It's not you ...

I've started and deleted this post so many times it's getting ridiculous so I'm just going to say it. I have some stuff that I have to do that I thought would take a few days but is actually going to take a few weeks. It also needs my full attention, which it isn't getting at the moment. So, I'm taking a break from blogging. I think for at least a couple of months, I'm not sure exactly yet. Let me be clear, I'm not 'burnt out' or bored, or tired of blogging. It's that I still, after more than a year, haven't learnt how to manage my time effectively.

For those of you who I promised Musical Impressions to in May, I'm really very sorry and I'll be in touch when I get back to see if you're still interested. I'll be taking a complete break from the internet for a week or so, but then I'll be back to reading some of my favourite blogs, so you won't get rid of me that easily!

To all of you, thank you for making this the most fun I could ever have with my clothes on. I'll truly miss you. I felt it was only right that I should leave you with a song. This song is dedicated to everyone but especially those who are old enough to remember Lenny before Cinna was even thought of .

Take care guys, love you.

J: Job-hunting

Blogging from A to Z: J

Sorry this is late. Something came up yesterday that took longer than expected. Also, I'm not trying to insult anyone, especially teens, (I have two hard-working ones of my own), with this. I'm just fed up with being seen as inferior. Apologies. I'm not feeling very funny today. I'll come back with something better for K, I promise!

Five reasons prospective employers don't like me.

1. I'm too old

That's very short-sighted of them, considering that next month I will be The Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, The Universe and Everything. That's got to make me worth having on staff, surely?

2. I'm over-qualified.

It may look like it, after I went back to school to get my degree a few years ago. But honestly, a general sociology/social psychology degree doesn't actually qualify me to work in those fields without further study, which won't be happening.

3. I haven't had much experience in the past ten years.

I know I've only had one job, but I do have five years of study and a set of well adjusted twin daughters. It's not like I've been sitting around doing nothing.

4. Hiring a teen is cheaper.

Probably, but you know when you and your friend each buy a kettle, and she buys an expensive top-quality one whilst you buy the cheap one? You're on your fourth cheap kettle by the time she needs to replace hers, and it's cost you a lot more than her in the long run. Do I need to say any more?

5. I haven't worked in this field before.

I'm smart. I can learn to operate a cash-register, stack a shelf or greet a customer in the corporate manner fairly quickly. I already know how to write a letter using real words, and answer a telephone using words of more than one syllable. That should count for something.

One more thing, prospective employer. I should thank you. Your policy of 'no response means no' may be irritating but at least it's preparing me for the industry I'd really like to enter. Apparently, they are masters of it :-) Don't worry though. If you hire me, you'll never know there's something else I'd rather be doing. As long as you never find my blog ;-)

Sick

Apologies for the fact there are no Musical Stories this week. I didn't feel well last night. Today I feel worse, so I'm going back to bed. Hopefully, I'll see you Monday. Have a good weekend.

Some very Special People

I'm the first to admit that I'm really really bad when it comes to passing on awards. One of the reasons for this is that, other than Musical Stories on Fridays, I only post once a week and something always seems to come up when I'm planning an award post. This is partly why I'm planning to post an extra day a week. I probably won't start doing this until December because of NaNo, but I've got so much great stuff that I find, and want to share, that it's something I need to do.

That was all a long-winded introduction to tell you about a really special award that I received a while ago. Julie at rosewood pencil box gave me an award that she and J at Concrete Pieces of Soul had designed. (Well technically J's talented fiancé designed it, but you know what I mean). They've named the award 'The thumbs up from Skunk award' since “we all feel like stinky, stinky skunks some days” and there are people who “make us feel (and smell) a lot better”. I don't know about the smelling part, but there are definitely people who make me feel better :-)

Thank you so much to Julie, and I'll let her explain the award:

Since the Random-Things-About-Yourself trope is getting a little tired, J and I decided to make this award different. Of course, still thank and link back to the person who gave it to you. Thumbs Up from Skunk is about confidence, believing in yourself, so we think it'd be great for you to list one Thing About Yourself That Pleases You, one thing you LOVE. It could be anything, from your writing, to a good meal you had, a conversation with a witty cut-up... something good. To get the ball rolling, J and I are passing the award onto five people a piece, but you can give it to as many or as few as you like. You can even hold onto it, if you'd rather, until a particularly uplifting something occurs, and then pass it on accordingly. Or, as J says in her post, “until someone comes along and changes your universe.” I love that.

