Tag Archives: Family

A new beginning – 2019

I realised that I haven’t updated this blog a while and probably it was about time to fill you in on all writerly things that are happening in my life. Mostly all good!

It’s been a tumultuous six months!

clouds dawn nature ocean

Photo by Александр Прокофьев on Pexels.com

I guess the number one thing is that I now have a permanent job. Writing and communication (of an agricultural and scientific nature) will likely take up the bulk of my employment and I am still continuing to freelance as a science communicator and science content creator.

The second big thing is that I have been asked to submit my novel- ‘The Bridge’ to an agent. So I am polishing and tidying the prose, receiving feedback from beta readers and paying an editor to review it and point out where it falls down in pacing or tone. I think it still needs some polish in regard to some areas I need to work on (a writer should never stop learning the craft!) I am thinking that my previous submissions to editors were a little presumptuous, nothing like hindsight to help focus your goals! It’s getting there and there is nothing like waking up in the morning with a fresh idea having given up on an edit the night before in utter frustration of it just ‘not working’. Eight hours of sleep refreshes not only the body but the mind too!

I’ve been working on some smaller projects too, and my second manuscript ‘Emu’ is in the second draft stage – before I move on to a structural edit. I’ve a third manuscript in the planning stage and considering reviewing a manuscript I wrote three years ago, but it’s not historical which is my current area of interest.

I think the one lesson I’ve learned over the last few months of critique is that not to take things too personally, to not rush, take my time, let the craft of writing soak into my soul and try and keep my chin up (despite the downs and the utter hopelessness that you might drown trying to live the writerly life). The one thing I have is the support of loved ones and many writerly friends who understand the pitfalls and promises!

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day. I am hoping to have some time to myself, to read (Clade by James Bradley), drink delicious Fig Gin and put up my feet!

A life in pictures and in words of love

My Dearest Pa,

There’s this picture of you from when you were a boy sitting in a small go-cart surrounded by three of your sisters. You don’t look happy. Surly is the best description I have for it, but it makes me laugh when I think what might have been going through your mind at the time. ‘I’m hungry’, ‘why is Jean allowed in the go-cart too’, ‘why am I here’, ‘why do I have to smile’ part of any four-year-old boy’s nightmare – to stand still for a photo for five minutes.

The next photo I look at, you’re fourteen, and it’s your first British Merchant Navy passport. You look so damn young — too young to be off to sea, without a parent and without the doting sisters around you. There are photos of you on the ship smiling, hoisting rigs, chummy with shipboard mates, drinking beer and sharing a laugh.

There’s a photo from your first visit to Australia, outside a Fremantle hotel, then there’s the one of you crammed into a photo booth laughing it up with a mate.

As you became older you became more handsome, you dressed smarter, looked dapper and there are pictures of you with your arm around pretty girls, the prettiest of all being mum. There are photos of you and mum at your wedding, standing stiffly on the church steps and later there’s honeymoon pics, Blackpool I think, standing on the deck of a ship your arms around each other, on the beach in fashionable swim wear. Later you’re holding Jan or Stu, or the dog who’s name I never remember. There are ones from when you came here, cooking barbeques in late setting summer suns wearing nothing but the skimpiest of seventies shorts. There are party shots too, laughing and drinking and dancing and canoodling. There is so much laughter and life in those photos.

That is what I want to remember, what I want to thank you for sharing. When I look at these photos, I see your gentle heart, the man who teared up at Lassie films, who sang me silly songs with snippets of languages you learnt on your travels. I see the man who knew many fine Scottish folk tunes, ones he sang in houses and halls drunkenly slurred when your arms were around friends or family. Or as you donned a kilt or slew us with your terrible skills on a bagpipe.

You were the one I went to when I needed to remember the lighter side of life, you made me laugh, you made me forget that life is sometimes not fair. I love you and will never forget you.

Nancy