The gorgeous time suck of research.

 It was only supposed to be a quick look at a jeweller's catalogue. I needed to check I'd got the right birthstones for the central characters in the story I'm half way through writing.

(source pinterest)

But once I checked those, well then of course I carried on looking. At bracelets and earrings (my personal love). Then I moved on to china and then of course decided I needed to find when a certain manufacturer started, whether it was still in business and where. 

Three hours later I hadn't added a word to my WIP, but I'd drooled over some old Wedgewood, lusted after a Sevres bowl, liked some pretty china mugs and realised that even if I could afford half the things I saw—and I can't—I'd be scared to use then and scared to lose them. I'm better off sticking to good old M & S or in the case of mugs, whatever supermarket has some that catch my eye.

I also realised that although I didn't need most of the information I'd learnt about the things I'd lusted over, I had needed that time just to enjoy the  browsing, as well of finding out information I did need. 

It got me fired up and ready to get stuck into my WIP. As well as giving me the opportunity to get my facts correct.

Sometimes a few stolen hours like that even up not being stolen at all but invaluable. not only for what you may or may not learn, but for recharging.

And now I've recharged, I'm off back to my Feisty heroine who is about ready to spit tacks.

Via the kettle and the cafetière of course. 

(Source:Pinterest)

I let two cups go cold when I was ah researching.

Ate the biscuits though.

And on that note,

happy reading,

love Raven xxx

How I got the muse moving...

 Via an overheard conversation, a motivating telling to, (or should that be telling off) and a cold and glorious sea side walk. It gave me some ideas.

 (photo: Joanne Robinson)

I had no idea what to chat about today, then two good friends both gave me suggestions, which although different, work together.

The first was how I got my mojo back, motivated my muse and got it moving. (Lots of 'M's' there, but it is now my motto! Remember the 'M's'.

The second: how I use the things I have seen on my travels over the years to set the scene. Base towns and villages on places I've visited or lived, get my geography correct, use my personal knowledge to create my story's setting.

                               Scotland                                      

(Hong Kong)

(Devon UK)

(Barbados)

When I thought about it, I realised how one doesn't work without the other. Well, not for me.

What got my muse back and raring to go?

Or should I say who?

It was several things.

The fact a fabulous ex-editor is opening her own publishing house—Bastet's Quill— and I want to write something for her. 

I was (and still am) writing a Regency story about a lady smuggler, set on the Yorkshire coast. I know where the story is going, am half way through and it's like walking through treacle. This is a moment a lot of writers struggle with, and usually I can climb out, go upwards and onwards reasonably easily well after only a few days moaning and groaning)

This time my muse shut up shop and remained stubbornly closed. Went AWOL

I even wrote bits of the story to be slotted in when I got to where they might be needed, but oh could I find the words to get to any of them?

No!

I thought okay then, time to think of something else.

Then, by one of those lovely quirks of fate you sometimes get, I overheard a conversation between an adult and a toddler of about three or four years old. It went something like this... 

Child: "Freya says shut eyes go there."

Adult: "Where?"

Child: "Where want to. Sneazland." 

They moved away and I pondered about that. Dreams? Senses? Connections?

It got my muse thinking.

Sneazland? Hmm.

I found a picture we took a few years ago on a dream holiday in New Zealand. The Wanaka Tree. Not on this one, but  somewhere there's even one with me on the shore line in front of it. 

My muse perked up even more.

I've used the Wanaka Tree elsewhere in a book. could it appear in another one?

Why not? The stories aren't even remotely similar. And let's face it there are lots of stories set in the same place by lots of people.

So I'm writing. And I know the facts will be accurate. Ive been there, seen it, got the photo.

Take Hong Kong... or Barbados, or...well any of the places I've been lucky enough to visit. 

I make notes. Copious notes. Take photos. Lots of photos. I am a great fan of notebooks. I've got a shelf of them. Some used with titles like Shaldon (a village in Devon), Pismo Beach (California), and Great Ocean Road (Australia).

Other's are a bit more cryptic.

Inside I've got info I think might come in handy. As well as a lovely way to remember all the great places I've been fortunate enough to visit.

I'm also a terrible eavesdropper. Some of the things you overhear make your eyes boggle and your jaw drop. But I store them up and hope tht one day they might come in handy.

And they are often a good way to get the muse into gear.

As is asking people to give you say ten words and you write something of 100, or 500 words or whatever with those ten words in it. A mate got  best seller after she asked me to give her 10.

And now, after writing this, my muse is screaming.

She's in Wanaka. What next?

 I better go and find out.