Okay, something about myself that pleases me? Fifteen days ago (not that I'm counting!), I started a diet, and I have stuck to a sensible eating plan instead of some get-skinny-quick crash diet. There's a long way to go, and it's not something I'm going to bore you all with by blogging about (although I might, occasionally), but right now, it's something I'm proud of.

Now for the hard bit. Obviously, there are so many people I would like to pass this on to, so I decided to pass it on to people who either inspire me, or make me feel good, without knowing that they do so. Feel free not to display it or pass it on if you choose not to, (at least one of these people doesn't display awards), I just wanted you to know that you make a difference. I managed to narrow the list to six, so in no particular order:

E. R. King at Get Busy Writing and

Vic Caswell at hairnets and hopes

Emily and Vic, thank you for being my friends. Your emails cheer me up, and you both have the ability to make me laugh even when you don't know that's exactly what I need :-)

Margot Kinberg at Confessions of a Mystery Novelist

Margot, you write a fabulous crime fiction blog and I've expanded my knowledge of this genre so much since I've been reading it. More than that though, you are kind and patient and you never mind when I make stupid comments. Your kind emails have stayed with me, thank you.

Denise at L'Aussie Writing

For making me feel that you believe in me, and for having faith that one day I might be able to write a decent romantic scene :-)

Michelle at Hot Pink Combat Boots

For your sense of humour and fun blog, (the name of which suits you perfectly), in the face of constant moves and a difficult job. I admire the way that you get on and do things that others only think about.

Brooke Busse at Paper Mountain

Because every piece of flash fiction you write makes me want to know more about the characters. I think you are incredibly talented and I cannot wait for the day I can buy something published by you. Your writing inspires me.

You six, you inspire me, and make me feel good. So now you know :-)

I apologise for the weird spacing, font size and everything else. I've typed this post three times. Blogger hates me.

Internet - Luxury or Necessity?

This post was supposed to be my entry for the second Campaigners Challenge but I've got nothing. I even tried a poem, but it was just a lot of pretty words strung together with no real meaning behind it. I may be sitting this one out but that's okay, there are plenty of great entries out there. I have to say, I've been very pleasantly surprised by the high standard, considering the words given. It's been a really interesting challenge.

This week I received a telephone call from the local council who I'm negotiating a debt repayment with. We currently disagree on the monthly figure I should pay. Among other things, I was told that having the internet was a luxury I didn't need. I explained that I felt it was necessary as there are two adults in the house looking for work, and two teenagers who have important exams next Summer, who are constantly set homework assignments that require the internet. The Official said that wasn't a good enough reason to pay for such a luxury and it would have to go. He wasn't querying the amount I pay for it, just the fact that I pay for it at all. It's academic really, because even if I got rid of the internet, and made the changes that he said I should, our disposable income still wouldn't reach the amount that they are asking for.

So here's where I want your opinion, and I mean this genuinely. Am I wrong in considering the internet to be a necessity these days? Putting aside the fact that I'm a writer and a blogger, I could still work on my wip at home obviously, only research would be affected. The amount I pay for my internet would pay for 5.5 round trips per month between Techno and I to visit the Jobcentre and the library. The girls could probably stay late at school to do their homework. There are some problems with that, but I won't complicate things.

I'm honestly not just looking for you to tell me that the big bad council is wrong, (unless that's what you believe, of course), but I'm wondering if I have a false sense of entitlement, if actually the internet really is something that I should be prepared to get rid of.

So, internet - luxury or necessity?

ETA: This post has been edited to remove some of the more personal elements that I probably shouldn't have shared in the first place.

There are more good people than bad

Okay, to counterract the insane stuff I've been watching on my television, as parts of this country tries its hardest to destroy itself, I've got some fun things to report on.

Today, Jen at A book, A girl, A Journey passed a meme onto me. It's a fun one so I thought I'd give you lot a hint into my psyche by answering the questions. Incidentally, if you want a peek at her writing, you can read part of her first chapter at Blackbird in my Window. If you're not following Jen by the way, you should, she's lovely.

So, here are my answers:

Show us the cutest most adorable picture of your favorite animal.


(Picture of Giraffe removed).

Because giraffes don't get enough love.

