realize, the inmates of Corfu Psychiatric Hospital are the sane ones. All the nutters – like me – are running loose on the outside. I had a wonderful summer with Wendy, probably because she is on the same wavelength as I am. Crazy! Can’t remember if she was George or Dick.
That’s it, folks. Another insight into my oft-wacky world. Next top ten will my thirties. Oh dear, serious motherhood time. I am sure I will find something nutty to discuss. Live long and prosper, keep the faith and may the force be with you.
Viviane
Wendy and I in Famous Five mode doing our synchronised swimming routine.
<
And here I still am....27 years on.
Thursday, 27 January 2011
If I were you……
Morning all from a frosty Corfu. Yes – yesterday -1. Hey – for us, this is positively Arctic.
So, today I thought I would rant about that one little phrase that drives me crazier than any other. I wouldn’t put up with that if I were you. Well, you are not me, are you? In the words of Mr. Bond…never say never.
In a way, this rant is a follow on from the last blog post in so much as it touches on another issue raised in my novel, Fragile Dreams.
Why did Lisa always feel it necessary to remind her of her husband’s iron-rod of control? But that was women; secretly delighting in even their friends’ less than perfect marriage. It drew the spotlight away from their own miserable existence.
Ellie is a women trapped in a loveless marriage. Worse, her husband is a psychological bully. Before I go any further, I must stress I am not going to discuss domestic physical violence. I am not qualified to do so. It is a whole different ball game. No – I would like to focus more on the subtle mind games many men play on their partners. It was a comment made by a friend of mine that led me to consider this topic. We were discussing a mutual acquaintance who, for want of a better word, is controlled by her spouse. His wants always take first place in their household. She bends to his will. My friend’s comment was….how do these women get themselves in that situation…..if that were me, I wouldn’t put up with it. Stop right there, I said. How do you know what you would do? Second, who the hell are you to judge?
I am sure no one sets out for this to happen but that is the thing about control freaks. They are clever, they know what buttons to push and before they know it, their victims are sucked in, seduced maybe by a sweet smile and deceiving words…it’s because I care about you. I can understand how seductive it is in the first throes of romance to believe your man is so possessive because he adores you. A pattern is set, one that is hard to break and once the children come along, it is often too late to change it. More often than not, a woman will put up with the verbal abuse, the constant nagging to try and keep the peace. Of course, for those foreign women there is the added problem; if they were to leave, were can they go? Back to their home country? Not always feasible. One has to look at it from the children’s point of view. In their hearts they are Greek. They do not want to leave everything familiar to them.
My point – do not be too quick to judge. In fact, by coming out with this rubbish, all you are doing is making this person feel even more inadequate. It’s added pressure. If you know someone in this situation then try to be supportive and understanding. What they need is a friend, not a jury.
But what is it about women? Why do we always have to judge? If it isn’t about relationships, it’s about how we raise our kids? Judging, judging – always judging. You don’t let him/ her do that do you? I wouldn’t put up with it. If he was mine blah blah. Oh please – we all have our ideas on child rearing and while we are on the subject of child rearing, what is it with this competitiveness? You know the parent I am talking about. Whose sole conversation revolves around her children’s achievement and begins every conversation with and what is such and such up to, purely so they can ram down your throat what a band of budding little geniuses they have stashed at home. Please – let your kids breathe. Let me breath. Life is not a battlefield. There are no winners or losers. And – I beseech you, less of the…if I was you…
Let’s move on to a happier topic. Music. Where would we be without it? It certainly rocks my world. It is the inspiration behind most of my work. I hear a song and – whoosh – it gives me the mood and atmosphere I am seeking. Do I play music while I write? Not initially, while I am scribbling out my first draft. I am too immersed in my story for any distraction. If I were to play my favourite artists, I would lay down my pen, pick up my air guitar and burst into song or worse – leave my desk completely and jump into disco mode. However, once my tale is down on pc and I begin the tweaking process, then it’s no holding back. The music blares from all speakers. My play list? Depends on my mood. For those who know me, Savage Garden and Darren Hayes are at the top, closely followed by anything heavy metal and rock. I do confess to being a huge Gaga fan. There is something about that feisty, talented, arty young woman that appeals to me. What I do have is particular songs to fit the mood of each one of my stories; a set of lyrics which helped me form the characters.
Cold, Cold Heart – Daniel: ‘Mine’ by Savage Garden http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uwjWfal3v4Y
Actually, Daniel has two songs: Electricity by Anathema
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9LwN_J88-Nc
Dreamweek – Izzie: ‘Pour Que Tu m’aime Encore’ by Céline Dion
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tDkPWd6B7rU&feature=related
Fragile Dreams – Ellie: ‘In Your Eyes’ by Darren Hayes http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tFTmt27R4K4
Written in Stone – Cassie: ‘I Just Want You to Love Me’ by Darren Hayes http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iHN4EQxyf5Y
Class Act – Rebecca: {still looking for a home} ‘Name of the Game’ by Abba
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iJ90ZqH0PWI
Past Undone {wip} –Lily: ‘You Can Still be Free’ by Savage Garden
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1AQuiYPUBiE
Spin – Sara: {ongoing project since…ever, really} ‘Sara” by Fleetwood Mac
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RHJb87nNsGY
Class Act – Rebecca: {still looking for a home} ‘Name of the Game’ by Abba
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iJ90ZqH0PWI
Well, I hope you have enjoyed my little selection. If I had to pick an all-time favourite? It has got to be Sara – Fleetwood Mac.{Well I always wanted to be Stevie Nicks}. See you next week. Back to frivolity and my Top Ten Twenties Moments.
