Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word - WoTW

(Sorry adj: 1) Feeling or expressing sympathy, pity, or regret: I'm sorry I'm late 2) Worthless or inferior; paltry: a sorry excuse.3. Causing sorrow, grief, or misfortune; grievous: a sorry development. Ety: O.E. sarig "distressed, full of sorrow," from W.Gmc. *sairig-, from *sairaz "pain")

When you've not blogged for over a month and hoped that no one has noticed, it seems to me to be a good idea to use someone else's words with which to apologise and nattily, title your post. In this case I have used Elton John's words. I apologise also for any earworms that may now arise from this misfortunate usage of the lyrics.

So anyway, I'm sorry dearest readers, for being utterly crap at blogging and not really worthy of the name "blogger" atm

I don't even have the incredibly worthwhile excuse of Nanowrimo busy-ness. I wimped out of that in the first week, even though I loved my idea (vampire novel, set in london, bit of a modern day spin yadda yadda). I went through various ideas for Nano. Including wondering how I could structure a novel in which WW3 started from a single tweet. That might sound laughable but given everything that's happened so far this year politically, it might not be that far away. 

Anyway, back to the apology. I don't have a decent excuse for not blogging other than at first, I was a bit busy with various other things. And then as time went on I felt too awkward to blog again - a bit like when you've had a row with someone but left it just that bit too long to apologise. And then worst of all, I didn't feel like blogging. Which is a bit like me saying like I don't feel like some cake - it was something I never thought I'd say.

To be very honest, I have been feeling a bit blue and black dog-ish. Fracturing my ankle in August really had a bigger impact than I thought - and shows why it is so important to do regular exercise. As a result of the fracture I haven't been able to climb for 3 months - so no exercise, no socialising with climbing buddies, spending less time with husbando (my regular climbing partner) and generally feeling a bit sorry for myself.

It wasn't until last weekend - my first climbing session since the ankle-debacle - that I realised just how much I'd missed climbing. It's like I'd gotten my mojo back (yes, I'm a walking cliche). I nearly kissed the climbing wall. But that would have been dusty and grim - and a bit weird too.

So now, in time for Xmas like a special slightly odd present you weren't expecting and don't really know how to react to appropriately, I'm back. You might have to bear with me a bit, the writing might be a bit scratchy, the lists might be a bit shorter, but I'm back and I'm blogging again. I hope that you'll forgive me and stick with me. A bit like that mangy, moth eaten teddy from when you were a kid - it's not perfect but you don't love it any the less, but sometimes you carry it by the ear, just to show it who's boss. 

Wait, I don't know where i was going with that analogy. To sum up, sorry for being crap, I'm back now. Bear with me as I try to resume normal service. The end.

Thank you and good night.

Stupidgirl has left the building

PS How *are* you all? Any news? Any gossip? Read any good books? Eaten any good cake?

Switching Round - Word of the Week

(Perception n: becoming aware of something/The process, act, or faculty of perceiving. Ety: late 15c., "receiving, collection," from L. perceptionem Meaning "intuitive or direct recognition of some innate quality" is from 1827)

Okay, I'm about halfway up a rock face. The ground is approx 12-15 metres below me and I've got around another 6-8 metres to climb. After that climb I have to abseil half way down to a small ledge and wait for husbando to join me. Then I have to use various gadgets to pull down the rope, re-attach it to me, husbando and the rock and then abseil down again. But in the meantime, there's those remaining metres of rock to climb.

Graded at around a 3/4 in the book - well within my capability - the climb is closer to a 5+, something I've just mastered climbing inside, without the added complexity of more than one pitch and knowing I've got to abseil down after. The foot and hand holds are tiny pinches mainly, and my nails (and nerves) are shredded. Although you can can't see my face, I'm crying and tearfully sniffling my way up, inch by inch. After what seems like several millennia, I finish the climb and make it to the ledge husbando is on.

"Well done!" he beams at me. I am not impressed "That was so fucking scary" I am snivelling but he insists on taking a picture. "Didn't you see me crying?"

"What?! No, I didn't. You climbed that really well. There was a lady at the bottom taking pictures of you all the way up, seriously."

I think my facial expression reads WTVF. "Are you sure? Wasn't she taking pictures of the kids?" There are a bunch of them below me, climbing at what I am sure is at vastly higher grade and with a great deal less fuss.

"No, she was taking pictures of YOU because YOU climb really well".

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Huh, even several weeks later, now, my brain is just starting to compute this. Right, it says to me, you think that you're crap and you were crying, but some lady, who couldn't see your face, thought that you climb well and took pictures to prove it. Is this what perception is all about? 

Thank You - Word of the Week

(Gratitude n: A feeling of thankfulness or appreciation, as for gifts or favours. Ety: Middle English, from Old French, probably from Late Latin gratitudo, from Latin gratus, pleasing; from Indo-European roots)

This post was inspired by a friend, the lovely @tillyguernsey. There was quite a bit of sad news last weekend - what with the atrocity in Norway and the untimely death of Amy Winehouse (thanks Mum for texting me this news when I was rock climbing in the middle of nowhere...) and sometimes life can feel very much `there but for the grace of god` and I think it's really important to remind ourselves of what we've got that keeps us going even when times get tough. I've had a tough few months but things are really turning the corner - I've got a very exciting new job in social media, I had an awesome 30th bday, it was my 2nd wedding anniversary etc.

So here are a few things I am grateful for (yes, I know it's not list day)

1) My long suffering husband. He puts up with all my ranty-crazy-messiness all the time. Even (and especially) when I am half way up a rock face. I may not be the politest wife on earth "if it was that fucking easy to put my foot there I'd fucking do it grrrrrrr" but he puts up with it "that's it, you're doing really well". And also, he's championed this blog and bought me my laptop at Christmas speshly so I could pull my finger out and do some of this writing business. So yes, without him, life would be rather less good indeed.

