Tag Archives: happiness

just gone

I miss you already,
Although just gone,
Your sweet kiss a wisp,
Leaving me smiling alone,
The morning just waking,
Teddy’s poo on the floor,
Sharp tang of bleach and soap,
Take over the kitchen once more.

Your gentlest touch, cold
To touch, your twinkling eyes
Still on mine, the cats playing as
Always, and the old smelly guy’s
Still fine.

The waking house, Sky still
Sleeping, ticking clocks in my ear, stereo
Clicking away the time of the year, and yet
Still I can see you, still smiling, still mine, your
Wicked sense of humour, your gorgeous self tangled
With mine.

Peace at last,
Still inside, calm from the whirling storm,
Meteors touching down in Russia like a dream,
Sci-fi movie come true, Bible-thumpers screaming
The world’s ending too soon, while our hopes are
Still warm, our eyes up to the sky, the cats are
Still playing, Teddy growling his dissent,
Wishy whinging for love, Sky snoozing
In her room, and me thinking of you,
This is life as we know it, no surprise
It is true, and the only perfection
That we don’t already have,
Is to tie that sacred knot,
When I get to marry,
You.

what’s up?

The sky
Blue and clear as a newborn’s eyes
Remembering moments of pure
Bliss, weekend all day barbeques
Nothing amiss,
England’s awakening from winter’s
Cold dark shadow, and life awakens
Brash, bold, beautiful, just for
You and I to enjoy, to smile,
Breach the ice that holds each other at
Arm’s length, breed instead
The warmth of human contact,
With smiling shared and laughter,
Remember that, no matter how bad
It is, someone else always
Has it worse. Feel the spring in
Step, bounce in heel, remember to
Breath easy, for tomorrow will come
Come what may, be happy
Right here, right now
Today, for forever tomorrow’s will
Come and go, with no real break
In the flow, and all we are left with
Is what and who we know, so
Cherish each other, for there is
No promise of tomorrow’s light,
Enjoy the sunshine now, today,
You know it feels right, smile and
Share your warmth come what may,
Before forever tomorrow’s come
To stay.

time and again

‘It’ happened again, grabbed
By the backlit eyes, blaring
Golden humanity, smiling bright
From behind guarded eyes, she
Smiled, whole face lighting up
With life’s love and breathe,
Filling my chest with joy, breathe
Of fresh air, gust of sea breeze
Blowing cobwebs of listless
Tenderly cultivated stillness out
The window, breathing in fresh
Sunlight and air.

To laugh, unashamedly, great dorky
Guffaws of selfless me, bursting
Forth, as if I did not mind what others
Thought, indeed I did not, for I was
Am happy, momentary smiles
Broadening into full-blown central
Heating glow, as if for the first time
That breathe of fresh salt air, scoring
Deep lines of breakage joyfully across
What I thought were permanent
Walls, self-protection disintegrating
Melting like sand before the waves,
Yet still remains the calm, as if
This were the most natural
Of all states, just so, the way it was
Meant to be, just general good feeling
And me.

Time will only tell, whether this
Is false pretence, the lost lonely
Boy grasping like a drowning soul
At a life raft promise of happiness,
Yet even as I write these
Last few lines, I know it to be untrue,
This may not be the end of the world,
Yet it is the beginning of something.

If being on my own two
Feet has taught me anything, it is
This, that we are what we have been, we
Breathe air in that once cycled through
Our own internals, we make this
Life what it is.

Whether this is truth for all,
Or just truth for one, for me, I
Cannot tell. Yet it is true, for now
For me.

Welcome back happiness, may you
Stay a while, rest your warmth against
My breast, breathe your sweet honeysuckle
Breeze across my chin, brush my cheek
With life-thrilling tenderness,
Tell me all will be well. I
Am a little older, a little bit
Wiser, a few more scars, bumps
And bruises, yet I am still me.

Rest your head, happiness,
Against my soul-home, and whisper
Sweet nothings in my ear. May it be
Transient, this still is,
This is still.