You have five seconds to survive the Zombie Apocalypse. Choose one friend who would save your butt and tell us why you choose them.
Jen chose her husband and I'm going to copy her here. Except I'm going to choose my husband, not hers, because that would be weird. I haven't even met him. Although he looks rather cute in that picture on her blog (sorry Jen!) but no, my husband – well, partner (seeing as bigamy isn't allowed and I, uhh, haven't got a divorce yet. Don't hate me) - is the most awesome, all round together guy I know, and I don't doubt for a second that he will take care of us when the Zombie Apocalypse comes.

Share a quote with us.
'Trust the instinct to the end, though you can render no reason'

Ralph Waldo Emerson (Thanks Claudia)

I know you had trouble choosing just one, let's have another.
Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain'.
If anyone knows whose quote that is, please can they let me know?

Using exactly 27 words tell us your life story.
Grew up, moved across the country. Married, had kids, moved back then back again. Went to uni, husband left. Found new love, started writing, penniless but happy.

Please do not throw your hands up in the air. This is not a stick up.
Not possible. One of my arms doesn't work properly :)

All the dead rock legends live again. You're standing in a fifty mile long line for:
Umm Does Elvis Costello count as a rock legend? Although, he's not dead.

Describe yourself using six words that start with the third letter of your middle name.
Natural, naïve (apparently), nerd, nocturnal, not neat.

What is your middle name? (This is for research purposes only. Your response will not affect your chances of employment.)
Lindsay

I'm not sure how many I was supposed to tag with this but the questions are fun, so anyone who wants to have a go at this one should do it.

Also, I received this award last week:

(Picture of Liebster award removed).

I'm really pleased. This is my first ever award and I received it from two people. The first was
Abby at Something to Write about, who awarded it to me last Friday. She's a fairly new blogger but has already become part of the community. The second, on Saturday, was Krista from I Take the Pen. I credit her with finally persuading me to try out flash fiction in a non-scary environment!

The rules of the award are as follows:

The Liebster Award (meaning “friend” in German) is meant to connect us even more and spotlight new bloggers who have less than 200 followers – but hopefully not for long. The rules are:

1.Show your thanks to the blogger who gave you the award by linking back to them.
2.Reveal your top 5 picks and let them know by leaving a comment on their blog.
3.Post the award on your blog.
4.Bask in the love from the most supportive people on the Internet – other writers.
5.And best of all – have fun and spread the karma!

It was difficult to pick out five people for this, not least because three of the people I had picked out received it whilst I was too busy watching things burn to write a blog post, but here are five blogs that you should check out if you haven't already:

Claudia Moser, at The Story. Whatever life throws at her, she always does her best to come up smiling.
Lauren F. Boyd: My Path to Publication. She's working hard to get her work out there and is generously sharing her experiences.
Rebecca Bradley, at Life in Clarity. I love Rebecca, she's in a similar place to me, writing wise, and I feel like we have a lot of things in common.
Rebecca Kiel. She compares making jelly (by which I've just realised she, of course, means jam. Jelly is jello in America, right?) to writing and made me look at a blue square to make my climax hotter. How can I not love that?
Lastly, and I probably shouldn't do this because although she writes, it's not a writing blog and she doesn't often post but Neon Stitches is written (occasionally) by someone special :)

I hope you find something to enjoy among that little lot.

There's more to fear than fear

The only thing we have to fear is fear itself ( Franklin Delano Roosevelt)

We all know that quote. If FDR was around today, his words would be the leading sound bite on every news bulletin. But, you know what? I disagree. There's a whole lot more to fear than fear itself.

On Monday, Chantele Sedgwick at My Writing Bug wrote a post about fear. There was a line in it that particularly resonated with me.

“I'll always have fears no matter what part of my journey I'm in.”

Years ago, when I was trying to get pregnant, my biggest fear was that it wouldn't happen. That fear was realised and my husband and I went through IVF. The only thing I had to worry about then was the treatment working. It did. Worry over, right?

Of course not. The first three months of pregnancy are the most dangerous. I could stop being scared once I got past that, not before. Except then there was the rest of the pregnancy, the premature births, intensive care, the fear of cot death, vaccination side-effects, and then...and then...right up to the present day and a whole new set of fears I have about my teenage daughters.

Yesterday I sent my Mum an email which ended with the line 'I'm forty-one years old Mum, stop worrying.' I got a response back asking 'at what age will you stop worrying about the girls?'

Okay, score one for my Mother.