2) My friends. All of you, whether you live in my computer, on my street, in my town or anywhere. I really can't get over how much you do for me. Making me laugh on twitter, sending me unexpected messages, holding my birthday BBQ on a day when it pissed down with rain (that's quite specific, you know who you are). Showing up to my BBQ on said rainy day. Cheering me up. Putting up with my drivel. Understanding my cake obsession (pretty much all my bday cards reference cake in some way. last year they were all shoe based. odd)

3) Social media. I frickin love it. Simples. When I wake up in the middle of the night the people in my computer are there to talk to me. When I can't remember who that flippin actress in the film I'm watching is....when I want to blog/tweet/write/talk/show people stuff. And also, when I want a new job....all solved by social media. Oh and when I'm lonely. It's there. genius stuff. And the cake is calorie free too.

Circus Acts - Word of the Week

(Juggling verb: To keep (more than two activities, for example) in motion or progress at one time. Ety: mid-15c., from O.Fr. jogler, from L.L. joculare (cf. It. giocolare), from L. joculari “to jest”)

This morning I write to you from a very stinky SW London - a water pipe has burst on Brixton Hill and it seems that most of SW London - all the way out to Croydonia is sans water. It is times like this when there are people who are really sensible and keep bottled water etc for such emergencies. Clearly, I am not one of those people - instead I am lying in bed in my pajamas in my duvet blogging. I am also debating when might be the best time to dress my smelly self in clean clothes and after chewing gum in lieu of toothbrushing, head out to the shops in search of bottled water and baby wipes. In fact here is a picture of the reason why I have no water - under that is a road. And no, it's not a burst river, it's a burst water pipe. Crazy huh?

So, a WoTW after a month of no WoTW-ing.....and juggling seemed the most appropriate. I've not written much in that time either, despite much encouragement - I've just not felt like it. Anyway, that's a long-winded way of saying sorry if this post is entirely crap - I'm hoping writing is like riding a bike - you just have to get back in the saddle (fnar). Oh, and hello to all the new followers out there - of which there appear to be a few of you judging by the views in the last few weeks - thanks so much for coming by! If you're wondering WTF WoTW is, check this out

Juggling might not be something that you actively do 'in' your writing, but it's certainly something that we all have to do in our lives and sometimes it seems like it's impossible to keep all the plates spinning without going slightly crazy. Here is what I have juggled in the last 6 weeks:

Going In And Out - Word of the Week

(Style n: a mode of living, as with respect to expense or display. Etym. from L. stilus "stake, instrument for writing, manner of writing, mode of expression," Meaning "mode or fashion of life" is from 1770; that of "mode of dress" is from 1814.")

So, in case you'd not guessed, I'll be turning 30 in July. And this whole, leaving my 20's, officially being a grown up with a job and a mortgage and a husband and broody feelings and a blog and (thinks what else makes me grown up....er, nope, nothing)anyway yes, it made me think about how much I've changed in the last 5, 10, 15, 20 years. And that made me look at a bunch of photos - and I realised how I've kind of, grown into myself  and started to develop my own style a lot.

Style is something that over the years - decades, centuries - is something that appears to be dictated to us. Every single magazine or paper or website or blog sometimes, even, seems to contain the ideas that although, on the one hand, style is something that is intrinsic to a person but yet, on the other, if you buy just the right dress/shirt/shoes/lipstick/perfume you'll be stylish. Or so the marketing gurus would have us believe.

And yes, I do believe there are style icons out there - people who take clothes and wear them in ways, that although they aren't always outlandish and exciting, just carry off something ordinary with a great deal of panache. What they wear, how they look, how they carry themselves becomes their defining style. I can list off the top of my head, several such women - Audrey Hepburn, Coco Chanel, Jackie Kennedy, Ava Gardner, Clara Bow, Cleopatra and so on. Currently, we have Madonna, Lady Gaga, Vivienne Westwood, Erin O'Connor, Liv Tyler, Zooey Deschanel and so on.

The rainbow generation - word of the week

(Diversity n: 1. The state of being diverse; variety. Etym: mid-14c., "quality of being diverse," mostly in a neutral sense, from O.Fr. diversité (12c.) "difference, diversity, unique feature, oddness:" also "wickedness, perversity," from L.diversitatem (nom. diversitas) "contrariety, contradiction, disagreement)

I really struggled to think of WoTW this week. I've been a bit up and down recently - holidays, work, shoulder debacle and also forgot to take my anti-depressants too (norty me) - so a lot of the words I was thinking about, I've already touched on eg: individuality, motivation, integrity. These are all words I come back to, as they help me focus when I feel a bit wobbly. So I think it's time to do something a little less self absorbed - hence today's word.

Firstly, let me clarify what I mean by diversity - generally I mean accepting and being as open as possible in all ways to people from all walks of life. The Equality Act in the UK has 9 strands of diversity including gender, sexuality, race, religion and disability. I want to make sure that my attitudes, my life and my outlook are as inclusive and open to diversity as possible. In some ways this blog is great for that - I have *no* idea about majority of the readers of this blog - if you actively follow me/the blog I can see some of those strands but for most of you I don't know. Which is great!

So I think you can tell, diversity is a subject close to my heart - I work to encourage diversity at work  and so I'm passionate about it. I feel that in some ways, I tick a lot of the boxes in diversity:

- female (gender)

- jewish (religion)

- deaf (disability)

But I am also:

- white

- middle class

- privately educated

So internally, I often feel a lot of conflict around diversity. I may be passionate about it, but how often can I show that (outside of work)? I grew up in a predominantly white, middle-class, affluent area. And yet I now live 5-6 miles away from there in an area of London that is predominately made up of ethnic minorities who do not all have the upbringing that I had. I have chosen to live somewhere different, because oddly, I feel that I fit in! If everyone is different, there is no need to conform - individuality is to be celebrated here - as anyone who has been to Brixton will testify.

Those who *can*, teach - Word of the Week

(Teacher n:  one who teaches, Etym: from `Teach` to show, point out," also "to give instruction," from PreGermanic. *taikijanan cf. Old High German. zihan, Ger. zeihen "to accuse," Goth. ga-teihan "to announce")


So, er, this post is going to be a little bit dedicated to my husband. And to all the people who teach us - not just in school - but anywhere in life.


