The waiting game

My partner has said on more than one occasion that she would hate to be inside my head. Frankly, I don’t blame her.

I find it incredibly difficult to properly relax. I used to think that this was normal, that everyone felt this way, but apparently, this is not true. Go figure.

Take this time right now, the fallow period, if you will. My precious gem of a book baby, Anti-Virus, is with my much-valued ARC readers. I am giving them time to read it, at their own pace. Because we all have lives and commitments, the summer is basically theirs. There isn’t a great deal for me to do for the next couple of months.

My brain is making me feel guilty. For not doing something. God knows, I have no idea what that nebulous something is, but it’s poking at me very regularly for not ‘working’. As if a demanding day job isn’t enough.

‘Do more.’

‘DO MORE.’

‘DO MORE.’

DO MORE.’

I have a small list of things I will need/would like to do before publishing, but it’s small and manageable and…

I DON’T NEED TO DO THEM NOW!

As you can imagine, that only pacifies my brain (which is behaving like a demanding two year old to be fair) for a short while.

I do have a draft of a fantasy novel that is the first in a trilogy (this is how I have always envisaged it). So I’ve printed it out and am about half way through reading it. I’m quite impressed by past Freya. She had some good plot and characterisation going on. It’s definitely got legs. Will it be a trilogy? Do I have the ability to commit to that?

Time will tell.

Pssst… time’s running out! Better get on with it NOW!

Oh, good grief…

Grounded – dVerse

photo(1)

nailers, brewers and
butchers; artists, hoofers and
railway platemakers

Titanic, double-
booked, third class overflowing
what a stroke of luck!

photo

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This week, on dVerse Poetics, Grace has asked us to delve into our family history – what makes us, where have we come from, who are our ancestors? As I get older, as life changes, I feel more of an urge to answer these questions. Recently I spent a lovely long weekend with my family up in Worcestershire, investigating old photos and luxuriating in tales of what happened way back when. This knowledge is to be treasured, no?

I have decided to be short and sweet this week. Two haiku-form stanzas and two photos – one of me as a little girl, and one of my scribbles during a quick coffee break. You’ll see the second stanza didn’t really sit well with me… hence it got the chop. Ancestors in both my mum’s family and in my step-dad’s family almost made it on to the Titanic… strange, but true!

 

 

Mixed Messages – dVerse

once, they said we could have it all –
the partner, the career, the children
we could be superwomen all day long
immaculate, capable, professional
the mother, the lover, the corporate boss
all superlatively and effortlessly achieved
the house, the car, the long-haul holidays
yes, once, they said, we could have it all

and then, and then
we were vilified for wanting a career, and
for wanting to leave our babies at nurseries, and
for making someone else prepare the dinner, and
we were penalised at work, we were penalised at home
whatever we did – we were wrong
the back-slapping testosterone board-room, boar-boorish doors were closed
the mothers at the school-gates-club
raised their collective eyebrows at parents’ evenings
as the strange apparition of the ‘career woman’ made her appearance

and then, and then
the childless, the husband(or wife)less
were dragged through the biting, back-biting, tight-lippedness
un-natural, bitch-in-the-boardroom, frigid, husk treatment
damned if you do what they want
damned if you don’t
damned every which way but young, blond, legs-up-to-here and easy to please
we are our own worst enemies, and
we listen too much to the media, and
to the politicians (who listen too much to the media)
we listen too much to our inner bitch voice
you know the one, the friend who nobody wants
can we turn her off?
only if we work harder than was ever expected
of the mother-lover-corporate boss –
only if.

Mixed Messages

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It’s that time of the month, the last Saturday, where us poets can leave whatever type of poetry we like at the dVerse bar – yes, it’s Open Link Night! Tonight, Mary is our congenial barkeep – her first time on OLN, so be kind, don’t wave money in her face to get her attention or reel off a long list of drinks. All in good time!

This piece of mine was something I was working on for submission to an anthology, but I decided to go with something else instead which was more fitting. I only half-finished this poem, so this has been buffed up a bit and chopped around. As is common with my work right now, it’s a little political! I obviously have issues I need to get off my chest.

Please pop over to dVerse to see what varigated delights await you. No two poems will be the same, that’s for sure. Happy reading, all.