Things I find difficult or just plain annoying about writing (in no particular order). Imposter syndrome. Really difficult to deal with. Does any writer find the process easy? Straightforward? Of course not. Are we delusional to think we can even dare to put metaphorical pen to paper? Maybe. The emotional aspects of being vulnerable, putting 'your baby' out there, can be crippling. But we have to continue nevertheless. Have I left it too late? What have you been doing with your life? Keeping a roof over my head and food on the table that's what. Developing a career and gaining life experiences will offer authenticity and credibility to my work. Those Non-Writer Friends who love to offer the benefit of their unsolicited advice on the writing process, telling you 'how to do it.' Saying to you, "What a nice little hobby you have." I think you're mistaking this for knitting or golf. Writing is not a hobby for me, and I'm aware at how pretentious that might sound. Whatever I'm up to I would like to be taken seriously, so thank heavens for my cheer leaders! Linked with this attitude, is not understanding if once upon a time, I was asked to submit articles for publication in professional journals, and presented at Conference, are they not transferable skills? What are you doing wrong? Cue 'eye roll.' Finding like minded people locally. Oh, the stories I could tell in the search for writing groups! Think I'll leave for another posting. Re-establishing routines when motivation has been lost. You really do have to do something in the writing sphere every day, even if it's a gratitude journal entry. The ability to give yourself a kick up the backside should not be underestimated. Nevertheless, losing your mojo for whatever reason is horrible. Being rejected by agents. Goes without saying that being turned down by agents is part of the process. I've been lucky as I've had mostly 'nice' rejections. On the other hand, it's frustrating to know my work is liked but " not for us this time. " I've stopped overthinking their responses , and driving myself crazy, at what it all might mean. A no is a no, but at least I'm trying. Being asked to write for free. I have written articles for magazines, websites and so on, but no longer do so. "It'll be good experience." "It gets your name out there." It was a good experience to a point, but expecting me to do so for free, because I'm an unpublished author, is bordering exploitative. It becomes a distraction as I should be focused on my Work in Progress (WiP). Things I Love About Being a Writer. Being my creative self. I've long dabbled in writing and now have the luxury of being able to focus full- time. Even though Imposter Syndrome and lack of Motivation are the twins perch ing on my shoulder, I do m y best to ignore . When I get into the rhyme and rhythm of writing I get into my authentic Self. I feel happy, even on the days I'm tearing my hair out or being reduced to tears. What more does anyone want in their life than to be who they are meant to be? I can write in my pyjama's with messy hair all day, fuelled by cups of coffee, and who cares? No-one! I love the art and craft of writing. There's always something new to learn. Polish your craft and take on board constructive criticism. When of the best non-fiction books I've read this year is, The Creative Act by Rick Rubin. It's not a text book by any means, and nor is it meant to be. What it is, is a wonderful, immersive world of what it is to create. An inspiring book to dip in and out of. The joy in creating a piece of Art. Watching something grow and develop to completion ( and yes, it does feel like I'm sometimes watching myself go through the process), even if it is as yet unpublished I've achieved something. Pride in the creative process. I'm in awe of how anyone actually gets to see their work in print! Supportive friends who gift notebooks. If you know, you know. I'm sure there's lots more I could add...how about you, what do you love and hate about writing?