Last week, when I was (ahem) rock climbing in Dorset, it occurred to me how miraculous it was that I was, in fact, 18 metres above the sea, attached to a rope, balancing on the corner of a cliff edge with just my hands and feet. How on earth had husbando persuaded me to do this I wondered? 


And I wondered it again when I was 10 metres up another (seemingly) sheer cliff face. And again when we were on a 1 foot wide scrabbly, rocky, stinging nettle-y path with a drop down to the sea on one side. And also when I tripped over and pricked my finger on a bramble bush and might have burst into tears.


And then I realised how bloody amazing it was that I was doing all these amazing, cool, challenging things that I never, in a million years, thought I would ever be able to do. Especially given that I am terrified of heights. And bugs, and generally beings more than 2 mins from hot and cold running shops/coffee/water/civilisation.


So it got me thinking about how I've been able to do all this and who taught me to have the strength to do it. I know I've bl0gged about motivation before, but this post is more about the people or books or movies or songs or other things that have taught you do things you never thought you could do.


For example with the climbing and also writing, husbando has taught me, weirdly, to trust. He has taught me to trust him, that he won't leave me alone when I'm scared or give up on me when I've given up on me. He won't laugh at me when I look like an idiot or fuss about peeing outside. He didn't get cross when I had a full on tantrum half way up a rock face and called him an asshole He just stuck in there for the long run. 


It might sound sappy or naff but he's taught me what it means to love and trust someone - leading by example I guess. No matter how many times I want to give up my writing or climbing, he always tells me that I can do it, he has this unwavering belief in me. It's incredibly powerful. He's teaching me to believe in myself and my abilities - but also about loyalty and perseverance. 


It's not just husbando who's taught me these things - I don't have the space to list all the lovely people (internet weirdies some of them) who have held my hand and taught me to believe in myself - but I think it's important to take the time to remind ourselves of these lessons that are learned outside of the classroom. Some of these lessons are invaluable when it comes to new ventures - whether it be writing, blogging, climbing, creating, working etc


I guess the biggest lessons I have learnt, therefore, when it comes to challenging myself are:

• Trust: in yourself and what you are doing
• Honesty: own what you do, whether it's good or bad, it's still yours, who is anyone else to judge
• Love: if you don't love it, why are you doing it? Remember though, that the line between love and hate can be fine sometimes! But if it puts a fire in your belly, you should keep going.
• Humility: you're not perfect and you're not going to get it right all the time. So what!
• Kindness: go easy on yourself, sometimes there are no rules or guidance, sometimes there's too much guidance and you just have to figure it out for yourself.
• Belief: it'll be okay - it's not brain surgery after all!

So, who are your teachers? What have you learnt from them? And are you reminding yourself of these informal lessons when you need them - you might be surprised by how comforting these can be on dark days. Here's to all our teachers, whoever and wherever they might be. And specially to my husbando, he's a bit of a star :)

Thank you and goodnight

Stupidgirl has left the building

PS I wrote this blog listening to the Juno soundtrack. It's lovely and I highly recommend it :)


PPS I have refrained from taking the medication for my muscle spasm until I have finished this blog post, after last night's debacle! You may be amused to know that last night I forgot the word `serious` and laughed like a drain when reminded of it. I also laughed hysterically at pretty much everything everyone said. In the morning I had much embarrassment. DRUGS ARE BAD KIDS.

More Carrot, Less Stick - Word of the Week

(Achievement n: Something accomplished successfully, especially by means of exertion, skill, practice, or perseverance. Ety: noun of action from O.Fr. achever early 14c.,  "to finish, accomplish, complete," from phrase à chef (venir) "at an end, finished")


You know what? I think that we, as writers, bloggers or generally as PEOPLE, do not blow our own trumpets enough and share our achievements with others. Over all the previous Word-of-The-Weeks (WoTWs) I've talked a lot about learning and growing and developing, not just as a writer (well, my journey as, er, a writer/blogette type person) but I don't think I've really posted enough about just `owning` what you do. And no matter how big or how small, if it's an achievement to you then it should be celebrated - and that's what this week's WoTW is all about.


First of all, I want all of you, every single person reading this blog to give themselves a pat on the back (or if that's too hard, have a bit of chocklit, that's good too). I want to you to do that to say thank you because the first thing we are celebrating, in the name of achievement is that this week, we passed 10k views of this blog since January. Yes, wow, yikes etc - more than 10 thousand individual views of this blog (and not all of them were me or my mum). So big THANKS  to all of you who read this blog, who comment, who say lovely things to me on Facebook/Twitter etc etc, it is so very appreciated and I could not have done it without you. I'm not sure where this blog is headed or what the end purpose is yet, but I think that 10k views in 3.5 months is not to be sneezed at and I have so loved blogging - so all you guys are kind of, holding my hand, encouraging me to continue. That to believe that just maybe, I can write for some kind of audience. So keep on with that pat on the back/chocklit eating - pretend it's from ME!


Secondly, achievement - as I said, nothing is too big or too small. I think we spend far too much time beating ourselves up and stressing about things, and forget that sometimes, on bad days, even getting out of bed is an achievement. In fact, depending on my mood, all of the following can be achievements for me:

• Getting out of bed
• Looking at people when I'm wearing my glasses (can't bear to do this because I think I'm so ugly I don't want them to see)
• Making it to the top of the climbing wall
• Blogging
• Pitching to clients
• Running for ONE MORE FUCKING MINUTE (past 5 minutes...!)
• Not having Maccie D's for lunch
• Scrambling down to the crag when climbing (this can be scarier than climbing)
• Killing spiders
• Sleeping when I'm home alone

So if you've done anything today that involved confronting a fear, doing something you didn't want to do, doing something nice, writing, blogging, creating and just generally being you and being fab, I want you to take the next 5 minutes and just celebrate that. Be happy, you rock. 

