What’s in a name?

 Morning all…or whatever time of the day in your neck of the woods, hope you are all well.

(That sounds as if lots of people read this 🤔— but however many do…thank you.)

Anyway, it’s a real old ramble from me today. Or the wondering, thinking kind, not the walking sort— though I do try a bit of that most days.

Why do some names put you off?

Specifically people's names.

Now, I know it's a very personal thing. That some people just love a name and others hate it. I also realise that names go in and out of fashion. When I was a child, many moons ago, I had five girls in my class with the same first name. I also has a two lots of a girl and a boy with the same name, but with a different spelling. 

Got to be a bit confusing at times. 

But what I'm really trying to say, is why does a name put you off a character in a book.

(source: pinterest)

Sometimes, I reckon it's because it reminds you of someone you don't like for whatever reason. That's understandable. I mean why read about a hero who reminds you off a nasty kid at school who used to pinch you every time he walked by? Or someone you fancied and ignored you. 

Maybe you see a name as sounding prissy? Too posh, too complicated to spell or say. Too many people with that name. 

Or you just plain don't fancy it. 

It's a weird thing, really. The book sounds great, you read the blurb and then...ARGH. You can not read a book with a hero/heroine called whatever!

Or you're introduced to someone and think, hmm, I bet you do...(insert something that grosses you out) 

Even worse when a friend or thier family tell you the latest edition is called something you hate. Smile sweetly and say, oh how nice... through gritted teeth.

It must be even worse if a member of your family chooses a name you hate. Thankfully I've never had that.

But I have chosen not to read a book, and vowed never to call a character a name I don't like, even if it was/is in fashion when and where the book is set.

But neither would I use a name that wasn't of the era.

Which is right off topic, but when all is said and done...

what's in a name? 

Happy reading,

love, Raven xxx

 

As we remember them

 I didn’t want to take anything away from the importance of VE Day, but thought some of my parents reminiscences might be of interest.

My mum…a cockney born in 1925. Went to work for Dolcis Shoes in their offices.

After a few years sleeping in the underground each night—a specific one because her dad worked for the railways—she found herself living in an old house in Orlingbury in Northamptonshire with her workmates.

Her mum was so worried about her youngest out in the wilds (her words) she took herself and her other two girls to live in Kettering.

Bad mistake.

Her husband installed his lady friend in their house in the east end of London, and my mum (why she chose the youngest I have no idea—nor did my mum) and my nan were called back to see as my nan called her, the harlot in her, nan’s bed with a baby.

Divorce followed.

(Nan subsequently married the man who they rented half a house from, but that’s another story.)

Mum enjoyed her time at the hall. She and her best friend Kay, saved up their wages to buy clogs to wear. The older ladies who worked with them saved up their wages to buy the two girls slippers as the noise of the clogs were driving them mad.

Mum and Kay got onto several scrapes, non less than getting stuck up the wall around the house, and also getting  caught as they tried to sneak into the house after an illicit night out at a local hop! I’ve put that into Bomber’s Moon one of my Raven books.

There’s a lot more to this story…how mum met a yank and got engaged…how it panned out…meeting my dad later…me…

Me meeting a guy( in Scotland who was a ‘friend’ of my aunt when they lived in London…

But I’ll leave that for later…

Along with my mum and the yank, and my dads thoughts on the RAF,

Happy reminiscences,

LETS REMEMBER THEM

 love R xxx

Welcome back mojo

 You see the darned thing has been on a unauthorised holiday.

Just sloped off without a word of warning.

Disappeared and left me floundering.

And I didn't like it one bit.

Where had it gone?

And why?

Thinking back, it had gone on a bit of a go slow. Okay more than a bit. I was finding it harder and harder to fix on a story and write it. I'd start something, stop it, ignore it, cuss it. 

Drink coffee, go for a walk, read, shock horror, even do some ironing, read, knit...

But the writing just wasn't working.

At first I just made excuses. I was away from home. Didn't have laptop and found it harder to write on anything else. There were other things that needed doing, I was tired, didn't get up early...blah, blah, blah. 

Then I worried.

What if the mojo stayed away? Never came back to niggle at me or shout in my ear?

I didn't like that idea. But reasoned because the more I worried the less ideas I got, I'd be better not worrying.

Easier said than done.

However I concentrated on other things. Dabbled with some stories I'd begun, read up about some things I was interested in. 

Then a couple of days ago the lovely husband and I went for a walk at the coast near to where we live.

We headed for a cliff walk and a footpath in a valley down to a beach.

And I thought...'smugglers'. 

So when we came home, got out my books about smuggling in the area, and began to plot.

And thats where everything went off in a totally different direction.