It's been a while since I've been here, hasn't it, and what can I say? Lost my mojo maybe? Writers block, although some say there's no such thing and just keep writing through it. Far greater writers than I have suffered being unable to write. I lost motivation, finding it impossible to put metaphorical pen to paper. One morning a couple of weeks back I woke up and said to myself, today's the day. Just like that! I started writing again in earnest. With passion and joy. I don't know what, how or why, I no longer question it. It is what it is. What may have triggered it though, was hearing someone being asked in an interview the question: How do you see your future in five words? Brilliant Question! What ARE my five words? The beauty of the question and your answer is that it doesn't have to be static. Your chosen words are not cast in stone. The words will morph into other words of significance as life ebbs and flows. So here are mine: Thriving Implies personal growth and with it self-care. Taking time to be still. I practice stillness first thing of a morning, a meditation of sorts. To be in the quiet, not thinking, not doing for about fifteen minutes. Sets my day up in a calm way. Reflecting on what success means to me ~ for sure it is not in material things (excluding Books). Trying to not negatively compare myself with others as a writer. To do things large and small ~ trying to say yes more. Gentle testing of bravery in new ventures. A wise woman once told me, "Respond, don't react." Don't let toxic people test your spirit. Dartmouth My favourite place to be in England ~ my second home. A place where I go to 'retreat,' relax and chill. The town's people are friendly. Time slows down. A town that is full of history, interesting nooks and crannies and secret pathways. Friendships Friends are everything, and it's the quality not quantity in friendships. I'm very lucky I can count on beautiful friendships that have my back, or who I could ring in the middle of the night when disaster strikes. Who offer support without judgement. Laugh til we cry, sharing the same sense of the ridiculous. Sharing tears when life takes a downturn. Friendships where we may not see each other all the time, and nevertheless, pick up where we left off. Wonderful, spirited women who I've known decades and others seemingly met only five minutes ago. Priceless! Oh, and goes without saying they are happily reciprocal friendships! Joy Seek joy in life, even in the mundane. Be curious in the world about you. Walk in nature. Read that book. Marvel at the night sky. Learn a new skill ~ I'm trying to learn French beyond my school girl skills and would like to take learning seriously this year. Enjoy a conversation with a stranger or friend. Accept compliments. Practice self care. Don't let toxic people still your joy. Art "Every child is an artist; the problem is staying and artist when you grow up," Pablo Picasso. Art brings colour and joy into our lives ~ without art we truly have nothing. Enjoy Art in all its forms ~ doesn't have to be expensive nor should it be elitist. Haven't been to the Summer Exhibition in London for a very long time ~ this summer! Try something new. Practice old skills. Immerse self in books, film, music, art and museums. All five words, thriving, Dartmouth, friendships, joy and art, are not mutual exclusive. Neither do they mention 'Writing.' What they do is entwine and support me ~ make my world a better place, give meaning to my existence and therefore, I hope, make me a better writer.

A quick trip to Paris at the weekend, a taster of what might be, was just what was needed. Paris really does have a certain je ne sais quoi, and here are my reflections on two days in Paris. How we got there. We travelled by Eurostar from St Pancras station in London to the Gare du Nord in Paris. Checking in, tickets scanned from our phones. Passport control and security was easy peasy. Allow yourself an hour and half (though it only took us twenty minutes in line to the waiting area), but allow a good 2 hours when coming back home from Paris ~ it took a long while to get checked in and everything. Check the Eurostar website for up to date travel details. I should add although we were prepared, we were not asked for our Covid status. Not sure if this is now the usual way, or a mistake, or the website had not been updated for information. Nevertheless, the journey was super fast, two and a quarter hours from city centre to city centre. Hotel. We book via Eurostar a train hotel package. Staying at a lovely hotel on Boulevard Montemarte, accessed via the beautiful Passage Jouffroy, in the 9th arrondissement, bordering on the 2nd arrondissement ~ perfect central location. We walked miles around the area, down to the Left Bank, each area having a different vibe. Paris really is a compact city, but don't try to see it all in a day or two! We deliberately chose not to book to visits this time to e.g. Eiffel Tower or the Louvre. Next time! French Architecture. French architecture is amazing, I don't even know where to start. Everywhere you look is beautiful and ornate, designed to bring you joy. Even doorways have a shabby chic-ness about them Cafe culture. Café culture is alive and well as we rested sore feet and watching the world go by. Coffee and pastries were delicious as were snacks. A Croque Monsieur at Cafe Zephyr took a cheese toastie to a new level. Menus are in french with english translation written underneath. Except Menu's are called 'la carte,' confusingly. Menu means something else apparently ~ think it's a meal offer from certain cafe's and