Finally, please make sure that every day, you just take time to think okay, you know what, I'm not so bad, in fact, I'm doing pretty well at this - whatever it is that `this` for you is - being it writing, climbing, creating - even just living. I definitely don't do this enough - and I'm not saying we should all be big headed - but sometimes you can beat yourself up when instead you need to be your inner cheerleader (especially if she looks like Santana or Brittany from Glee).

And that's all for this week's WoTW - just a short one as I am soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo tired after doing lots of climbing on real rock including an 18 metre sea cliff climb (check this out for a pic - tho it's not me in the pic). Hope it was okay - let me know your thoughts below, as ever :)

Thank you and goodnight

Stupidgirl has left the building

A Bumper List Post - 30 Day Song Challenge

Okay so this is a list (30 songs) and a WoTW (music) and a general ramble post all rolled into one. Which is to apologise for the serious lack of blogging over the last few days - bloody real life got in the way. And that little thing called work - gah! 

Anyway I hope you lovely folks out there - and in fact all over the world - are well. Special hello to the lovely people who follow this blog in Israel, Japan, UAE, South Korea + India. Am honoured that you like my ramblings!

So here it is, my 30 day song challenge post. In case you don't have a bloody clue what I'm on about, I think you'll find it's pretty self explanatory. Each day last month I had to pick a specific song that reminded me of something. If you're finding this explanation as clear as mud, just read on.....

WARNING - this is a long post....

Thirty Day Song Challenge:

Day 01 - My Favorite Song: U2 - Where The Streets Have No Name. Just so beautiful. I love it so very much.If you watch the vid, the song starts around 2:30 in.

Day 02 - My Least Favorite Song: All Saints cover of Under the Bridge. Just. So.Wrong.

Day 03 - A Song That Makes Me Happy: Guns'n'Roses - Sweet Child of Mine. As I have blogged before, this song is fucking awesome. It just is. And I think Axl's fit. Sorry about that!

Day 04 - A Song That Makes You Sad: Corinne Bailey Rae – Just Like A Star. This song makes me tear up a lot. It reminds me of when my grandmother died after being ill with cancer. It's such a beautiful song and the lyrics are very poignant.

Day 05 - A Song That Reminds Me of Someone: Bonnie Tyler - Total Eclipse of the Heart. This reminds me of several someones but speshly the Wine Wharf ladies, you know who you are!

Day 06 - A Song That Reminds You of Somewhere: Richard Marx - Right Here Waiting. When I was little we drove down the west coast of the US from San Fran to San Diego and this song was CONSTANTLY on the radio. Reminds me of sunshine and blue sea :)

Day 07 - A Song That Reminds Me of A Certain Event: Planet Perfecto - Bullet In The Gun. Not a certain event per se, but the first year of university certainly. I felt like a bullet out of a gun. And slightly out of control.

Day 08 - A Song That I Know All The Words To: Madonna - Like A Virgin. Oh and I LOVE her outfit in this video. NOT the wedding dress, the electric blue leggings bit. I modelled my hen night outfit on this!!!

Day 09 - A Song That I Can Dance To: Jessie J - Do It Like A Dude/ La Gaga - Bad Romance. Bit current I know, but wanted to mix it up a little. These are sure to get me straight on the dance floor. Even if that dancefloor is my kitchen....Oh and I'm not entirely sure what a mandem is....

Day 10 - A Song That Makes Me Fall Asleep: REM - Nightswimming. A very lovely, very calming, very melancholy song. But it's lovely. And husbando likes it too :)

Breathing In - Word of The Week

Inspiration n: Stimulation of the mind or emotions to a high level of feeling or activity Ety: c.1300, "immediate influence of God or a god," especially that under which the holy books were written, from O.Fr. inspiration, from L.L. inspirationem (nom. inspiratio), from L.inspiratus, pp. of inspirare "inspire, inflame, blow into," from in-"in" + spirare "to breathe" (see spirit)

(Listen to this whilst you read this post - I wrote this post listening to it)

There is a lot of talk about inspiration being something that `hits` you. That comes out of the blue and kind of, clonks you on the head - a `lightbulb` moment. That's not really how it feels to me. 

Inspiration to me is a state of being. It's an emotion or a state where my head and my heart and everything in my body is aligned perfectly. I feel every bit of oxygen in my body, that my blood is flowing smoothly, that my eyes are open wider, that my ears are listening more keenly and that I am receiving knowledge with every cell of my being. I guess it is akin to a religious experience. I feel that I am my truest self in that moment and so anything I produce - be it writing, blogging, cooking, climbing, talking - is my most honest creation. 

In the movie Stigmata, Patricia Arquette's character is possessed and she quotes from the new testament "the Kingdom of God is inside you, and all around you, not in mansions of wood and stone. Split a piece of wood... and I am there, lift a stone... and you will find me." 

I'd never heard these words before and they stuck with me. I'm not a religious person but I try to find beauty everywhere, even in the most unlikely places. And that, to me, is inspiration - it's everywhere, you only have to open yourself to seeing it.

Good-bye To All That - Word of The Week

(Goodbye n: Used to express an acknowledgment of parting. Ety: derived from the phrase "God be with you. Earlier forms of the expression,  God be wy you, god b'w'y, godbwye, god buy' ye, and good-b'wy)


I am standing on a train, pulling out of the station, watching a figure waving to me from the platform. The setting sun silhouettes her against the mountains. She is smiling and we are saying goodbye. I do not think we will ever see each other again and the golden light that surrounds us feels like a blessing. It's okay to say goodbye and to be leaving part of myself behind.


She is so young, so hopeful - and so happy for me. I have never seen her smile before, or feel anything other than numb. Her hair drifts in the breeze and rush from the train but she does not push it behind her ears. I can see her squinting in the light to see me, from behind thick, clunky glasses. Normally so awkward and clumsy, in this moment of parting I see her for who she really is; beautiful. She is finally serene and at peace, no longer hurting or fearful. We are no longer the same person and although the parting has been painful - we have been so close, so inextricably entwined for so many years - it is the right thing to do.