Before I was pregnant, I really believed that at some point in the Motherhood process I would stop worrying. Ha! Just like as a writer I once believed that all I had to worry about was getting the first draft complete; but once I'd done that I had a new fear. What if I can't revise it well enough? That's where I am right now. Chantele's fear right now is of success. I bet I'll be scared of that too. Right after I've finished being scared of not finding an agent, not finding a publisher, not getting a release date and then...and then...

“I'll always have fears no matter what part of my journey I'm in.”

I understand this. I bet most of us, if we're honest, understand it. Not just about our writing, but about many things in life. That's okay. It's fine to be frightened, to have fear. Life can be scary.

What's important is how we react to that fear. We can wrap our kids up in cotton wool, or never let anyone else read our work. Or we can be frightened but, as Chantele says, learn how to deal with it and believe in ourselves. In other words, get on with living.

Saving it for later

As I've mentioned before, I'm currently unemployed. I also don't have much of a social life. The second is a direct result of the first, I think. (Don't feel sad for me by the way, the world is a scary place and I like it at home!) The up side of this of course is that I have plenty of free time. You would think that means I'm on top of everything, right? You would think.

Phil, at A Time to Phil, had a great post today about my problem. He calls it SIFS, save it for Sundays. Being at home all day I don't have to wait until Sunday, I just SIFL (which sounds even more like a slang name for a nasty disease than Phil's does, but never mind). I save it for later.

The girls come home with a letter from school that needs to be signed and returned. I read the letter. Then instead of signing it with the pen that's RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME, I put it on the table to deal with later. I read junk mail, and instead of dropping it straight into the recycling box in the hallway, I put it on the table to deal with later. Nothing ever gets done now. I need a check up at the dentist? Instead of calling them when I think of it, I make a note to ring them later.

Everything gets done, eventually, but why do I do this? Why do I wait until I have five different phone calls to make? Or until there's a pile of paper on the table that's starting to resemble that famous Italian edifice? I even, sort of, do it with my writing. When I started MYWYN I was determined to write 1k words a day. It didn't happen. Sure, there were other reasons, but if I'd managed my time properly I could have done it. I don't beat myself up about it because I can write 4 or 5k at a time in a decent session, which is usually every couple of days. I tell myself that's my preferred working method but I can't help thinking about how much more I could do if I could just make myself sit down and do that every day.

None of this is a problem at the moment, but sooner or later (I hope) someone will actually employ me, and maybe one day someone will even be interested in one of my books. If either – or both – of those things happen, I'd better get myself organised. I use google calendar and I make lists, but there's no cure for procrastination – except getting my ass into gear!

Thanks Phil, for giving me the idea for this post

Memories are made of this

You know how when you smell a certain aroma or fragrance it can take you instantly back to a place, a time or person? Well, music is like that too, at least for me. If Techno wants to torment me, he plays 'Charlie's death theme' from 'Lost'. Even before I recognise what's playing, I feel the tears start to form. Happens every time. If you never watched 'Lost' that will mean nothing, but if you did I'm sure you know where I'm coming from.

I thought I'd share some songs that instantly transport me to another time and place, and ask you what songs bring back a specific memory every time you hear them?

1983, school trip to France and my happiest memory of my school days. There was a jukebox on the ferry on the way home and we played this song, (which had been THE song of the holiday), over and over again all the way home.

1988, My best friend was engaged to a soldier. She lived with his mother who didn't think she should go out while he was away. We used to listen to this song every weekend whilst getting ready, and as soon as Lisa's future mother-in-law went to bed we used to sneak out of the window (I swear, we really did!), and go clubbing.

1990 - My first serious heartbreak. I'd been with the same boy, on and off, for four years. We both knew it wasn't going to work - we'd been engaged three times - but I was the one who ended it by moving across the country. He sent me this single in the post.

1999 - I worked the night shift in a petrol station. Worse job EVER but every night around 2am I would lock the doors so I could mop the floor. This song would come on and I would sing it at the top of my voice whilst cleaning.

It was so hard to choose just four. I might have to do this again :)

Advice to my selves

We've had some heavy discussions here lately so, in the interests of lightening the mood a little, I thought I'd give you a little giggle at some of the not-so-smart things I've done in my life!

A long time ago I had another blog. It didn't last very long as a few weeks after starting it I lost computer access for a long time. By the time I got it back, other things had taken over. There were a few entries in it that I quite liked, and I thought I'd share this one from August 2008. I've only added one piece of advice since then. So tell me, what advice would you give to your younger selves?