Boulangeries. Accept your order as it comes, unless you're allergic to an ingredient. They really do know best and won't take kindly to being given 'orders.' Oh, and if you like ice in your drink you need to ask for it. We chose cafés and restaurants at random and found the locals were enjoying the food and ambiance too. A good sign. We found the waiters to be polite, friendly and helpful. Incredibly hard working, they managed Service with a smile without it all being a hassle. If you're unsure what to do initially, as the cafe's can look like organised chaos, take a seat and you will be served. The waiters seem to magically know you are there~they don't miss a thing. If a waiter is in the vicinity of a doorway, do know how to say hello in french and how to ask for a table ~ it will pay dividends and make your experience run smoothly. Once served, they will leave you alone (they are trained to do so), and will let you sit there without being hurried out. Oh, and it may take longer to be served than you might be used to ~ go with the flow, it's all part of the experience. You will need to catch the waiter's eye to ask for the bill. Know how to ask in french ~ l'addition s'il vous plait (sounds like ad-diss-e-on, run the syllables together). Or, miming the universal 'signing a cheque,' (not that cheques are used). We paid cash, but you can use a card. Tip culture is not a thing here ~ no working out 10 or 20 percent of the bill. A few coins is a nice gesture but not expected. The French and Speaking French. Listening to french voices and trying to hear what we could pick up and understand. I ought to say, Parisian's appear to be discrete and use their 'indoor voice' outside. The French do speak at a rate of knots. Tune in and listen for the key words to get the gist (if you're not fluent in French). Talking of communicating, even if you're hopeless at languages, it will help you considerably if you know the basic's. From our experience, they were delighted if we spoke a little french as it is seen as being polite and respectful ~ key factors in French culture. So, at the very least know how to say: Bonjour (Bon Soir of an evening) is the magic word ~ do not forget to say Bonjour before anything else and don't ignore if it is spoken to you, you need to reply with same ~ it really will help to smooth the way. Even entering shops expect to say Bonjour! S'il vous plait ~ formal french for please. Je voudrais ~ I would like...what ever it is, pointing at the menu or item in a shop. Je voudrais quelque chose ~ I would like something. Or you might say in a Patiserrie, "Je prende un croissant s'il vous plait." I'll take a croissant please. Not forgetting to say Bonjour first! I know I'm labouring it, but it is important. Merci / Merci beaucoup ~ thank you / thank you very much. Aurevoir ~ goodbye. You might hear added, bonne journée ~ have a good day, to which you can reply, "Et vous aussi," and you too. There's a lovely phrase you might hear while shopping, "Vous à trouve ton bonheur?" Have you found your happiness? The answer of course is Oui! Know how to count a little. There were only two of us, and entered a restaurant being able to say, "Bonjour, deux sur place, s'il vous plait," made our waiter smile, ushered us in with a huge smile and spoke to us in 'franglais.' They were delightful I must say. Parisian beauty. Parisian women have a natural beauty, believing skincare is more important than wearing a mask of make up ~ and it shows for they glowed! They wear style over fashion and look so put together ~ even teenagers. I suspect that considerable effort goes into looking effortless. Parisian men looked groomed and put together too, wearing a jacket and scarf just so. There has been much said about how the French stay slim, despite eating all the good food, including cheese, carbs and delicious pastries. They just don't eat 'goodies' every day. The other noticeable thing is, generally speaking, eating on the street or snacking seems to be a no-no. Maybe that is their secret. And wearing 'flats,' walking everywhere. Madame. Being called "Madame," was wonderful and an unexpected joy! It was polite and respectful, and made my day. In fact, we found Parisian's to be polite and not grumpy at all. I saw no evidence of women being harassed or stared at. Parisian smells. Paris smells nice! Perfumes, pastries, bread and occasionally cigar smoke. It did not smell of piss. Are men pissing in public a thing of the past. I hope so! Noisy! Paris is noisy though. Stereotypical sounds of scooters, vehicle horns and police sirens. The Police were visible throughout the City ~ not a bad thing. Smartly dressed and looked the business. You wouldn't want to argue with them. Paris Traffic. I'm sure there are rules of the road in Paris but you'd be hard pressed to know what they are. Traffic appears chaotic and every one for themselves. Zig zagging from lane to lane, however it does seem to work. Paris appears to have lots of 'one ways,' and narrow streets ~ apart from the well known Boulevards. Worth noting that if the light is green for pedestrians to cross the road, vehicles can still catch you out ~ they don't seem to stop pedestrian crossings. The Metro. The Metro (underground) system was easy to use and navigate. Quick, efficient and clean. 1.90 euro for all journey's and use within an hour and a half, I believe, which is long enough to get from A to B. From our experience you need to pay by card. Oh, and be aware there are stairs, lots of them. Oh Paris, I miss you already and can't wait to go back soon for a longer visit. We couldn't fault our visit at all.