As when any relationship ends, we have moved through the process first of denial, then anger, bargaining, grief and now we have reached acceptance. It has been a hard. gruelling journey. We were stuck in denial for so long we didn't even realise we'd decided to split. But then the anger finally hit and I knew we were on our way. The exhaustion of living a life in fear and anxiety, when one person gets fed up of the other, there is nothing left do but leave. And though the leaving hurts so much - and you question the decision you've made - when you get to the other side you know you've made the right decision. We don't love each other anymore - I don't think we ever did. I need to love myself for who I am now - and not how I was then, which is why I'm leaving her behind and getting on with the rest of my life.


I've pictured myself on this train many times and I've had the sensation that I've been travelling someplace, but I've never felt in control or certain of what was happening. But now I've been able to see what's I'm leaving behind and more importantly, I can see what's up ahead. And that's not clear, but  seeing it for the first time, makes me realise that for once, I'm optimistic about the future.

Behind the Masks - Word of The Week

(Identity n: The collective aspect of the set of characteristics by which a thing is definitively recognizable or known, The distinct personality of an individual regarded as a persisting entity; individuality. Ety: from Latin idem, the same, being, and identidem, repeatedly, from id, it; see i- in Indo-European roots.)

Tonight's WoTW is a bit naughty of me. As some of you might know, I've been seeing a counselor to deal with my er, black dog issues. She knows I write this blog and she asked me to write a blog post on `identity` as my homework for our next session. However, I don't think she expected me to post this online.

So, identity - it's something that I think I'm becoming more and more aware of as I wade deeper into that pool that calls itself `Social Media`. Increasingly it seems, we are required to define ourselves - and as briefly as possible, from the elevator speech to Twitter's 140 character limit on profile descriptions. Who are we - or more importantly how do we wish to be perceived? Sometimes I don't even think that people are conscious of their words coming to define themselves. 

Something I've noticed a lot on Twitter is that women seem to define themselves predominantly by their relationships to others; I would say 60% of the women I follow do this. Their profile definition is always `wife/mother/sister/daugher/aunt` etc. Clearly these relationships are very important to them - as they are to the majority of us - but do they come to define you as a person and are they the first thing that you want people to notice about you? 

Can you hear me calling?....Word of the Week

(Vocation n: Specified occupation/a special urge, inclination, or predisposition to a particular calling or career, esp a religious one. Etym: from Latin vocātiō  a calling, from vocāre  to call)

This week's WoTW has been a bit of a slippery fish for me to blog about. It's taken awhile for all my thoughts around Vocation to percolate into some kind of coherent thought and statement about how I feel about `a calling to write`. To give you a heads up, I think this post will be a little more introspective about how I came to write and what drives me. I hope that maybe, in some small way, this resounds with you (my amorphous audience out there) and encourages you with your writing. I shall begin....

I can't say for sure that my desire to write is a calling along the lines of a religious calling, of taking vows and committing to a particular belief or faith *but* I do think that wanting to write, having that burning compulsion to craft or make something from the thoughts in your head requires a faith in something invisible but nevertheless very real and *there* in much the same way that those of a religious calling put their faith in god.

But yet this calling to write is such a fickle siren song for me - it takes so much out of me and gives so little back sometimes. It drives me on to continue putting words and thoughts and feelings onto paper, onto my blog, into my PC, to tweet and facebook and chat to other people endlessly about their writing and reading and blogging. I'm not sure where this drive first came from - I guess it was a song in my heart and head that beckoned me, tempted me, even as a child to put words down on paper.

I loved to read from a young age, to disappear into new worlds, to travel to far flung places from the safety of my playroom (yes, I had a playroom...) so it came as no surprise to anyone, least of all me, that I loved to write as a child. But then I stopped....and I'm not sure why. And I'm not sure how, nearly 20 years later I came to reclaim that cast aside pen and paper and return to the simple process of , well, writing!

I dabbled in poetry as a teenager (didn't we all), I started, fitfully the odd story or idea in my head but then I just ground to halt. I lost all belief in my own abilities as a writer - I told myself that I was worthless, the poems were worthless, there was no point. It was a futile endeavour and best I gave it up now before everyone else could see what a failure I was. But still well into my late teens and early 20's, that siren song to write kept calling me from inside my heart.

Unfortunately, other people seemed to be able to hear it as well. If I had a pound for every time someone - friends, family, work colleagues, total strangers - has asked me if I'm writing a book, when am i going to write a book, am I published yet - well I could fund the libraries myself. So clearly out there, somewhere that siren song is now audible about my person.

I guess, sometime around 2009 I thought `fuck it` and started to give in and swim across to the siren's rock. What if I have a go at this writing *thing*. I just got so fed up with dancing to the same tune, it was time to write to a new one. As I have blogged earlier this year, I dipped my toe in the water by starting this blog for a few months. But then again I doubted myself and I cast my writing aside. Fear of failure yet again preventing me from creating anything much at all.

I trundled on, I got married, I changed jobs - and with my job, I discovered a new me. Yes! I could be creative. Yes! I had ideas - and they may be daft - but they were ideas - and from daftness can, sometimes, come gold. It was as if something had come unstoppered in my head. Where had these ideas come from - this part of my brain that clearly, had lain dormant for years and years. I had denied myself my creative streak and for what reason - nothing at all.

So finally, last november, those `feathery maniacs`, the sirens in my head sang loudly and clearly - and this time I was proud to hear their song -and to sing along with it. I have my 50k of novel, I have this blog - which you people are reading, so I must be doing something right. I think perhaps maybe, I should take pride in the fact that I have this song in my head and in my heart - and this time, I'm listening to it with my whole self.

Thank you and good night

Stupidgirl has left the building

Let's Talk About Sex Baby....Word of The Week

Well yeah, as the song goes really, let's talk about sex. Let's just get right down to the nitty gritty. How does one write the perfect sex scene? Neither too smutty/pornographic nor too fluffy and schmaltzy. What words do you use to describe parts of the anatomy? Do you make it funny? What if everyone who reads the scene assumes you've written it based on your sex life + the person you're sleeping with? What if what if what if................