Age seven – Do not carry on a shouted conversation from the toilet in your classroom to the kid in the toilet in the adjoining classroom, especially when you tell a pack of lies about how you are the new girl from America when A. you have been at the school for a year, and B. you have a totally English accent. When you exit the toilet you will discover that the entire class, including the teacher, has been listening to every word. They will all laugh, and you will cry.

Age ten – When you are asked if you have any doubts about the family that are going to foster you, be honest. If you lie to avoid hurting anyone's feelings then both you and the family are going to be stuck with each other for seven long years.

Age twelve – When you are told that there is a place at Grammar school for you so you will be able to get higher qualifications and go to university at eighteen, but you will have to start working to your potential, do not tell the headmaster that 'what you see is what you get'. You will stay in a school that is due to close the year after you leave which means everyone, including the teachers, stops trying and you will leave at sixteen having never worked to that potential.

Age seventeen – When you go to college to get the qualifications that you should have got at school, so you can still go to university, do not spend the first year of the two year course in the pub. This will lead you to fail your end of year exams and you will not be allowed to return. You will then end up in a 'safe' utterly dull job instead of doing what you really want to do.

Age nineteen – Learn to control your eating habits. When you stuff all that crap into your mouth and people ask how you manage to stay so slim, do not reply casually 'yeah I know, one day I'm gonna wake up fat'. Because one day you will.

Age twenty – When your parents tell you they are emigrating and taking your eighteen year old brother with them, don't let pride stand in the way of telling them you want to come too. They only didn't ask because they didn't think you'd be interested.

Age twenty-two – When your friend tries to set you up on a date and you tell her you can't possibly go out with someone named N****, listen to your instincts. Run fast and far from this man.*

Age twenty-six – When you are 32 weeks pregnant with twins, do not wish you were no longer the size of a small block of flats. Because when the babies are born 8 weeks early you will spend 3 weeks watching them in hospital thinking it was your fault.

Age thirty – When you move to the other side of the country and you are secretly relieved when your husband tells you at the last minute that he's not coming, so you'll only see him for four days out of every fourteen, listen to the warning bells. Something is wrong here.

Age thirty-two – When you decide after a year at university that actually social work isn't for you, try to pick a more useful degree course to transfer to than sociology/applied psychology. Sure, it's fun, but it won't get you a job.

Age thirty-five – When you lose lots of weight and look great after becoming a single mum, check your graduation outfit before the day itself. That way your Mother won't have to pin your shirt to your trousers so they don't fall down.

Age thirty-six – When you meet the man you want to spend the rest of your life with, talk more about whether you should live with him or he should live with you. They have good schools there too.

Age Forty – When you spend 9 months losing five stone in weight (again), don't stop going to the slimming club. It will all go back on in less time than it took you to lose it.

Present day – accept that all the things that have happened in the past have happened for a reason, and have led you to this point. Sure you could be financially better off, slimmer and have a tidier house; but you aren't and you don't. What you do have is pretty damned good so hold on to it, appreciate it and be happy.

*Name redacted so I don't offend anyone. (Also, this guy wasn't my husband!)

I've been tagged

I had a post written about the WSJ piece on YA literature but over the past couple of days I've read so many excellent pieces on the same subject that said what I wanted to say, only better, that I pulled it. So I had this post shaped hole on my blog. Luckily the lovely Rebecca at Life in Clarity saved me by tagging me for my first meme. Yay I got tagged!

So, here are my totally honest answers, much as I wanted to change a couple :)

Do you think you're hot?

Not since about 1992. I'll settle for being warm instead.

Upload a picture or wallpaper that you are using at the moment

(Picture removed).

This is today's. I have about six that automatically change on a daily basis (my screen-saver is the same as my wallpaper right?) If I had done this yesterday you would have got a picture of Daniel Craig emerging from the sea.

When was the last time you ate chicken?

Last Friday, home-made curry. The last one I'll have for a while as I started a diet on Monday so no more creamy sauces.

The songs you listened to recently

Eliza Doolittle – Back to front.

I heard a snippet of this on Doctor Who Confidential on Saturday and just remembered to look it up and find out what it was about an hour ago. I've read about Eliza Doolittle but it's the first time I've actually heard one of her songs. I like it very much.

What were you thinking of as you were doing this?