This is not my usual blog. I felt I needed to say something regarding recent events. Yet I'm not sure I'm going to articulate fully what I want to say, how I feel. Women in the UK are saying enough is enough. We're calling out male violence, naming it for what it is. More than eighty women have been murdered in the UK since March. Two names I can't get out of my mind, and the countless names I don't know. I say a prayer for them before I go to sleep and think of them when I wake: Sabina Nessa. Sarah Everard. For those of you who don't know, who perhaps don't live in the UK, Sabina Nessa was a Primary School teacher who set off to see friends and never reached her destination. Sarah Everard was murdered by a serving police officer, who arrested her under false pretences. Abducted, raped and murdered her. I can't begin to imagine the grief their families are going through. I'm angry. Every women I know can tell a story or two of being afraid, scared witless. Every women I know has had a close shave, a near escape. Or worse. I'm tired of having to risk assess every time I go into a public space. What have generations of women told their daughters? Carry keys through your fingers. Don't sit in an empty train carriage, but also don't sit where there are no women around. Don't sit on the top deck of a bus alone ~ especially after dark. Don't drive your car on near empty ~ "just in case." Don't park in a multi story, or next to a van, or anywhere with poor lighting. Don't wear shoes you can't run in. Don't talk to 'strange men.' Be nice, 'Because he could turn nasty.' Guard your drinks on a night out. Go to the loo with your girlfriends so you're not running a gauntlet from the bar alone. Don't walk in dark areas. Don't take short cuts. Don't wear 'provocative' clothing, cover up. Don't keep telling us not all men are bad, it's not helpful. Don't just don't. The list goes on and on and on... We've normalised our defensive behaviour. The murder of women has been normalised. Toxic masculinity is killing women. Enough is enough. How about holding the police to account? How about the police put 'their house in order' by holding officers to account for their misogynistic attitudes. Which occupation has the highest domestic violence rate? No prizes for guessing its police officers. It's an open secret. 40% minimum of families of officers have experienced some type of domestic violence. The restraint they show at work is unleashed at home, and apparently that's ok. It's been reported recently by the BBC female police officers are afraid to call out their male officers for fear of retribution on the streets ( not receiving the assistance they require when needed). 1:3 women in the UK experience Domestic Violence ~ they are the cases we know about. Last year during the Lockdowns, women admitted to A & E (Emergency Rooms) following a domestic violence rose 33%. The stories I heard from colleagues working in these units are too graphic to spell out here. Suffice to say, hammers are often the weapon of choice. How about violence against women being taken seriously by our politicians, and others in authority, and not just offering soundbites and platitudes when 'another' women is murdered? How about only voting for politicians who can actively demonstrate action not words? 'Good men' need to be calling out their brothers for banter, 'joking around,' rape jokes, pornography. Where some men 'get away' with the small stuff, like 'flashing,' and so escalation of violence starts. It's the unsolicited 'dick pics' on social meeting. Sliding into DMs to share 'chat up' or porn. Using fake names and avatars as they think they can get away with it. How on earth do they think this is normal, respectful behaviour? Enough is Enough.

Just dipping in quickly to say, you may have noticed I've posted few book reviews this year, even though I've been reading lots! Perhaps I'm not the best book reviewer per se ~ I'm overwhelmingly positive and never give a bad review. If I read a book I dislike or couldn't finish I simply move on. For the most part, writers put a lot of blood, sweat and tears into producing a novel. Just because it's not to my taste doesn't make it a poor read. Reviewing books takes a lot of time I don't necessarily have. I would want to be considerate and thoughtful in my response to reading a book and was finding instead I was rushing through the process. It was time away from my own writing and reading for pleasure. Reading and writing go hand in hand ~ or it should do. So, for the foreseeable future I'm focusing on my blog and Instagram (IG) posts ~ where I engage most. From September, on a regular basis, I will be posting book recommendations on IG that I think others might enjoy too without writing a whole blurb. This will free up some extra time to focus on writing my own best seller! Let me know what you think

La rentrée means 'the return' or 're-entry' into life. The French use the term to signify going back to school, or return to real life following the holidays. I haven't been on holiday this year but come September, I feel a definite sense of shrugging off summer and nestling down, despite today being a warm 28 degrees outside ~ don't you just love an Indian summer! It has to be said I've been MIA on here, unintentionally, and it's done me the world of good. I've given my mind a rest, free from self imposed pressures. I was getting frustrated with writing, and worrying about querying. Trying to snag an Agent seems impossible, although I've had encouraging rejections ~ a contradiction in terms if every there was one. I kept saying to myself, telling people, I was about to start a round of querying again. Yet I couldn't press the send button. Then asked myself what is the matter with you? I'm such an over thinker. Missed last weeks 'pit mad' on Twitter too, though now have the next one on my phone's countdown for December ~ I will be ready. Plus, I've given myself a talking to ~ I need to go for it (round of traditional querying) one more time and if no joy, will put my manuscript to one side. Maybe it's not meant to be. While I'm overthinking the querying process (does anyone actually enjoy querying)? I'm distracting myself from continuing on with my Work In Progress (WIP). To be fair, I have been a little more proactive even though I was stuck in my second draft. I liked the basic premise of my story and thought it was a good one, not wanting to give up on it, but couldn't move forward. Earlier in the Summer I stumbled across two pieces of advice: Firstly, to paraphrase writer Dorothy Koomson, start anywhere. Start in the middle if you must, but just start writing. Secondly, 'Writers HQ,' if you're stuck, go back ten sentences and there will lie the problem. Both were not wrong. Realising my story could be improved by starting at a different moment, I reorganised the chronology. What was the opening is currently the closing chapter (and likely to stay that way). Chapters have been shuffled around, re-written if not cut altogether. What was the middle has been moved to near the beginning, and have a new opening chapter which works so much better than before. I'm giving all my characters a second thought ~ they must all prove their worth in driving the story forward or risk being premaritally culled! I'm now enthused about writing again, and can only be a good thing. La rentrée indeed.