In case you're new to the blog and am wondering WTF is this crazy person going on about, every week I do Word of the Week (WoTW). I pick a word and talk about it in relation to writing. The last few weeks' words have been quite intense - and provoked a lot of discussion - so I thought I'd do something a little more light-hearted this week and talk about sex.

This whole post was inspired by one of my status updates during Nanowrimo, when I was struggling with writing the sex scenes in my book. Seeing as one of my main characters is a sex slave, I couldn't really avoid writing about it, but god it was hard . My status update read:

"lots of people have asked to read my nano book but I'm very sorry I can't show it to any of you. It has sex in it and then you'll know far too much about what I think about sex and it's just all too wahhhhhhhhhh I bet Jilly Cooper doesn't have this problem she just gets on with it. Help! "

This status provoked 21 comments as to what makes a good sex scene and whether people can still look you in the eye after you've described anal sex (not that I have, just a for example).


So - is there an art to writing a good literary sex scene? And what do I even mean by good - everyone has different ideas of what makes a good sex scene right?! And clearly none of this applies if you're writing erotica/bonkbusters/posh porn etc.


My best example of this is the library sex scene in atonement. It's simple but obvious and leaves your imagination to fill in the blanks (blanks that were hugely helped by the divine James McAvoy playing Robbie in the film). I think Ian McEwan should also win an award for excellent, if not the definitive use, of the word cunt.


Therefore, for the purposes of this post, I shall define a good literary sex scene as one in which you know exactly what is happening without it being described in TMI detail. Equally it should still be titillating - I want my readers' pulses to speed up a little, I want their pupils to be a touch dilated  - but I don't want them frantically dashing home for a quick one! It is the fine art of brushing the canvas without painting in the detail. 


It is also quite hard to write a sex scene that doesn't end up being comically amusing - mainly due to issues with what words to use for the various parts of the anatomy. If I list some examples here:


Male: penis, cock, willy, member, rod, erect, erection, hard on, stiffy, tumescent, spunk, come, cum, semen, sperm
Female: Clunge, gash, cunt, vagina, vadge, clit, flaps, pussy, quim, minge, lady garden, hairy mound, mons venus


I could go on - I did considerable research on twitter for this, which resulted in much tea being snorted out of my nose onto my laptop and general hilarity at our inability to find attractive names with which to label our body parts. I must also pay brief homage to Judy Blume here who surely must win an award for best name for penis ever - the hysterically named 'Ralph' in the book Forever - followed by the immortal line "I have an uncle Ralph". Loving how this does not in any way, diminish teenage ardour.


There was also much revulsion at any of the common metaphors used in books including things like "his eager fingers caressed her wetness" - for a start, how can fingers be eager? They're just fingers - are they possessed? Let's not even go near the wetness side of things. This is what I mean by TMI - we know what you're doing, either use the proper words (it's a clit, folks, every lady has one) or just don't bother at all. As for descriptions of orgasm - where everyone comes together naturellement, all the talk of waves crashing and reaching peaks and riding it out sometimes makes me wonder if the characters are fucking or on some sort of outward bound course.


Which brings me onto the verb one uses for sex scenes. Do they fuck? Do they make love ? Do they shag? Do they 'do it'? Do they screw? Is he giving her one? Shafting her? The list is endless. I know that there are different types of sex - fucking is different to having sex IMO - but really, lets call a spade a spade people. They're having sex. End of.


My final issue with writing about sex is actually fear of how it reveals what your own attitude to sex is. My book involves several different types of sexual relations - infidelity shags, loving sex and paid for fucks. All of which have to be described differently + provoke different reactions in the reader. It doesn't mean that this is the type of sex I have myself, but when you've had the same partner for many years does that mean your readers think you're drawing on experience. Ultimately my characters define the sex they have - not me - I'm just their conduit and I certainly haven't experienced (sadly?) some of the situations I describe.


I guess the main conclusion I can draw about writing a sex scene is that - much like the act itself, and like writing - everyone does it differently. You have to write a sex scene that stays true to your book, its voice and its characters and screw everyone else (bad choice of words, slaps self). Surely, much like sexual partners - for every sex scene, there is the perfect reader? You just have to work out which buttons to press.


Thanks for listening - and for the very entertaining contributions to this from the tweeties! As ever, please let me know your thoughts. Am hoping to be back tomorrow night with a photo essay and then interview day on friday. Sunday is going to be my Top 10 Poems!


Thank you and goodnight


Stupidgirl has left the building

Kindness Is Not A Swear Word

(Kindness n The quality or state of being kind. Kind adj Humane, considerate, tolerant, generous, agreeable, warm-hearted,friendly, charitable, understanding. Ety: from O.E. gecynde "natural, native, innate," related to cynn "family"and pre-Germanic gakundiz)


I've been wanting to use Kindness as WoTW for a little while now, especially after last week's word; I've been blogging regularly for nearly a month now and one thing has really struck me in that time. In all the blogs I read and all the tweople I follow, in all the discussions about writing, writers and authors just seem to be *so* hard on themselves and their work. What happened to being kind to yourself? Just why are we so self-critical and lacking in confidence + self esteem when it comes to our projects and w-i-ps?


Don't get me wrong, I'm no fan of the X-Factor style delusion either (you know, when the tone deaf idiots show up to audition thinking that they're the next Mariah Carey only for SyCo to set them straight). It's important to understand that for the most part your work on a day to day basis isn't going to be the next War and Peace but equally, it's no Snooki/Katie Price either. Why can't we give credit to ourselves for trying to follow our dreams and do something different and creative.


I think maybe some of it is attitude related - I think it's very British not to blow one's own trumpet - but some days I think we need to acknowledge what we've achieved; whether that's an amazing scene, a new plot twist, another 1k/5/10k of words or simply just finding the perfect word for what you're trying to say. Why *not* celebrate that? It is good to recognise when you're just that little bit closer to finishing your masterpiece. It sounds terribly cliched to say *think positive* but sometimes that helps. 


