It's the first IWSG of the New Year! Happy 2014 to anyone I haven't visited yet this year!
Thanks as always to Alex J. Cavanaugh and to all the other administrators of the group.
This month is a time of New Year's Resolutions and positivity - a time to turn over a fresh page and enter a new mind-set. In this vein, I'm hoping to feel a little less insecure this year. I've done a lot of thinking and have had a long break from writing (which did me a lot of good) and have managed to feel a lot less 'keyed up' about writing. There is no pleasure in it for me when it becomes a compulsion - and I do not want to lose that pleasure! A schedule in my diary, an old kitchen timer to write to and a fresh approach are how I'm starting this new year.
Good luck to everyone with what they want to achieve - and if I can offer you one piece of advice, it is this: write the way that suits you, in the amount of time that suits you, and try not to resent other areas of your life for infringing on your writing time. I used to obsess about word-count each day - now I am content if I have moved my story on, whether that be by adding 1000 or 200 words. Moving forwards is the key, however small the steps.
Wishing you all a Happy Writing New Year.
Thank you for visiting!
Wednesday 8 January 2014
Wednesday 1 January 2014
Just for Fun... New Year's Haiku
Happy New Year! I hope 2014 brings you all everything you need or wish for :-).
In the interests of stretching my creativity, I have decided to include some haiku in my blog every month in 2014. Call it a New Year's Resolution!
Now, I know there are some rules around haiku, but from what I've read it seems that they aren't set in stone. I understand the lines should flow into one another without stops and starts, although I have read many where this isn't the case. I hope you will forgive me any glaring errors in the form and it would be fabulous if you would like to contribute some haiku yourself in the comment box.
Yesterday, the last day of 2013, my husband and I took advantage of an hour or so's break in the persistent rain we have endured throughout the Christmas period and escaped to the countryside for some air.
Today's experiment is an offering of 5 haiku, inspired by yesterday's walk. (The photos were not taken yesterday, but on a December walk in the same place a couple of years ago.) Thanks for being here and for reading!
A Walk in the Country
Chilled beyond the bone,
bright cheeks, frozen toes and ears,
crisp grass underfoot.
A church spire, lonely,
spied across a furrowed field,
dark clods stiff with frost.
A soup of wet mud,
boots slipping in the scramble
to claim grassy verge.
Determined boxer,
face screwed, eyes wild with delight,
escapes to greet us.
Hot breath on cold air,
pub fire, conversations hum.
Refresh, refuel, thaw.
(The pictures are taken between Dedham and Flatford, the home of John Constable the artist and subject of many of his paintings.)
In the interests of stretching my creativity, I have decided to include some haiku in my blog every month in 2014. Call it a New Year's Resolution!
Now, I know there are some rules around haiku, but from what I've read it seems that they aren't set in stone. I understand the lines should flow into one another without stops and starts, although I have read many where this isn't the case. I hope you will forgive me any glaring errors in the form and it would be fabulous if you would like to contribute some haiku yourself in the comment box.
Yesterday, the last day of 2013, my husband and I took advantage of an hour or so's break in the persistent rain we have endured throughout the Christmas period and escaped to the countryside for some air.
Today's experiment is an offering of 5 haiku, inspired by yesterday's walk. (The photos were not taken yesterday, but on a December walk in the same place a couple of years ago.) Thanks for being here and for reading!
A Walk in the Country
Chilled beyond the bone,
bright cheeks, frozen toes and ears,
crisp grass underfoot.
A church spire, lonely,
spied across a furrowed field,
dark clods stiff with frost.
A soup of wet mud,
boots slipping in the scramble
to claim grassy verge.
Determined boxer,
face screwed, eyes wild with delight,
escapes to greet us.
Hot breath on cold air,
pub fire, conversations hum.
Refresh, refuel, thaw.
(The pictures are taken between Dedham and Flatford, the home of John Constable the artist and subject of many of his paintings.)
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