I often find that as I'm falling alseep I get ideas for a story, that when I wake up, I find I've forgotten. I know I'd had an idea, not what it was. Which as you can guess is very frustrating, because of course those ideas were of course, best sellers.

But this time, I woke up with the idea for a story still firmly in my mind. Not just the smugglers, but the idea of them sent my mojo dancing.

I began to write.

Added some more in my mind that night. Woke up and couldn't work out why it actually wasn't written in the doc, I was so convinced it should be. I added it.

Hallelujah.

Welcome back mojo, please don't stay away so long again.

This story is for once, plotted out in my mind. And in some bullet points.

I'm not hurrying it. In fact I'm savouring every word I type. It might be a load of codswallop, who knows. But the important thing is, I'm writing again

I've got the hunger, the need to put those words down. To weave the threads of my ideas together and to create a story I hope others will enjoy. There's no gosl other tan that.

Oh except for me to enjoy writing it.

And I am

And on that note,

Happy reading,

love Raven xxx

All pics from pinterest, prior posts or my own collection

Likes and dislikes…of the food sort

 I was sorting out the fridge. Seeing what was near its sell by date, and yes, what was past it. My other half has a cast iron stomach, and a propensity to decide the day after I’ve thrown something out, to ask where it is and say he was going to eat it, to which my reply was and is, “It was off and now it’s gone.” (I must add I do know about sell by, use by, and my own version of advice which is sniff, and maybe nibble.)

I’ve resorted to a list sometimes, where I’ve put the date of things I know must be used up. Stuff you can’t freeze, fancy and then forget about, to find it lurking in the back of the fridge and looking a bit fluffy, or the wrong colour, 

However, that isn’t really what this blog is all about. It’s more of food people love, hate, or ignore. Not food they are allergic to, that’s for another day.

 For instance, any cheese in our fridge I ignore. I dislike cheese. So it could be so out of date as to virtually walk out of the fridge by itself. I wouldn’t know. I don’t like the taste of cheese, though I have tried over the years. Different cheeses, ages…no no thank you. As for cooking cheese?  Pass me something to block my nose!

The rest of the family think it’s weird, but then, they each have something they don’t like. Thankfully not detest!

And we all like treats.

It makes me wonder a bit. I mean my parents had cheese whenever they could. In a sandwich or on toast. Me? I’d go for bread and jam or toast, and sit as far away from the cheese as I could. So why do I detest it? I have no idea.

I did a bit of an ask around over food tastes and the things people came back with as dislikes, were varied. From cheese, pears, and salt and vinegar crisps, to cabbage, cucumber, and sweetcorn. The list is varied. 

It helps to make some interesting attributes to give to characters in a story. I must find about food loves next.

How about a salt and vinegar hating, pear loving hero?

Happy reading everyone,

Love Raven xxx

Should it stay or should it go?

 What you wonder? (Or if anyone reads this I hope you wonder.)

This blog.

The thing I agonise over every week, and have worried thoughts about.

As in, is it all a load of drivel? Does anyone who glances at it sigh and pass by. You know that sort of thing. Wish they’d gone fishing so to speak?

When I first stared to write, both books and the blog, I spent almost every waking minute, doing things connected with creating my stories. Writing, researching, editing, hosting on the blog or writing on it myself. I had lots of ideas and loads of time.

These days it’s not so easy. That’s not an excuse, it’s a fact. A rather unpalatable truth, but something I’ve had to face up to.

For a start, circumstances have changed. The lovely husband retired, so all those hours alone aren’t there any more. We do things together. (no sniggering please) We’ve moved house—oh those boxes to empty and find somewhere for the contents to live. Not easy when you downsize. 

Had some lovely holidays, 

Explored new places, and old.

Instead of my old routine of up, coffee write. Coffee lunch write. Quick tidy round and dinner, etcetera, it’s much less solitary and I would say both leisurely and chaotic depending on the ‘to do’ list.

And sadly I’m writing less. A lot less. Oh the ideas are still there but that fire and drive seems to have died a bit. Okay a lot.

Some of it is because of what I want to write and how. I’ve changed my style I guess. When I fist stared to write the stories were hotter, more sexy. Now I’m more into softer, rom-com sort of things. And my two major publishers don’t want that. So I think that took some of the urgency out of writing anything new. I’m playing around with ideas more.

Luckily for me, Bastet’s Quill Publishing are interested in some of my stories, so my name will still be around, and some new stuff getting out there, but no way as it was a few years ago.

I’m also lucky that some of my RavDor Chicks friends and co-members read and offer suggestions. Thank you, you know who you are! 

I’ve thought about this  ‘new era’ a lot. I could so something about it. Get up at silly o clock every day like I used to, and write before anyone else is up, but as I’ve become older, I’m more likely to wake up and read the paper or a book over that early morning coffee. The writing brain needs time to get going. 

