Wednesday, 13 March 2013

It's been a long time

Hey kids,

Sorry I've been so absent. Do you ever go through stages of just not being able to write? That's how I've been for the past year or so. I go through stages of either writing loads or reading loads. I've been through a lot of books this year and am currently reading Claire E. Smith's The Duke's Trumpet. A gripping read so far but because I would talk with her as she was writing and planning the novel it's made me realise that I need to get on with mine.

It's been long enough now that I've had time to get my head around Sanctuary. I know the technological advances I'm going to make to the base and the characters. I just need to get the peril sorted.

Another friend of mine said she was planning on writing a novel and it got us talking. I said that I wanted to get back to writing 750 words per day but it was so difficult when I wasn't inspired. She said that instead of trying to write some of the novel every day, just work on it. Genius! So I've just finished an hour-long planning session in the middle of my day.

I think I'll be back for a while now. I'm feeling inspired. I want to get this draft written and beta'd to see how it pans out. I'm currently writing a scene-by-scene plan that I can follow. I think there's one plot thread missing, but hopefully I'll be able to find that before I finish. It's the piece of the puzzle that will cause peril and give the characters something to fight for.

I'm now self-employed (woohoo!) so finding time to write should be much easier... in theory.

Monday, 22 October 2012

Oh how I've changed!

I know a lot of you were really enjoying this blog and I'm so pleased that I've kept you all on GFC. I've taken a break from the creative writing side of things. I did work a bit on Heat of the Moment but just hit a wall around the 30k mark.

I know how I want it to end but I just don't know how to get there. I'm not inspired by it at the moment so I decided not to force it.

I started my own business, Jet Social, where I get to write wonderful things about cars, fashion, technology and marketing (as well as providing other services like web design, proof reading and PR) so that's taken up most of my time.

Ever since getting feedback about Sanctuary I've been itching to get writing but have just been stuck on the big bad thing that can act as something to rally against.

Last night I had a dream that just outlined everything perfectly for me. It cemented a character relationship, answered questions about the other people in the world I've created and inspired me to get writing.

NaNoWriMo is coming up so I'm going to use it to get the bulk of this rewrite done. Not much is staying the same, really and I'm going to be introducing a new story arc into it. In the first version there's a character that comes into it about halfway through but his back story is interesting with loads of angst so it's worth showing that.

It'll also give readers a valuable insight into the world and will show them how little the main character and those around her really know about the world they are living in.

I'm currently writing out the scene as it played out in my dream, although it is likely that it would never get into the final thing. For now, though, I need it out of my brain space.

Friday, 13 July 2012

FFF: A doctor's feelings

It's been a while since I've done some flash fiction but I was oddly inspired today. As always, I appreciate feedback.

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When I first started treating Fabian I'd been told he had amnesia due to a head injury. It took a while for it to become clear that his head injury hadn't affected his brain and that the memory loss was down to something else. I tried to delve into his dreams to get a better understanding of what his subconscious had done with those memories but the dreams were disturbing and twisted. They couldn't be memories, they were too fantastical but they did give an insight into how his mind was projecting terrible thoughts as a way of dealing with whatever trauma he'd been through.

Now that the hallucinations have come to light I suspect his illness is more along the lines of PTSD. Although, without any knowledge of his background I can't be sure. I think he's beginning to remember more and more but he's not talking about it. I feel we have become friends but now he seems more closed off. I think he thinks he can get away with not talking to me now. He completely closes down and now that he has a job, there are times were I barely see him. He gets out of our sessions because he says he has to work.

I didn't want to push him at first because I know that he struggles to talk to me. He still feels like I am going to judge him. He doesn't realise that talking about what is going on in his head is a way to exorcise it. When he was forced to talk to me it helped.

I am fond of him and I think letting him move into my house may have been a mistake. He sees us as friends. The doctor/patient relationship doesn't seem to apply, in his eyes, any more.

I probably was quite ignorant to how he'd react to this new found freedom. He's doing well and, in most ways, he is coping. He's fantastic at his job, he has colleagues who love him and he has a social life. However, there are small areas of his life where he still struggles. He can't be on his own and if he is then he seeks attention. His reaction to authority figures is getting better but he's had more than one run in with his boss and there have been multiple times where he's ended up screaming at me.

The search still continues for his identity. His name brings up nothing and we can't get anything from the tattoo on his shoulder. I first thought it might be a prisoner's number, it had that sort of format. Firstly, though, who would tattoo their prisoners in such a way? And secondly, it doesn't match up with any prison   in the world. At least not one with records. It could be the number is something to do with slave trading, which would explain a lot, but something tells me that's not the case. He's not submissive, he's not weak. His memory loss might make him very different to his former self but I can't imagine him being forced into servitude by anyone.

