I wrote a blog. My first attempt at this post a day malarky. It was about what job I'd like to do. Instead of rehashing my post about rhinos, flying and the job currently doing, I'll talk instead about the fiction writing I did.
Katie Fitch (character in UK tv show Skins) for all the love that I have for her, is a bitch. It's a choice, I think, or perhaps she struggles to handle all of the feelings bubbling inside. In the show she's seen heavily as the bitchy one, but I know her differently and have done since I started writing the other side.
In fact now you're making me want to write a fic about this...best pop off and make some notes before I forget.
Thursday, 3 February 2011
Read: Feb 2nd - The Postmistress
With the recent twists and turns and dramatic moments of this novel, I find myself just as excited about it as the day I bought it. That was most probably a Tuesday. I had a half price voucher from WHSmiths that I didn't hesitate to use.
Unfortunately for my bank balance I got a second voucher for another book that appears to have moments set in the first world war. Then on purchasing said half price book I got a third voucher. So now I've been only a start date away from purchasing a third book.
Where before I didn't plan on buying any, I've now spent the cost of a whole booking on buying one great and one (I hope) is great. We'll see if a third is bought...at least now I'll have plenty to read.
Watch this space...
Unfortunately for my bank balance I got a second voucher for another book that appears to have moments set in the first world war. Then on purchasing said half price book I got a third voucher. So now I've been only a start date away from purchasing a third book.
Where before I didn't plan on buying any, I've now spent the cost of a whole booking on buying one great and one (I hope) is great. We'll see if a third is bought...at least now I'll have plenty to read.
Watch this space...
Wednesday, 2 February 2011
Write: Feb 1st - holiday/blog
I finally found the starting point for my story that I've been struggling over for weeks. I'm glad. I need something that will capture my whole attention again. I don't mind writing one-shots and general short fiction, but I love to become embroiled in the lives I've created.
I also started a new blog, a second blog where I will write about creativity from a more general perspective. It's my hopes of improving my writing and putting myself out into the writing world as a blogger. I also happened to come across a post a day challenge which grabbed my attention.
So look out for it... http://misspegdaily.wordpress.com
I also started a new blog, a second blog where I will write about creativity from a more general perspective. It's my hopes of improving my writing and putting myself out into the writing world as a blogger. I also happened to come across a post a day challenge which grabbed my attention.
So look out for it... http://misspegdaily.wordpress.com
Read: Feb 1st -The Postmistress
The saddest fact of war, of anything, for me, is children losing parents or parents losing children. The Postmistress, being set during the Blitz, was bound to include some form of death and destruction.
But there's something very different between the news reporter, Frankie, talking about people dying and her ending up in a shelter with a little boy from two doors down her own flat. Seeing that tiny snippet of his life was enough to send the shivers through my bones and the tears down my face as Frankie explains the seven year old boy's mother's death. As well as that of her flat mate and fellow reporter Harriet.
My original intention was to talk about how out of place it felt for Frankie to have sex in an alley with a man she doesn't even know the name of. But that seems barely significant with the later events.
But there's something very different between the news reporter, Frankie, talking about people dying and her ending up in a shelter with a little boy from two doors down her own flat. Seeing that tiny snippet of his life was enough to send the shivers through my bones and the tears down my face as Frankie explains the seven year old boy's mother's death. As well as that of her flat mate and fellow reporter Harriet.
My original intention was to talk about how out of place it felt for Frankie to have sex in an alley with a man she doesn't even know the name of. But that seems barely significant with the later events.
Monday, 31 January 2011
Read: Jan 31st - The Postmistress
I returned to my faithful and suitably cheap but highly appropriate book today.
I love it. The more I read, the more I love.
I have a couple of short phrases/words I wanted to highlight for various reasons.
"the brave huzzahs" what a word, huzzah, it's like a celebration yet in this world it's rarely used. When I think of it I imagine Renaissance Fayres like they showed in a few episodes of Gilmore Girls. Talking in olde English and cheering with all the "huzzah!" in the world.
Then there was "present company excepting" useage of that word again, I word I very much enjoy reading and feel like I'm learning well during every eventuality in which it occurs.
I love it. The more I read, the more I love.
I have a couple of short phrases/words I wanted to highlight for various reasons.
"the brave huzzahs" what a word, huzzah, it's like a celebration yet in this world it's rarely used. When I think of it I imagine Renaissance Fayres like they showed in a few episodes of Gilmore Girls. Talking in olde English and cheering with all the "huzzah!" in the world.
Then there was "present company excepting" useage of that word again, I word I very much enjoy reading and feel like I'm learning well during every eventuality in which it occurs.
Write: Jan 31st - One Month gone
I stepped into 2011 with an intention to read and write every day, one month down the line and my intentions haven't changed, nor have my ability to do what I hoped to.
Day 31, another day another piece of writing. This time a random short piece about walking...
- She walked, put one foot in front of the other along the dirt track until the stark moorland appeared along with an intensely cold breeze. Her feet ached like worn out muscles after the Great North Run. She'd never been athletic, had ended up with regular trouble from her right ankle after breaking it in a school sports day. They assumed because she was tall and thin that she could run, she begged to differ. The asthma excepting she had poorly developed muscles and little interest in speeding along. What need was there for going at several miles per hour when she could opt for a brisk stroll? -
Day 31, another day another piece of writing. This time a random short piece about walking...
- She walked, put one foot in front of the other along the dirt track until the stark moorland appeared along with an intensely cold breeze. Her feet ached like worn out muscles after the Great North Run. She'd never been athletic, had ended up with regular trouble from her right ankle after breaking it in a school sports day. They assumed because she was tall and thin that she could run, she begged to differ. The asthma excepting she had poorly developed muscles and little interest in speeding along. What need was there for going at several miles per hour when she could opt for a brisk stroll? -
Sunday, 30 January 2011
Write: Jan 30th
I began writing a little more for my holiday story, there's not a lot to be said about it really. It's not nearly ready to be written properly, let alone read!
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