Thanks for this that and a lot

I thought this week it was time to thank all those people who over my life have helped me (and maybe hindered but it all came right in the end) encouraged me and not actually influenced me per se, but shown me that sometimes there's more than one way to do something successfully. 

Not always a big thing, but something that helped. meant a lot, and stuck in my mind.

From being a child and learning adults can be bitchy (oh yes they can) but your parents understood and accepted what you said.

To a schoolfriend standing up to a bully, to giving you a cuddle when your boyfriend ditched you.

And as a grown up (if I ever really grew up... the jury is probably out on that one) being able to moan cuss, high five and talk things over with someone you trust not to share what's bugging you.

I've been lucky that way.

Especially when fourteen years ago I met a group of people who all wanted to write and yes of course be pyblished.

We all entered a competition, none of us won anything, but we formed a group to help and encourage each other. 

Take a bow The NutHouse Scribblers.

Gradually a fair few of us got published. Great rejoicing all round.

When I finished my first full m/s then my fellow scribblers helped me edit it, researched the best place to submit it to and yay, it was accepted.

There was a lot of celebrating for each and every one of us.

(Not just at New Year)

They helped me more than I reckon they ever knew.

As did my publisher and editors. The late lamented, Breathless Press gave me the determination to try various sub genres of romance and at various heat levels. And the sense that I could and should carry on writing. Not just for them, but to spread my wings.

Which I did.

On the way met a lot more of those amazing people I'm thanking, without mentioning any names. Because I'd be sure to forget someone important.

Thank you all xxx

I DID!

forget someone or some thing important...

Doris O'Connor and my lovely facebook group,

The Ravdor Chicks

Take A Bow

Thanks all of you for your help and support.

You see it's not always necessarily help in a big way. Although when people give up their time to read over something you've written and can point out your errors etcetera, check your knitting for dropped stitches and fix them, sort out a lock that's stuck, a leaking tap or welcome you to a village, club, society or whatever, it is so welcome!

Sometimes it's as little as one word. Good, or even nah. Or just the knowledge they know what you are going through. Plus, if they can't help you knowing someone who can.

Therefore to everyone who has helped me in my umpty-tiddly years on this earth, and of course to you my readers, both here and of my books. Without you, there would be no Raven McAllan, author. Or indeed, Kera Faire, Katy Lilley or for YA J. Lilley, so

thank you

Love Raven xx

 

When you look back and remember…

 Sundays of long—and not so long—ago.

I'm in a bit of a nostalgic mood today, not sure why,

I think it was listening to the Young Chorister of the Year competition on the radio that set me thinking.

Christmas is coming and all that. But memories weren’t just about the season.

They are Sunday School on a Sunday afternoon. The drunk who pressed a squashed bar of chocolate into my and my mate’s hands and how our parents told us to put it in the bin and gave us the do not talk to strangers chat. Actually we hadn’t, he’d just lurched in our direction, told us we were Bonnie Lassies and given us the chocolate bars.

Of no shops open in a Sunday, of moving to Scotland and finding shops were open, pubs shut at 9 ish and on a Sunday you could drink on a pub but not buy alcohol to take out.

I think a lot of these Sunday memories are because the news I thought I saw the other day was about one of the Scottish islands was only just about to get a Sunday service. (and I can’t now find that item saying which one)

It reminded me of what we didn’t and didn’t do.

Lots of reading, walks and picnics.

Sunday roast and the remains as cold meat or mince on a Tuesday.

I’m not saying it was better—or worse—than today. Just different.

Like getting a new Christmas jumper or a bonnet for Easter.

Happy reminiscing,

Love, Raven xxx

When it’s time to make another list

  Perhaps I should add NO just one list.

That says in big, bold letters—

JUST GET ON WITH IT!

Really, it should be enough. 

The trouble is, I am a list maker. If only I was a list follow-througher as well. It’s very easy to make them, but oh, boy, does it need an iron will to get on, do what’s listed and cross it off until the list is no more.

And I can say, without a word of a lie, I am not the best in the word at doing that.

Oh I can write the list, without any problems. 

Something like this.

Some of the things are more appealing than others.

 

I can soon cross off hunting out the new notebook, and deciding what’s for dinner. As in doing a rummage in the freezer.

Writing…Hmmm that’s not always so easy. Rereading?

Maybe. I need a coffee to do that

Ooops, forgot to add drink coffee to list. But then that’s a given.

The permanent marker? That’s not so easy. Where did I use it last?

Stamps. When I drive to the next village where I may or may not find a birthday card. 

Odd socks? Forget it. Not worth it. 

I never get them matched properly.

As for ironing?

That is always at the bottom of the queue.

After a blitz (or half a one) I end up with something like this…

How do you go about it all?

happy list making…oh, and afterwards I wrote 2k,

Love, Raven xxx