Umm, my answers..and also whether a new player, Jordan Henderson, that Liverpool FC are supposed to be signing is going to be a good buy or not. (It's the last thing I was reading about before I started this).

Do you have nicknames? What are they?

Only from Techno. He never uses my name. That's as honest as that answer gets.

Tag 8 people

Okay, from what I can tell, 8 out of the 15 people who follow this blog haven't done this yet and they are:

Phil at A Time to Phil

Janice at Janice Horton - Writer and Novelist

Louise at Writer in Progress

Roland at Writing in the Crosshairs

Talli at Talli Roland

Debbie at Bluestocking Mum

Ellen at Pink Tea and Paper

Annalisa at Wake up, eat, write, sleep

I know one of you is on holiday in New York (Lucky lucky Ellen) and one of you is a brand new blogger (Hi phil!) but feel free to play if you'd like to :)

What's in a name?

Warning: This post is quite long, and isn't about writing, and tells you stuff about me as a person and not as a writer.

Since it was mentioned by a couple of people in the comments on my last post, I'll tell you the story behind my multiple surnames. The story itself isn't that exciting but it does bring up an interesting topic, that of pen names.

I've read a lot about pen names, written by people both for them, and against them. Here's my issue, and the reason why I've only just added my surname to my blog. I wanted the name on my blog to be the one I would use if I ever do get published but I didn't know what that name would be. Not because I wouldn't want friends and family to know I'd got a book out – who's going to buy it if not them? – but because I don't know what my name will be when that day comes.

I have no emotional attachment to surnames. I had my Father's name when I was born, which was nice of him as he didn't give me much else. The funny thing is he didn't even give me that really, the way my name is spelled on my birth certificate is different to how he spelled it for his own use. (He also made up four first names for himself. Honestly. I first saw a copy of my birth certificate when I was ten and thought I actually had a different father than the one I was led to believe was mine!)

After being in care, I was fostered at the age of ten. My foster parents decided I should have their name. Apparently this is unusual when there are no plans to adopt. I wasn't happy about this. I'll admit, the biggest problem I had with this idea was that they had the most common surname in England and I liked the one I had already, it wasn't a family loyalty thing, at this point I had no family. I complained, but the voices of ten-year-olds aren't very loud and it was done. They really should have done it officially, getting a passport was a terrible struggle, but luckily little girls don't have that many official documents so by the time I was an adult the name was mine.

In the meantime, at the age of fourteen I'd met and formed a relationship with my birth-mother. At the age of eighteen I was asked by my foster mother to leave their home. It was a good idea and one that neither party ever regretted. A year later I moved across the country to live near my mum and her family. She lived with a man who she'd been with since not long after leaving my Father. When I was 20, she married this man. (He's the man I call Dad) I took their name. This time I did it by deed poll. It was much easier to get a new passport.

Six years later, I got married and took my fourth surname. The one I now have. Seven years ago my marriage broke up. I now have a new partner who I expect to be with for the rest of my life (as much as any of us can expect these things, anyway). Which brings me to today. My ex-husband and I never got divorced. We'll probably do it when the girls are sixteen, when judges won't be anxious to 'fix' childcare arrangements that are not broken. I keep his surname purely because it's the same as my daughters and it makes my life easier. I suspect I'll change it when I divorce, but to what? Techno's name? That's a strong possibility, although I doubt we'll marry; or the last name I had before I got married? Another contender. The one thing I was quite sure of was that I didn't want my ex-husband's name on a book I'd written. So I was dithering about which of the other two choices I should use for my blog.

Then something one of my girls said to me a week or so ago, made the decision for me.

“When you have a book published, I can't wait to show my friends at school.”

She has three years of school left. I didn't have the heart to tell her she'd probably be out of school and university before I ever get a book published, but it did make me realise. That surname I'm not bothered about? It's not just my ex-husband's name, it's my daughters' name too. So, for Diva and Blue, the first book I ever get published will be by Sarah Pearson. Whatever my name really is by then.

When I originally wrote this post, there was lots more stuff in it about my life that was nothing to do with names. It was fun to write though. I think I will write that autobiography after all!

Notice anything different?

Did you notice anything different about my blog today? No? Have a look around. I'll wait.

Yup. The eagle eyed among you might have noticed that I have replaced my lovely picture, drawn by Diva, with a photograph. Of me. Also, I've actually put my surname on my blog. So when you don't see my pink haired girl in your comments section, it's not because I've disappeared but because I've moved from fantasy to reality.