Typically when it’s in gear, there’s something else that needs doing. Hey ho, that is, I’ve accepted, life.

I’ve also accepted that this new writing me, works in a different way, at a different pace. I still love writing Regency stories, just not hot ones. I have fun creating my places and people both for Regency times and today. I still love researching, plotting or winging it…but…The urgency isn’t there.

The ideas for my blog are hard to come by.

Sometimes I wish it was as it had been. But it isn’t and you can’t go back, only forward.

So I’ve accepted my writing is just as important as ever, but has to take its place in my everyday life as it is now.

And my blog? Well I’ve accepted the old five to seven blogs a week are gone for ever. As it seems are the hundred of readers they used to get.

But I’ve faced the fact that the one blog every week when possible is not that visible, and the things I blog—okay, ramble on—about are probably yawn making to a lot of people.

But I do agonise over them, try my best to think of something someone might read, even enjoy.

Do I succeed? 

No idea.

Do I carry on?

No idea.

What do you think?

Hope you all (if anyone’s got this far), have a great day.

Happy reading,

Love Raven xxx

Every photo...

 Can bring back memories...

plus sites—and sights, scents, sensations, scenarios and sweet memories.

Or bad ones but I'd rather concentrate on the positive.

And think...

(source: pinterest)

What bought this about?

The lovely husband was tidying his desk and found an old hard drive. which was full of photos from anything up to twenty or so years ago.

And every photo brought back memories. Of fabulous holidays, and experiences like street food in Singapore. The Night Market in Hong Kong, watching a shoal of fish turn a placid english river into something like a whirlpool. 

Street signs, a junk in Hong Kong Harbour, Tring a zip line (Never again)  And as I looked through the photos I could imagine what it was like.

I remembered food, parks, animals and birds. The sheer joy of discovering somewhere new. Even now I'm thinking how lucky I was to go to somewhere different and fascinating.

The picture of me holding one of my earliest paperbacks, gave me the sensation of the smell of a new book. 

Looking at a photo of a cake and I couldn't remember who made it and why. That was (and still is) frustrating.

Then there's times I had to go back to where I thought of something, because I'd forgotten what it is I wanted to do after seeing something in a photo. (Or even just thought of something and forgotten it before I got to where it was.)

Some photos I'm sure I've got a dozen of, taken at different times of the day, and different years. But each one evokes a different memory.

Walking on the sands in Barbados, going again at sunset to see the 'green flash' as the sun disappears. 

Remembering the sound of the waves, the fish market and the live music.

 
Heading to Devon and watching the fishermen go net fishing, 

Going across the river on the ferry and using the area in my Devon Trilogy. (Written as Katy Lilley)

So of course I then got out the box of snapshots.

Old Photos of my family, from Grandparents, to the present day. Imagining I could smell my late mum's favourite perfume. Remembering how she'd go to the hairdressers and the same day, a few hours later, go swimming. 

Looking at wedding photos and feeling the silk petals of a corsage, how my feet hurt and I kicked my shoes off as soon as I could.

(No I'm not showing that photo)

Rain on the patio, with the Christmas lights twinkling  and the scent of fresh earth once the rain stops

I could go on and on, but I won't. Because The rain has just stopped, the earth and the lawn have that gorgeous 'just soaked' scent, it's time to go for a walk.

Happy reminiscing,

Love Raven xxx

Those first few words

 This last week I've been plotting in my head, and making some notes about a story that's been in my mind for a while now, but I've not got any of it down 'on paper'.

Or anywhere else

But I've read a lot of books and drunk a lot of coffee.

If I'm honest I've been struggling to get anything written. Lots of starts, no substance. (And not been that eager to make myself sit down and get on with it.)

However, this story I'm determined to write and finish. I like the idea I've created.

That's easier said than done. I've played around with the first chapter umpteen times and been dissatisfied with it. The delete button has almost worn out. 

I'm lucky that a good online friend is always happy to read and give me some advice. I'd written the first couple of thousand words—again—and asked her if she'd help.

Bless her, she said yes, read it and gave me some great advice. She'd picked up the bits I wasn't happy with, and a bit more that didn't work and suggested some ideas for me.

It's given me some good things to ponder. 

Helped me realise I do want this story to work, and that one of the things I'd missed was getting into the head of my character(s). They played a little role in an earlier book—Second Chances for Lottie Botte—. She's what we in the North East and Scotland would call a 'nippy sweetie'. 

As I read those few words over again, I saw I'd not shown that at all.

So, it's second chances for my new story. And maybe third and fourth. Until I get her character right, and a hook, that grabs the reader and keeps them wanting more!

Wish me luck.

Happy reading,

love, Raven xxx