"Far away,
knowing my life is incomplete
'til the day, my dream will belong to me."

Quiet Words Given Voice
by John Kirk

Unwell

Have been ill since last Tuesday though it didn't really kick in until Thursday. It's Sunday now and still have no energy. Funny, that with illness you get some sort of clarity about things.
Too tired to argue who's more ill, the worst off, whether it's worth the effort to wonder what things would be like if you were with someone else, living somewhere else, doing other things, about things we don't have, what we are doing.
Limbs are just too heavy to be raised, the mind too full to have thoughts, the senses too dulled to act.
And maybe that's best. Stay still, let the storm pass and then re-emerge and then put one foot in front of the other, do what's to be done and don't wonder too much, there is too much to do right here.

The Monster Belt

Chapter One
The village of Hawksmoor overlooked a stretch of green water called The Mere. As a child, Jess Swift had been indoctrinated about the legendary creature that supposedly lurked in its hazy depths, but she did't believe it existed. Adamant that there were no such things as monsters, she told herself that although the Mere was not a place she wanted to swim in, nor was it a place to fear.
Now grown up, she still liked to sit on the hill and gaze down on the small lake as she had done as a child. Now though, she made sure she never looked past it, further down the hill, to the hollow of ground with a large barn-like hotel at its centre.
The grass grew to seed on the hill, stroking her bare legs and caressing her cheeks when she lay down. She stretched out, listening to lapwings and giving herself up to the touch of air and grass. She had never been tempted to step into the deserted rowing boat by the unused boathouse and untie the rope, take up the oars and push out towards the centre of mossy water. She never wanted to dip in her fingers and see whether it was as cold as they said. The indoor pool five miles away in Littleton had put her off swimming and nothing would tempt her to try it again. The cubicles were too small, wooden seats always wet and if, struggling to undress in the cramped space, she inadvertently touched the plastic curtain, it clung to her back like a sheet of freshly pasted wallpaper.
And then the walk, almost naked, towards the fully clothed attendant who took her jeans and trainers and sweatshirt in exchange for a well worn, numbered rubber band that was always either too loose it fell off or so tight it pinched. Cold feet on a wet floor. Goose pimpled skin. Bouncing sound. Exposure.

THE chapter!

This is hard. I've reached the difficult chapter in Monster Belt when Jess has to face her monster. It's bringing up all sorts of stuff, but we mustn't let our past affect our present, right? I've got to be honest in the writing, but I need to keep balance too, a handle on the emotion or it's out of control. But keep the rawness.
Funny how writing can make us live.

Dancing

Ah. Juba rehearsal last night and we danced full out. Now I know why I've not been feeling right, haven't danced like that since early December. I feel so much better, mentally and physically. The drums, rhythms, dance, companionship. Hit the spot.

How do you stop your brain from thinking and your heart from feeling? Besides being dead. Or is that being dead? Living dead. Do I wish I was a zombie? No. Funny how you go round in circles. What's that called? How do you stop yourself doing that?
Maybe space and time to think things through deeply, clearly, get perspective. I know that's what would work best, but I want to be writing..I'm talking riddles to you I know, but I know what I'm talking about.
I have other commitments, personal commitments, but what I want is not to do them but to write...but is that fair when that commitment is another human being?
Still riddles. Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I worked in an office or hospital or anywhere where I didn't feel guilty about what I'm not doing. A rant. Put it away.

Advice...

I remember, if you didn't always have a wide, Cheshire cat grin on your face, the bus driver who drove us to school in the mornings saying,
'Cheer up.'


It's like being told to 'chill.'

And being told to 'be patient.'

What do you think I'm being????

Valentine's Day

First verse of a poem. Thought it was sort of suitable for Valentine's Day.

'I'm not in your enlightened place
That puts attachment at the end of the list.
To love in that wider sense,
That Buddhists hold dear,
Alludes my grasp at present.'


Another two verses here....about attachment and suffering, the one and the many...how it'll be if no-one loves another exclusively and love is universal and the same between all, what will this world be like....maybe more verses.

'But one day, I, like you
Perhaps will see mankind as my greatest love
And spread my wings and thoughts over all.
But now, for now, have patience
That I will balance love between the two.'

Mm. First draft methinks. And then of course, the other verses.

Friday afternoon

My mum had been in the house a few hours.
'You should brush your hair.'
'Is there nothing nice you could say about me?'
Silence.
'Well, if there's nothing nice, maybe don't say anything at all.'
Silence.
'You make nice buns.'
'Thank you.'
'And icing.'

Amazon and publishing

So much being written about companies not stocking books that are on/published by Amazon. What's an author to do? It feels like old boy's clubs are being erected - if we deign to publish you, or you're published by people we like, we'll give you entrance... I can understand the fury that Amazon is taking away everything, but really, it is up to people to choose, not the publishers, especially when there are so many books they refuse to publish, good books.
As a reader, I want choice, not the same old same old publishers keep publishing. As a writer, I want to be published. And I'll go, unfortunately perhaps, but I'll go with who will publish me, retain my rights, and hopefully, be read.

Getting there

Chapter 29, page 202 of Monster Belt. 77,561 words total. I've written the whole novel but am editing and building and digging and increasing the word count and drawing out the story and changing the slant and...keep going.
Jess has decided to leave London and the job she thought she always wanted. For what? A different kind of life. It needs to be a bigger, scarier decision than I've made it. She's given up a career, the one she's worked towards, of course it's a massive decision. Or is it? When we have that bolt of insight, is it then quite easy because it seems the only road possible?
Have to project doubt without her appearing weak. My heroines tend to have dilemmas and hang ups, but they must also show their strength. And she's got the biggest monster of all to face soon.
Right. Do it.

The Monster Belt

I struggled yesterday with chapters 26 and 27. Lying in the bath, sometimes the best place for ideas, mainly because you can't write them down, I realised the problem. The main characters, Jess and Harris are separated here, one chapter each. At this stage in the book, they may be separate, but the reader must be shouting, 'YOU SHOULD BE TOGETHER!!' so in each chapter, they need to be juxtaposed.
Also, the London scenes aren't working. It's getting there with changing the focus, but I need Judith (Jess's cousin, who she's staying with) to point out a few home truths. This will be the first time that someone says out loud that they think Jess is screwed up. And this will give the impetus for Jess to make a move.
Ta-ra! Thinking time. That's all it takes.