Welcome home happy thoughts,
Internal smiles will always be
Welcome.

We’ve only just begun…

Killer Application novel update…

…from the first set of feedback I received on my novel, I realised that I had some major rewriting to do.

In other words, I was going to have to buck up and blood myself as an ‘author’ by doing a serious rewrite of my novel, pretty much from start to finish.

I think it was more difficult to accept that what I had been doing for the past few weeks up until this ‘revelation’ was mere dabbling, rather than proper rewriting.

Yet when the pieces that needed some attention were pointed out to me and the repercussions in how much work was still required before this piece of writing could be taken to the next level, i.e. professional ‘2nd draft’ editing, I had to swallow some semi-sweet pills regarding my writing style, including the banks of snow I had plowed right up across my own driveway (in some cases).

Basically, this was a wake-up call.  So I sat down on Saturday and started to put together a proper outline of what I thought the story was, where it was going, who the main characters were and all that jazz.

You’d think, after writing more than 500 pages or nearly 170,000 words, I would know all of this off the top of my head…and you’d be right – I did.  What I did not realise is how much ‘tweaking’ (read ‘major overhaul’) I had to do to bring the story back on track.

I think the major issue is that I knew in my head all of the missing gaps – I had been living with this story for so long that I presumed anyone reading it would know it as well as I.  Then in midst of my outline writing and drafting of character and plot and subplot details, I realised in a ‘Eureka’ moment, that I did not have to sacrifice what I was writing.

In fact, I had to admit to myself that I had ‘chickened out’ of the original underlying subplot I had thought of writing in the original storyline.  I had ‘chickened out’ by justifying that it was too much to put into one story – it would meander and get lost in details.  It would take too long to play out.  It would not be interesting enough to everyone.

In rejigging my original idea to fit what I thought would be a broader audience I had sufficiently transferred what (I think) is a good idea into something that had to be padded to make sense (and even then was trying ‘too hard’ at times, and ‘not hard enough’ at other times).

In other words, in 500 pages I had written the skeleton of the story with some padding that I thought made sense.  Going back to it now, I have to strip almost all of the fat (tasty bits) away and get to the gristle, muscle, tendon, ligaments, bone…the gruesome guts of the story and build out from there.

Maybe this is the experience that all writers have, I would not know.  In the blogs, books and articles I have read writers talk about how they ‘got there’ (made it into a deal with an agent or publisher) or how they ‘got their idea’ (the basis for their story) or ‘the journey’ (the whole or any part of the start-to-end journey of their publishing life).

All of these are extremely useful, but I guess trying to explain the ‘Doh!’ realisation of what ‘rewriting’ truly means (the ‘blooding’ of an author) is like trying to explain what it is like being a parent…to someone who does not have any kids.

This is not something that is easy to explain, aside from picturing the growth and maturity of a writer into an author.

  • Imagine that writing the full novel is an author’s childhood, full of wide-open vistas and bright-eyed wonderment.
  • Then editing the novel is puberty, where I know what I am doing, I know I what I want out of the story.  I just need to massage it out.  The form is there, I just need to kneed the shape of the loaf, chip the remainder of the sculpture, colour in the rest of the painting, before I get to the final finished 2nd draft product.
  • Finally the birth of adulthood comes when I realise that the novel is not actually ready for ‘editing’.  The novel is awaiting the ‘breath of real life’, the rewrite.

Now, this probably all seems a bit coy or simplistic, and of course it is.  Trying to describe the growth of the writer to author-hood (child to adult-hood) is like trying to explain the psychological alteration of going from individual to parent.  There is no way to describe it aside from ‘it is’.

I also have to admit that I am in the middle of the transformation.  I believe I am on the cusp of the writer-to-author teenage-hood, where I have realised there is more to rewriting than editing, that first I must rewrite my story to make it stronger, to make it worth reading, to make it the best it could possibly be.