One of the reasons why Nanowrimo worked for me + why it was so great was because of the lack of pressure - all I had to do was work towards a word count. It didn't matter if those words were crap or not - and that was unbelievably liberating. I felt happy to just write and write - and yes there was tons of dross but I think you need to work through the crap to get to mine the gold underneath. This attitude of positivity and kindness is also something I have learned - and practised - at work when it comes to being creative. You genuinely can't get to the really good ideas without chucking around some seriously crazy ones too. In fact I've been told in one job that they paid me to come up with "daft ideas"!! 


So lesson number one, for me at least, about kindness: relax your attitude a little, ease up on the inner criticism and feel free to play around with the crazy ideas and tangents - you never know what amazing plot line or character you might discover.


The other part of kindness, is that it's not just attitudinal, its about how you actually act towards yourself in both giving and receiving kindness. Sometimes when someone is kind to you it's really frickin hard to trust that kindness. After all - as many people on twitter said - an act of kindness is often an act of selflessness, giving without expecting anything in return; in these cynical times of economic doom + gloom it can really be hard to believe that people will give something for nothing. I am particularly learning that with twitter and blogging - that people will RT me or follow me or recommend me or let me interview them - and for what personal gain - nothing. It is amazing to be able to accept that and see that they have faith in me and want to help me. The more I see that the more I want to be kind to other people too. Again another cliche but the whole idea of pay it forward I think makes a big difference. Doing good makes you feel good. 


So lesson number 2 that I have learned is just to accept when other people are kind and *trust* them. To just open up and allow people to be kind to me so that I can learn how to be kind to other people - but also how to be kind to me; which will have a knock on affect on my writing.


I know that this week's WoTW has been a little mushier than usual but I'm in a bit of a reflective mood today. As some of you know (and some of you may not), last year was a bit of a tough year and I had a melt down over Christmas. When I went to see the doctor, as well as giving me meds + an appointment with the counsellor, she also told me to be kinder to myself and to learn how to worry less. So this post is my first tiny step on that journey. I know it's a little self indulgent but I hope you'll forgive me this once.


Thank you and good night


Stupidgirl has left the building


PS Many thanks again to all the tweople who gave me their thoughts on kindness, you know who you are - couldn't have done this without you

Does it offend you yeah - Top 10 Irritating Things List

Sorry, love that band name! So, evening everyone, hope you've had great weekends. I am in a rather excitable mood after being featured in the Independent (photo as well, eeep) talking about why I love my library. Read all about it here!

I know I've blogged + pimped out the blog a lot on Twitter recently, so thanks for all your continued support + hope you like what you're reading - it certainly seems like it. I've got an exciting couple of interviews coming up in the next week or so, plus a photo essay and the WoTW is going to be.......kindness.

So, on with the list - thanks to @AliaMcK for helping me compile it. (PS If you missed last week's top 10 funny websites, check it out here)

Top 10 Things That Irritate The Hell Out of Me


1) People who cannot use public transport properly
By this I mainly mean people who do not understand the concept of moving down inside the bus/tube/carriage/tram and just stand there, oblivious to everyone else needing to get on + get to work. This leads to someone (usually big mouth me) shouting in a very posh voice "Could you move down PLEASE!". The person blocking the way then usually pulls a `who, me?` type face, whilst everyone else looks at them in a `yes, you moron` way. Then they move. Also within this category, people waiting to get on the tube/train/bus blocking the exits when you want to get off (wtf is this all about) and people who don't understand the concept of paying for a ticket. It's not hard.
**this point excludes tourists, who can't necessarily be expected to know these things**

2) People who have no manners/lack of common courtesy
These are the people who do not even acknowledge, let alone respond to emails/texts/tweets/voicemails even after a reasonable amount of time has expired (I do appreciate that not everyone is quite as obsessive about being online as moi). Also in this, people who don't say please or thank you when you hold doors open for them. And at a slight tangent to the lack of emailing/texts, people who can't use the correct form of its/it's or they're/there/their or who's/whose. LOOK IT UP. We have spell check and online grammar tools. Check before sending! This particularly goes for people who are trying to sell me something. Why should I buy something from you when you can't even be bothered to use spell check?

3) Really slow computers
You know, those days when your laptop/PC/whatever just goes "You know what, no. Just, no. I am not going to open a single programme without taking at least half a century, freezing, crashing and losing all your work." And this leaves me in an impotent rage, on hold to my IT desk (husbando), shouting at an inanimate object, looking like a crazy bag lady. It's not elegant folks but I'm not alone on this one right?!

4) Have something stuck in your teeth....
That you just can't extract without maximum public embarrassment OR getting home and finding out you walked around all day with something HUGE in your teeth and no one telling you (ditto for open flies, skirt tucked in tights/knickers). Small on the scale of stuff on this list but oh so grrrrrrrr

5) People who don't understand the concept of supermarket checkouts
In this category I include:

• the people who look surprised when it comes to pay + take about three decades to find their purse/wallet/nectar card. This is after queuing for around 30 minutes. Do these people never go out and purchase things? WTF is up with this behaviour?
• the people who decide that the 10 items or less checkout queue rule does not apply to them and they can barge in there with their 25 tins of cat food and 9 bottles of sparkling water that then takes the cashier freakin ages to bag
• inattentive checkout assistants/shop assistants. I am the customer, you serve me, I come to pay, you do not continue chatting away on your mobile phone whilst taking and then messing up my food order. You also do not look pissed off that I interrupted your very important gossip with the other shop assistants when I need something else in my size. I've worked in a shop, I know the pay is shit, I know that people are rude to you but FFS please just do your job at least. It's not my fault if you hate it!

6) That getting dressed for work laundry conundrum (kudos to Alia for help with this one!)

