Tag Archives: Indie Author

Tomorrow never comes

It’s never too late. That’s what I told myself before my children were born, before they had limber arms and chubby legs with twinkly little toes to tickle at bath time. Now they stamp and moan, giants with children’s hearts, eating everything in sight. And those toes, oh those sweet smelling toes that deserved to be counted and bathed with care, are now tucked out of sight and out of mind. I waited for the perfect moment to be a writer; waited till the family grew and needs were fewer. Nothing seemed to change and my tomorrow never came.

Then something happened. It crept out of the folds of the autumn sunshine one day, washing my bedroom with its golden rays. It whispered of romance and heartache and wretched betrayal. It grew into an idea, into words, into sentences. That was the day Deception was born.  Nothing had changed in my life: the needs were the same, those loving footsteps filling my world with chaos. Yet, those whispers couldn’t be ignored. I had to capture those thoughts, those words, those sentences. I had to be a writer.

I wonder if any of my bloggers feel that way about the birth of their book babies that shaped their writing careers. I wonder if there are people out there waiting for their tomorrow, waiting for that right moment to capture their story and make that brave step towards sharing it with the world.

What if your tomorrow never comes?

 

 

Monday Coffee

Quick, grab the life saver and swim to shore. I’ll explain everything once we’re back on dry land. Watch out! There comes another tsunami of words to drown us out. Swim, swim for your sanity!

Phew. We made it. I’ve been drowning in b.s. all week and it has been a struggle without you to make sense of my words. Paddling in the shallows would have been fine but now that I’m stuck in the deep end of my book, I can’t seem to navigate a safe route home. Sometimes company keeps one sane in situations like this. Enough of my babble. Let’s warm ourselves by the proverbial editorial fire and I will try to explain my nonsensical text.

I’m drowning. The book that was supposed to be complete by now is not even close to a finished product. With no depth or decent threats to my characters, it’s like reading the altar boy’s version of a Ladybird’s Peter and Jane story. Strange to admit but, the more I write, the more detail I want. Unfortunately, my mind refuses to produce something decent, so I sit there, watching the words lilt and flow just out of reach. While we sit here, sipping from our mugs, munching on oat biscuits (slathered in chocolate of course!), I can feel my characters relishing in my discomfort and laughing their annoying little heads off.

Maybe I should whittle a better vessel plot for my story to hunt down those infernal Moby Dick concepts, but to do so I will need more time, more input, which is not forthcoming. And yes, I know – patience. Who has time for that when another tsunami of b.s. threatens to break my weakening barriers of common sense in a book promising to wash away any good plot that might survive?

I don’t know. Let’s see what the morning tide brings.

 

 

#BookReview. Echoes of Narcissus in the Gardens of Delight by Jo Robinson (@jorobinson176). Creativity and Friendship as Weapons of Liberation

Hi all: I’ve been catching on some of the books I had pending, and as I’ve finally got around to reading one by our fantastic Jo Robinson, I had to share. Here it is: Title:  Echoes of Narcissus in the Gardens of Delight Author:  Jo Robinson   ASIN:  B00RBRYMD6 Published:  21st December 2014 Pages:  230 […]

https://litworldinterviews.wordpress.com/2015/09/28/bookreview-echoes-of-narcissus-in-the-gardens-of-delight-by-jo-robinson-jorobinson176-creativity-and-friendship-as-weapons-of-liberation/