Yet even being here is not disheartening in the slightest.  I am excited by the journey as much as by the end result.  I am as intrigued and interested by my own development as an author as by the novel I am writing (or any of the poetry or prose that I may work on now or in the near future).

I say, “Bring it on!”

So what if it takes another six months to get to first draft status (again).

So what if it takes a further six months to get to second draft status (for the first time).

What matters is the journey, the experience, the growth and the end result.  It all matters.

Now I just have to stay focused.

I know in my heart of hearts that it will definitely be worth the trip.

What a great experience to have, to grow up a second time doing what I love to do.

In the meantime I will continue to self-publish more free ebooks of poetry, short stories, essays, quotes, rants and other bits en route – watch this space!

“In there always pitchin’ and sometime’s bitchin'” as my Gamp used to say.

Life’s gonna throw curveballs – you have two choices, swing or get out of the way.

What happens after you decide how to react is down to dumb luck.

Taking the outcome personally is not only grossly egocentric, it is also fundamentally shortsighted.

How do we know what is coming around the corner?

We only know what we want or what we think is the best for us and others. We never really know what’s right or wrong until it’s already been and gone.

I just hope my hindsight plays out true, that this is the right journey and not too presumptive on my part, seeing as I am only just beginning (cue “We’ve only just begun“).

Let’s see what the next step in this journey brings.

Hopefully the end result is not total pants! 🙂

Until next time – a river dare-chi,

Em (mE)

Site redesigned, ebooks online…time to get back to writing!

I find myself checking my download count for the three poetry books I have published so far, like an expectant gardener watching his crops turn from seedlings into blossoming fruit.

It is difficult not to feel a shade excited by a ‘good’ day of downloads.  The danger is, of course, that I’ll be down in the dumps after no or low downloads.

More interesting, to me at least, is the fact that I need the feedback of people choosing to download my books to feel better about my writing…or do I?

Truth be told, I have probably spent more time mucking about with my blog (thank you Adam for making it look so good…on Monday this week – I’ve probably already wrecked it by putting up ‘halfway’ decent graphics – sorry man!), checking my download count on Smashwords and generally not doing what I should be – which is rewriting my Killer Application book.

It is way too easy to get distracted.  The procrastinator kicks in and tells me all is well – I still have six months to get it into second draft shape.  Yet that is a goal I set so as not to put too much pressure on myself, an arbitrary goal to say the least.  Yet it is counting down towards me and I have lost a bit of traction on the rewriting.  Not a bad thing – distance may give me a better perspective, yet I feel it is not the right time for perspective.  The danger, of course, is slowing down too much…or is it?

I wonder if all artists, writers, creators feel this way.  Maybe this is a common theme – to keep the pace up while not burning all of the energy at once.  It is a hard balance to strike – between sleep and writing.  Seeing as this is only my ‘hobby’ (until I publish Killer App and start to actually ‘sell’ books instead of give them away), I guess I have to take the balanced view.

Oh to be able to spend all of my time writing – what joy, what excitement, what unbelievable bliss!  I envy you, full-time writers, I really do.  I am sure there are issues with it, but as Terry Pratchett once said, “Writing is the most fun anyone can have by themselves.”  It is true.  Nothing I have ever done on my own aside from writing has given me so much joy and satisfaction.

No, this does not count ‘raising children’.  That is not done on your own, even as a single parent like me.  That is done with the child or children – they are as much a part of the ‘raising’ as we parents are.  In fact, I’m pretty sure my daughter raised me as much as I her. 🙂  Thanks Sky!

Anyway, I’ve decided to go away and stop mucking about with my blog, and the store I tried to create, and the ebooks I keep playing around with (oooh oooh ooh, I’ll just waste another three hours placing the new logo my mate Adam created for me for Darker Zeus on my ebooks…and create a new anthology of free stories…NO!  Get back to work!).

Sometimes we have to be the disciplinarian.  I think parenting others (children, people you know, your own parents) is easier than parenting ourselves.

Do they teach classes in ‘parenting yourself’?

Til next time, adios and good luck in all your endeavours!

Em (mE)