You know, it's monday morning, you go to get your favourite sweater/shirt/dress/trousers/skirt out of the cupboard because it's easy to wear and you don't need to think about matching items...... but the fucker is in the laundry basket because someone (you!) forgot to wash it. Fuckfuckfuck goes your poor tired monday morning head. The clock is ticking on, you've not had a morning beverage and it's pissing with rain. What do you do now? Do you smell it (we've all done that)? Do you just put it on + hope for the best? Do you try to cobble together another outfit whilst every braincell screams "Nooooo it's too early for fashion dilemmas". Whatever the outcome it is just so bloody annoying isn't it!

7) The disappearance of the yummy food

You've had a long day - lots of meetings maybe, or just lots of work. Alternatively you've been out late/up early/you've got a hangover and all you want is that nice glass of juice or....the last biscuit/piece of cake or.... the half a tub of Ben + Jerrys or.....the Chinese take out left overs. Mmmm, perfect you think, just the ticket to make you feel better. 

But no dagnabit! Someone has got there first and they've eaten/drunk the damn thing. There's not even any milk for tea or bread for toast. Arghhhhh if this doesn't give you the rage then you've the patience of a saint!

8) The Daily Fail

I don't think I need to say any more. Just the mere thought of this publication gets my blood pressure going. Along with that I'd like to add the people who read said publication and then think they have the  right to form a solid, intelligent political opinion based on this - and not being aware that they are coming across as ignorant bigots! 

Handy tip - here is a link to an add-on for firefox that when you click on the Fail's website, hides it with pictures of kittens and tea (thanks to Caroline for this one!) 

9) Reality TV Shows

Big Brother, I'm a Celebrity Get me Out of Here, X Factor, Pop Idol, Strictly Coming Dancing, Dancing on Ice, So You Think You Can Dance, Come Dine With Me. 

FUCK OFF

Just FUCK RIGHT OFF. If there is anything more likely to get me ranting away at my tellybox then it's a reality TV show. I do appreciate that some people like them, I do, and that's their opinion. But generally I flipping hate the shows. I don't give a toss about a bunch of weirdos in a house in North London, neither do I care about slebs fainting/eating spiders/peeing outside. I certainly don't want to watch a bunch of talentless wannabees have their dreams shredded by SyCo. It's so voyeuristic. And yet this week I watched at least 6 episodes of CDWM.

10) The government closing (or trying to) libraries/cutting their funding.

Need I say more? Add your support and stories about why your library is important to you here!

Feel differently about any of these? Want to add your own moments, please comment below - this one could run and run.

As ever thanks for reading and hope to see you again soon.

Thank you and good night.

Stupidgirl has left the building

Confession Time

(Honesty noun - The quality of being Honest adj. - telling the truth or able to be trusted and not likely to steal, cheat or lie Etym. - From the Latin `honestestas` meaning honor, honest or virtue.)


The aim of Word of The Week (WoTW) is to make me bring the focus of this blog back to writing at least once a week - as that was one of the main reasons I started blogging. The idea is that I'll talk about a word but show how I think it relates to the craft of writing, if that makes any sense. (Although last week's WoTW was not focused on writing, the previous week it was.) This week's WoTW is Honesty.


Weirdly the inspiration for this WoTW struck when I was in a seminar this morning - don't ask me how i get involved in these things - on the topic of coaching. One of the thoughts I had about coaching was that it seemed to me all about someone encouraging you to be honest with yourself about yourself and what you want. Bingo - WoTW found - tick off the list for today!


It made me think about how as I, as a writer (and yes, I am finally counting myself as one, being honest here) should be more honest with myself about my writing and what I want from it. Sometimes it feels like  the advice I've read about writing and writers and literature isn't all that honest; it can seem a little prescriptive and conformative (sorry, not sure if that's even a word). 


For example i think the general external perception of writing is that one must always be working towards the greatest work of literature ever produced, that to want to be published is wrongetty wrong wrong, that you should be a slave to your art etc etc. Clearly, for most published authors this is not the case, but even within writing circles I feel like there is a little bit of snobbery over what constitutes an acceptable attitude towards one's own writing.


I would guess that the majority of writers out there (published or not) are working away in spare rooms, coffee shops, squeezing time to write around day jobs that pay the bills and partners and kids and well, real life. Some of us write on the bus, on the tube and the train. I am guessing I am not alone in having inspiration strike at massively inopportune moments - mainly during my working day - yet I do not have the liberty to drop everything and bash out a few 1000 words. Neither, should I add, that if writers block strikes, can I wander amongst the daffodils. I have to write when i have time, regardless of whether the words are there or not. Else it doesn't happen at all. It does sometimes make me question why I bother to write.


So I would like to be honest here and say the biggest secret I have been keeping about my writing is............I dream of being published, I do, really, perhaps that's not a huge surprise but I am ashamed of admitting that in public. So often I have seen it said that you should not write to be published etc - and I'm not writing to be published but equally, it is one of the goals I am working towards with my writing.


Linking into this, if I'm honest, the possibility (tiny though it may be) of being published is something that helps motivate and focus me, otherwise what am I doing all this for? Clearly being published is only one of the reasons I write - I love my book and I am in love with my characters (wld like to point out I don't think my book is amazing, but I love it anyway, like old slippers). My book is comforting, it is non judgemental, it demands nothing of me save what I chose to give it. And at this stage of my life, I am finding it very rewarding to write - the creativity it demands is really helping me be more productive and creative at work - weird huh. I guess it would surprise you all to think that I don't really consider myself a creative person.


So this post is dedicated to all the writers and authors out there, for when it's really getting tough and it's hard not to lose hope and what WTF are we really doing here.  Well take time to think about yourself and consider what do you really want from your writing? More importantly, are you getting it? If not, why not? After all, as every Jewish Princess know (moi included) if you don't ask you don't get. I hope that this post inspires maybe someone out there to think about what you want from your writing and take the first step to getting there. Isn't that a little bit exciting + empowering?


I really welcome your comments and thoughts on this - good or bad (can't promise I won't cry!). It interests me.


Thank you and good night.


Stupidgirl has left the building