A book for all seasons?

 It's May.

We've had several days of wearing factor 50 and walking by the coast or sitting outside in the garden. 

Sometimes in the shade.

Reading a good book, and at the appropriate time, a G n T or an AF spritzer.

Then today? Brr It says it's warmer than yesterday, but it sure doesn't feel like it. 

Jeans and a jumper. That's indoors.

It's typical of course that when it was hot, I was writing a chapter in my WIP where the weather was cold.

Today? It it's a day of writing about picnicking by a stream and having to sit under a tree to get some shade.

I am so grateful for a good imagination!

Just a short post today. the weeding, the writing and feeding the fish beckons!

Have a great day, take care and...

happy reading,

love Raven xxx

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