I remember being sixteen and having cool friends where I worked in a bookshop, who were so different from me. Artists ~ painters and musicians ~ who went to art school. Who smelt of turps and oil paint. Who carried guitar cases and wore leather jackets. They actually played in front of a paying live audience! Didn't matter they might not have been any good, they had the balls to do their own thing. Meanwhile I was buying sensible shoes and a nurses fob watch, doing the right thing (who for)? Girls like me shouldn't fill their heads with stuff and nonsense, who don't write books others might actually buy. I remember being sixteen (younger in fact) and being told by my inspirational English teacher I had a "way with words" and "don't let it go to waste." I've often wondered how my life would have been different had I followed my heart, my passion and not conformed. People love to know who you are, or at least, who they think you are. They're reassured by defining you by your work, career, or whatever you choose to call it. Like you can only be understood, respected , if you earn in a way that somehow offers up a defined value for others. You are dumped in a box of convenience. Their convenience that is. I'd grown up at a time when working class girls were under a lot of social pressure to confirm to a defined norm of who you were supposed to be. It's not that far back in time either. I've been a 'Saturday Girl' in a hairdresser's and hated it, only lasting a few months. I was lucky not to have been fired for putting more perm lotion on a woman's hair instead of neutraliser. Oops! I left shortly after to go to work at a well known chain of Stationers instead. It did however pay a much needed weekly wage, and gave a lesson in how (some) women gossip and tear down others. But I had some money coming in. I trained as an 'old school' nurse under the guidance of dragon Sisters (if you know, you know). I've delivered over 500 babies (a fact that continues to astonish me). I discovered the value of discipline, hard work and offering service to others. All for an initial monthly pittance and a promise it will get better. I've been a Public Health nurse in the Australian Outback and discovered freedom. Freedom of attitudes ~ work to live, not live to work. The freedom to travel and be my authentic self ~ though I didn't know who that was yet, but knew she was hiding underneath there somewhere. Much later, I was a Lecturer for Post-Grad nursing students in London. Publishing Academic Papers I didn't feel naturally able to write, but was an essential part of the role (talk about Imposter Syndrome but that's a whole other story. It was, as you might expect, a different, jargonistic way of writing. Worlds away from being 'creative'). But I had money coming in. At one point, I'd done the expected thing and got married, followed by the unexpected thing and got divorced, had affairs, and never lived it down with family (who are they to judge? Glass houses and all that). I've discovered there are folks who really don't like women deviating from the norm and being themselves. It's worse still if you're related to them. But I had money coming in (just). Yet underneath all this I kept my dream alive. Noodled in note-books. Kept a journal. Noted experiences and their consequences. Observed people during their every day lives. Daydreamed through endless, tedious management meetings, pretending to be anywhere else but there. Faking interest and nodding in all the right places in boring conversations. I could function in their world, but it felt soulless. I read novel after novel, books that didn't involve Management Theories, or the latest Leadership Tools. Inside I was screaming my head off. Exhausted from working 18 hour days and dealing with pressures I didn't want to be under. Of feeling I wasn't being my authentic self. But I had money coming in. But then...I had money coming in and realised it's never too late. I'd gained all important life experiences. I was going to change direction, plus I had a financial safety net. "If not now, when?" I thought. I was going to be that full time writer after all. So I continue to read and write, write and read. Trying to cultivate a circle of writers around me, and for the most part succeeding. Wow, have I been on a steep learning curve or what! I took a reputable Writing a Novel course at Faber Academy in Bloomsbury. Publishing is a tough, cut throat business, but having met one or two sharks in a previous life, I've long grown a tough outer shell (I'm a pussy cat underneath though). The course offered invaluable tips and advice that money can't buy. A bonus too was realising I might actually be able to write after all, and fellow writers like what I produce. Makes my soul sing. So here I am, working hard on that road to publishing (if it's the last thing I do). "She smiles."

