Monday, 22 January 2018


Well, never a truer word spoken. Or so many people say. Of course time does pass and it does seem to fly, meaning in essence that time moves at a faster pace than we humans can move..whether walking or running. However, it is not time itself that is to to blame for this sense of life racing by. Not even debating what science has to say about time and relativity, it is humans that make time relative to what they want to fit into it. How often words are used to alleviate the guilt of not doing what should be done, for the comfort of others as well as for the well being of the self. "Ï never have time to visit Auntie Jane." Ï never have time to read novels, even the good ones my best friend writes." Ï don't have time to sit by a river and just think." It is really how we use the time we are given on earth that makes the difference to how we feel about its passage. Naturally the majority of adults have to use up a lot of their time just earning a living. The lucky ones doing work they love, or at least enjoy. Others having to fill in time doing what they hate, or at least do not prefer. This difference may be caused by how time was spent in early life, either in working hard at gaining a good education, or formulating other plans or simply by just hanging out...letting tomorrow take care of itself.

Once we are adults we are, in effect, in charge of our own time. We can plan it to give ourselves the best chance of doing what we want to do, outside of earning a crust. It is not easy and yes mistakes are allowed to be made. My mistake was in not realising early enough in life that I was a pretty good writer. I should  have spent more time not only in exercising the craft but in convincing others, publishers etc, how good I was, or at least, would become. The blame can be placed at many things but it comes down to individual choice. Those who are fortunate to have mentors or guides do get a leg up but it still boils down to how we use time ourself. 

So, I could add that I meant to write this blog two weeks ago but other stuff got in the way. I just haven't had time. But it is my fault alone that stopped me from sitting down and writing as I am now.  It has taken a is mere 40 minutes of my time, doing what I love to do and hopefully sharing it with  those who take the time to read this and my previous blogs. Probably an hour of your time. Nothing really, out of the 168 hours a week we are all blessed with.

So please red and leave a comment on this page. Put in your email address to learn more of how my next book is progressing. It will be great to read your thoughts about anything I have written ever since I set up this blog some time ago. 😚

Tuesday, 2 January 2018


One of my favourite Bee Gee's songs is 'It's only Words'.Not even sure if this is the actual title but the lyrics say so much. I was recently reminded of how easily only words can be misrepresented when it is only the words that are heard and not within any sort of representative context or even without  knowledge what kind of a person is delivering them.

I was at a cafe with a friend and we were bantering away as per usual without any thought to who could hear us. As usual I was doing  most of the bantering. Being known for my satirical commentary on things in particular and life  in general (some would say facetious commentary) I quite openly spoke of the long wait for coffee, of the large belly of the manager who seemed to glare at the cash register and yet grin at the coffee machine, of the vast number of greasy chips customers were being plied with and of the idiot who ordered the wrong item.It was all said tongue in cheek, my face straight, my eyes twinkling, my mind whistling.  The person I was with knows this is how I am. Nothing is meant to hurt or upset. I am careful to be respectful when it is required.

However, sitting at another table a rather sombre couple were clearly hearing every word I said and were taking it for real. They sat stony faced as they peered in my direction. Obviously to them I was little more than a noisy, grumpy, bitch, for speaking in a manner that was supposedly meant to offend. I smiled back, not fully realising until later why they were sending me their silent stares. Naturally they had no idea of my personality, of my kind of humour, of the person I am. In otherwise, they were hearing only harmless words that were totally out of context.

From a writer's point of view it is great to hear words spoken by anyone, in any manner, because words are grist for the mill. Words give the writer freedom to let the imagination fly and to conjure up a story around what is said, without requiring any accurate reference to the speaker or the context.  Yet, it dawned on me that day, how harmful words could become if misunderstood. I began to think about  how easily problems arise, how a fracas evolves, indeed, how wars can be started. Misunderstanding comes mainly from just hearing and/or saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. All very illuminating.

Of course, to a degree I've comprehended this since High School. Yet now and again it is good to reassess what it is you know, what you think you know and to think perhaps more carefully before speaking,  especially in public. It is only words but words are all I have to take your heart away...or, perhaps, to sadly💗 hurt it forever.
"Think on, lass," as my grandmother used to say.