Happy reading,

love Raven xxx

(all pictures, copyright Joanne Robinson or Pinterest)

Where it was almost 'Gone Fishing'

 But on reflection and a stern talking to—not quite. 

(source: pinterest)

It was a close run thing at times. 

I had no idea what to blog about, worried I was boring the pants off the few (thank you) people who read this and did a big nail bite, drank coffee and thought hard.

My conclusion?

Of course I'd like to be able to produce a witty or thought provoking blog every week—or even just sometimes. 

I'd love to get hundreds of people reading it, commenting on it and looking forward to it.

But you don't always get what you want in life. (Hey I'd also like best sellers, and to be able to write lots of words every day, none of which were typos or needed a massive delete session, but I'm not delusional.)

However, what I do have are some people who read or glance at my blog every week. some who say they like it.

So for them the blog is here. And for anyone else who happens to chance upon it, please give it a chance. It's often about 'stuff'. Makes sense (I think) and is a good read. (I hope)

I'm in the middle of writing a Regency story about a lady smuggler on the East Yorkshire coast, so there's been a lot of visits to places like Hornsea and Bridlington and the surrounding areas. 

Visited Bempton RSPB and marvelled at the sheer cliffs and the birds that inhabit them.

(source pinterest)

I've discovered a lot about the lost villages of the coast—many of the cliffs crumble—and realised that it's still happening today. In one village a whole street is in danger of collapsing onto the beach in the next year or so.

(map on Hornsea sea front)

A road I remember driving along twenty or so years ago when we were visiting the area, doesn't exist. Big danger signs are posted on farmland,and if you walk along some of the beaches you can see where more rocks have fallen.

There's even a caravan or two teetering on an edge.

Scary stuff.

But as I discovered in my research, these Yorkshire people are made of hardy stuff.

They do and did just get on with life.

So when my lady smuggler gets accosted by excisemen...

Well you will just have to wonder...what next!

Happy wondering,

love Raven xxx

Where I wonder where the words have gone

 Half a century and a bit ago (blimey) I had an English teacher who said words are precious, so use them wisely.

(source: pinterest)

Not only can you play with them and sometimes make them up (hogglepodgepot anyone?), they can cheer people up, emphasis actions and explain things. But, they can also hurt. The way they are put together is important. 

The teacher added, 'Remember you can use words over and over in whichever way you choose, but how you use them will be in some way, how you as a person are defined.'

(source: Pinterest.)

At the tender age of elevenish I confess it was all a bit above my head. I loved writing and making stories up, weaving a pattern with words and painting pictures with them, but didn't know that was what I was doing—defining me.

Then I was told my essays were too flowery, too wordy (yes really) and not concise enough. I had to relearn how I used those precious words.

I suppose that was why it took so many years for me to say sod it and start playing with words again.

Now I can't imagine not deciding what words I want to sit next to each other. How a group of them make a sentence, then a paragraph and eventually a story. 

It's magic!

Sadly, sometimes it's also hard going.

Lately, those words have been most reluctant to come out and play. They remain stubbornly in my mind, and refuse to be put into words (that sounds daft but I hope you know what I mean.) The latest WIP should be called WNIP (work not in progress) It's been sulking at around 6k.

It was darned frustrating. I knew the story, I even knew how it could end. I just couldn't get it out of my mind and in print.

I could have had a stern few words with those words. A bit complicated but you get the gist. Why was it so difficult?

After all, I've just written this.

At first I thought it was because I had so many other things on the go. Then that the story I was attempting was rubbish. Then that I was in a holiday mood (which is crazy as I usually get up early on holiday and write before anyone else is around) Then I thought, 'stop making excuses, you just can't be bothered.'

So I left the story alone, flirted with another one, gave up on that as well and read instead. Did some puzzles, crosswords and so on. Drank coffee. Read some more.

Decided there was no point in worrying that my words had gone AWOL.

Then suddenly a few days ago, I woke up in the middle of the night with the whole story in my mind. Thought, yeah, yeah, if I remember any of this in the morning it will be a miracle. How many times have I written a book in my mind at night and not remembered any of it?

Too many.

But, I remembered it.

All those lovely words coming together and weaving a picture in words. Not the picture I thought it was going to be, but a fresh one. Hopefully a better one.

And those first few K that stumped me?

I've given them a stern talking to, mixed them up, saved some, let others have a holiday and introduced new ones.

So hopefully as from today, they will behave. Let me use them and give them new companions. Let me add to them, and then several thousand of them later, chose two of them so I can type

'the end".

If you'e waded though all this, if you read my blogs and or my books, then two more of those words are heartfelt.

Thank You.

Happy reading,

love Raven xxx