When I started my blog, I had every intention of putting up a photograph from the beginning, but when I looked through my pictures the only one I had that I was prepared to share was one of me with pink hair. (Hence the artwork I chose to use).

The problem is that picture is about six years old and I don't look anything like that any more. Now I know this isn't a dating website but still, one day I might actually be trying to find an agent, or publicise a book, so I thought it would be a good idea to actually look vaguely like my blog photograph. And I'll be totally honest, the reason it took so long to get a new picture was because I had to wait until I'd had my roots done. I don't mind keeping it real but even I have my limits :)

I didn't have my surname on my blog simply because I didn't know which one to use. (That's a post for another day) I've chosen now so I'm all set. If I keep this up, soon I'll be a real blogger!

My Life, Unwritten

I received an email this morning from an old school friend which was perfect timing for a post I've been thinking about writing since I started this blog. In my last email to him I mentioned my writing and he asked what my book was about.

they say the best thing to write about is things that you know/have experienced your self - so is it some kind of semi-autobiographical romance novel about the triumphs and tribulations of a strong willed foster kid, her quest for love and happiness, and the men she meets along the way, and who makes it good in the end ??

Now, I'll be honest – if I read what my friend has written as blurb on the back of a book I probably wouldn't open it. It sounds a little dull doesn't it? That's one of the reasons that I would never write an autobiography for publication. Unless I ever become famous/infamous and someone tries to do a hatchet job on me, in which case I will have to respond, but as that's highly unlikely I think we can go with 'never'. That's not to say I didn't have thoughts about writing one, just for my girls to read. I've been thinking about this for some years now, ever since The Freedom of Information Act meant that I was entitled to receive all the notes kept on me from my time in care (and boy was that an eye opener!)

When I first heard about May – You Write Your Novel I decided that it was the perfect opportunity for this particular project, but when I thought about writing it I realised there were parts of my life that I don't want my girls to read about. Not only do I not want them – or anyone else – to read about them, I don't even want to write about them. Ever.

So here's a question, is it still an autobiography if everything that's written actually happened, but everything that actually happened isn't written?

Introducing...

Although this blog will be mostly (I hope) about my writing, I don't live in a vacuum, although sometimes I wish I did. There used to be an advert on television (I have no idea what for, maybe some kind of beverage) where the glamorous mum sat in blissful peace enjoying her drink; whilst around her the family got on with their day, moving at super speed. I'd love to sit in the calm little bubble. In reality it's usually the other three in my household chilling out in blissful ignorance whilst I run around at my own super speed doing stuff that they could do perfectly well for themselves. I just do it for them because...hell, who knows why?

That's my roundabout way of telling you that there are another three names that might show up now and then in my posts. I'm going to give them pseudonyms, just because I can. My first thought was to call them Wynken, Blynken and Nod because, after all, who wouldn't want to be called any one of those names? The problem is that I know I'd always have to be reminding myself who was supposed to be who. So instead I'm calling them names that bear a vague resemblance to their real-life persona's.

Blue and Diva are my fourteen year old daughters. Blue because it's her favourite colour, and Diva because she's going to be an actress. They are nothing alike physically but share a love of reading and creative arts, Blue writes and Diva draws. They both take it for granted that their Mother writes novels and will one day have something published.

Techno is my partner. I hate that word but I'm a bit old for a boyfriend and we're not married (Oh, the shame!). As for 'significant other', just, no. As his nickname suggests, Techno loves science and technology and I love him for it. Especially when he rebuilds my computer out of balsa wood and bits of string . He also takes it for granted that I write, although he's not as confident as the girls about me being published. Not because he doesn't think I can but because he's listened to enough speeches from me about the state of the publishing industry today. These speeches usually end with him asking me 'so are you gonna try anyway?' and me saying 'Hell yeah!'

So that's my cast list, small but perfectly formed; and now, as they say, let's get on with the show!

Because the Internet really needs another writing blog...

Well no actually, it probably doesn't, but I do. I love to write but I'm not great at getting things finished. The idea of this blog is to set myself some new goals, challenge myself and try some new things. Oh yeah, and to finish something. Hopefully I'll learn plenty on the way. I plan to blog about my current work-in-progress, link to other people's posts that I've found helpful and anything else that interests me along the way.