Viv
So, today I thought I would rant about that one little phrase that drives me crazier than any other. I wouldn’t put up with that if I were you. Well, you are not me, are you? In the words of Mr. Bond…never say never.
In a way, this rant is a follow on from the last blog post in so much as it touches on another issue raised in my novel, Fragile Dreams.
Why did Lisa always feel it necessary to remind her of her husband’s iron-rod of control? But that was women; secretly delighting in even their friends’ less than perfect marriage. It drew the spotlight away from their own miserable existence.
Ellie is a women trapped in a loveless marriage. Worse, her husband is a psychological bully. Before I go any further, I must stress I am not going to discuss domestic physical violence. I am not qualified to do so. It is a whole different ball game. No – I would like to focus more on the subtle mind games many men play on their partners. It was a comment made by a friend of mine that led me to consider this topic. We were discussing a mutual acquaintance who, for want of a better word, is controlled by her spouse. His wants always take first place in their household. She bends to his will. My friend’s comment was….how do these women get themselves in that situation…..if that were me, I wouldn’t put up with it. Stop right there, I said. How do you know what you would do? Second, who the hell are you to judge?
I am sure no one sets out for this to happen but that is the thing about control freaks. They are clever, they know what buttons to push and before they know it, their victims are sucked in, seduced maybe by a sweet smile and deceiving words…it’s because I care about you. I can understand how seductive it is in the first throes of romance to believe your man is so possessive because he adores you. A pattern is set, one that is hard to break and once the children come along, it is often too late to change it. More often than not, a woman will put up with the verbal abuse, the constant nagging to try and keep the peace. Of course, for those foreign women there is the added problem; if they were to leave, were can they go? Back to their home country? Not always feasible. One has to look at it from the children’s point of view. In their hearts they are Greek. They do not want to leave everything familiar to them.
My point – do not be too quick to judge. In fact, by coming out with this rubbish, all you are doing is making this person feel even more inadequate. It’s added pressure. If you know someone in this situation then try to be supportive and understanding. What they need is a friend, not a jury.
But what is it about women? Why do we always have to judge? If it isn’t about relationships, it’s about how we raise our kids? Judging, judging – always judging. You don’t let him/ her do that do you? I wouldn’t put up with it. If he was mine blah blah. Oh please – we all have our ideas on child rearing and while we are on the subject of child rearing, what is it with this competitiveness? You know the parent I am talking about. Whose sole conversation revolves around her children’s achievement and begins every conversation with and what is such and such up to, purely so they can ram down your throat what a band of budding little geniuses they have stashed at home. Please – let your kids breathe. Let me breath. Life is not a battlefield. There are no winners or losers. And – I beseech you, less of the…if I was you…
Let’s move on to a happier topic. Music. Where would we be without it? It certainly rocks my world. It is the inspiration behind most of my work. I hear a song and – whoosh – it gives me the mood and atmosphere I am seeking. Do I play music while I write? Not initially, while I am scribbling out my first draft. I am too immersed in my story for any distraction. If I were to play my favourite artists, I would lay down my pen, pick up my air guitar and burst into song or worse – leave my desk completely and jump into disco mode. However, once my tale is down on pc and I begin the tweaking process, then it’s no holding back. The music blares from all speakers. My play list? Depends on my mood. For those who know me, Savage Garden and Darren Hayes are at the top, closely followed by anything heavy metal and rock. I do confess to being a huge Gaga fan. There is something about that feisty, talented, arty young woman that appeals to me. What I do have is particular songs to fit the mood of each one of my stories; a set of lyrics which helped me form the characters.
Cold, Cold Heart – Daniel: ‘Mine’ by Savage Garden http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uwjWfal3v4Y
Actually, Daniel has two songs: Electricity by Anathema
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9LwN_J88-Nc
Dreamweek – Izzie: ‘Pour Que Tu m’aime Encore’ by Céline Dion
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tDkPWd6B7rU&feature=related
Fragile Dreams – Ellie: ‘In Your Eyes’ by Darren Hayes http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tFTmt27R4K4
Written in Stone – Cassie: ‘I Just Want You to Love Me’ by Darren Hayes http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iHN4EQxyf5Y
Class Act – Rebecca: {still looking for a home} ‘Name of the Game’ by Abba
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iJ90ZqH0PWI
Past Undone {wip} –Lily: ‘You Can Still be Free’ by Savage Garden
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1AQuiYPUBiE
Spin – Sara: {ongoing project since…ever, really} ‘Sara” by Fleetwood Mac
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RHJb87nNsGY
Class Act – Rebecca: {still looking for a home} ‘Name of the Game’ by Abba
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iJ90ZqH0PWI
Well, I hope you have enjoyed my little selection. If I had to pick an all-time favourite? It has got to be Sara – Fleetwood Mac.{Well I always wanted to be Stevie Nicks}. See you next week. Back to frivolity and my Top Ten Twenties Moments.
Viv
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