So grateful to have had my second COVID jab yesterday. Feeling perky this morning unlike last time where I fell asleep at the drop of a hat for two or three days. Felt like Alice in Wonderland's dormouse! I'm also relieved to have been offered the jab for the added protection and not least a step nearer towards normality. Shout out to our health service for being so efficient, capable and plain getting on with what they do best with a minimal of fuss. Talking of normality, can't wait to see my bestie in about 10 days time for a weekend catch up in Canterbury. As we live in different areas of the country, and what with all the different rules, lockdowns and so on, it will be 18 months since we've seen each other. 18 months! We usually meet every three months so it's been a very long time, so much to catch up on. We have chatted on the phone once a week for the past year and messaged each other, but it's not the same is it? It's going to be emotional meeting up face to face. So excited. Normal life does seem to be returning slowly but surely. This last week has seen an increase in DIY-ers and building work going on locally. I have builders on one side of where I live and builders on the other side of the street. Both homes are undertaking loft conversations ~ to be fair, one has nearly completed. They are considerate builders by all accounts as they try to keep the disruption to a minimum, but there's definitely an increase in background noise that's hard to ignore. What is a writer to do? When I'm planning, making notes or just plain people watching, I can sit in my favourite cafe and watch the world go by. Cake anyone? Oh how I've missed being able to do this! When it comes down to the nitty gritty of writing, getting the drafts and edits done, there's only one place to do it and that's home without distractions. I'm currently sitting tapping this out wearing a set of headphones playing earth sounds ~ rain and thunder storms. It's sooo relaxing and helps me concentrate, but I can't sit in headphones all day can I? I'll probably revert to my old habit of writing in the evening when it is more peaceful. I am a night owl after all.

"When you tell your truth it becomes part of your past. When you lie it becomes part of your future." Wish I knew who to credit for this quote but it sums up perfectly one of the themes for my Work in Progress (WIP). I'm exploring family frailties and the lies we tell to hide our shame, and the consequences of such behaviour. I'm triggered by hearing the saying, 'Tell your truth.' When I hear that phrase I'm certain the person they're talking to are about to start lying. What is truth but reality from your own perspective? The blind belief others have they are correct. Am I paranoid, or is this my protagonist talking? I'm making no apologies for a somewhat rambling posting. Stay with me. Lies never do stay quiet. They hide in the shadows of family history, for decades even, until sparked by an incident. How female friendships are not quite what they seem. Who do you trust? How to deal with betrayal? What happens when the past collides with the present? Does it end happily? Nope! I'd rather it ended realistically and appropriately, after all, life is not necessarily happy ever after is it? How to take these themes and make them my own? I've read so many thrillers / Domestic Noire this year ~ good and bad. Searching for the twist and turns. Looking at how the author exposes their themes and characterisation. Might be a great story but the characters have to keep up. If they're not credible, they fall flat and ruin it for me. How do I avoid making the same mistakes? What can I take from brilliant writing (they make it look easy)? I like to get inside my character's headspace ~ does that make me weird? I've become obsessed with finding out about family feuds. I'm staggered by how long family fallout's can last for, where the origins of an argument, a misunderstanding, are long forgotten. Everyone has their role to play in adulthood, adopting childhood realities. The role of parents, mothers, in creating unhealthy sibling rivalries. These questions and more I've explored during the writing of my first draft of Mother Daughter Sister. I've always been intrigued by family dynamics and the secrets held from public view. Does anyone really know what goes on behind closed doors? Once the outline of the story is in place I let the characters take over. They are strong female characters, flawed with a lifetime of experiences, driving the story along in unexpected ways. I'm being taken on a ride to unexpected places. Scenarios I hadn't originally thought of, yet they work. I did say this was a rambling post, but it does sum up writing first drafts and the accompanying thought processes. I've recently started the second draft, where the real work begins. No character has been culled as yet, but they have to make their mark on the story, earn their place or else. Let's hope my characters don't lie to me or let me down.