I do think my relationship with Fabian has become a little inappropriate. I'm trying to keep my distance from him and let him get on with his life, job and new friends. I'm there as his doctor and only that. We became too close and I think that began to affect his treatment. I'm tempted to refer him to another doctor, it would be the best course of action for his treatment but I can't help but feel he needs me.

Perhaps I should speak to him directly about me continuing his treatment. The fact that the hallucinations are getting so violent that he is hurting himself is worrying enough but the fact that he won't talk to me about any of it makes me wonder if he'd speak to another doctor.

As far as I'm aware, he's keeping most of this from his colleagues. He's just said he doesn't remember who he is and gives no reason for it. I wondering if the memories are coming back and he's struggling to deal with them. They're manifesting themselves as horrific hallucinations.

I was only present for one, the rest have been while Fabian has been on his own. The one I witnessed was violent, Fabian was thrashing out as if attacking some unseen assailant. It was a glimpse into how he was feeling and it terrified me. I should've been calm and collected about the whole thing but I was worried for Fabian's safety. It's starting to hurt me just to think what he's going through and I hate that I can't be objective anymore. I care about him and I want him to get better but because of that I'm struggling to help him.

Friday, 2 March 2012

Research and absence

I was doing some research for Sanctuary (an excuse, really, for not writing) while in London. I floated around Westminster, hopped through some Tube stations and was filled with glee when I found a pub call the Sherlock Holmes.

I also found this:
  IMG_2928
A real Sanctuary on top of my fictional one. There's also a pub nearby of the same name. I don't know what to think or say! It seems like I have inadvertently given my location some back story without knowing it. Perhaps the base was named after the location it was under.

I haven't really posted here because I haven't been writing. Not properly anyway. I've lost all want to write the novels that I've been working on and I have no desire to start anything new. I have been writing down anything that does come to me but generally it tends to fall into the realm of fan fiction that I'd never share. In fact, my 750words is full of awful drivel but at least I'm keeping the words flowing.

I also entered a Future Food writing competition. A short piece that I quite liked but don't expect to get anywhere with.

I suppose I have to keep slogging away hoping the muse will return. For now it's snippets of novels and all the fan fiction my head can contain. I think if work were less busy then at least I'd be able to force myself to write. However, I've never been this busy. I'm exhausted!

Monday, 28 November 2011

Misty drabble

This is a very short Sanctuary-based thing I attempted on 750word.com. I like the writing but I just don't have the motivation to continue with it!

The mist was grabbing at the buildings, pausing at the open roads and swirling across to engulf them. The road changed from bright and glorious to shrouded in a fuzzy, suffocating grey. They moved through each of these patches, unsure as to whether the brightness of the sun was best or the cover of the mist.

Ryssa didn't mind either. She was still revelling in weather and sunshine, it was keeping her mind off the things she'd seen over the last 24 hours. There was no way that seeing this world for the first time in 20 years wasn't going to be a fantastic distraction.

The captain moved up alongside her. "Everything all right?"

Ryssa looked at him, his face and hair were damp from the wet air but his eyes glittered with the same excitement that she was feeling. "Fine, sir."

Update - Reading not writing

I think my muse has been stolen by all the books I've been reading. I've read some fantastic stuff over the last few months. Namely The Book Thief. What an utterly amazing book. A fantastic point of view, beautiful writing and a story that made me cry!

I'm now working my way though Clash of Kings by George R. R. Martin. I'm enjoying it more than Game of Thrones (which I read after I'd seen the TV show) but it's so long! I'm half way through and already itching to read one of the other new books I have.

I have been writing. I'm about half way through Tain's story and am beginning to consider rewriting Sanctuary. I've got ideas for it, lots to change, more baddies and general peril. I'm glad the ideas are coming but I'm still not ready to give it another go.

Writing has just been difficult. I thing GRRM has stolen my mojo. I can't even write the drabbly bits of Flash Fiction I love so dearly. I'm focusing a lot on my fashion blog and I am buying a house so there's lots in my life that's just getting in the way of writing.

I've got ideas and stories in my head but when I sit down to get on with it I'm hit with a huge sense of apathy. I just can't be bothered. I may leave it for a while and not bother too much about getting on with anything until after I've moved. Hopefully once that's all sorted and Christmas is out of the way I can get on with Tain.

Friday, 16 September 2011

The Crash

I'd left work, it had been a stressful day. The sky was clear but it was beginning to get dark, it seemed like the perfect time to go for a run. With work being so busy I'd been neglecting my fitness regime, I was going to take this time to zone out, to just think about the burn in my muscles rather than everything else I had to deal with.

My plan was to run through the suburbs, towards the city and back. I was running down a road, one not often used by cars. My feet crunched over  fallen, orange leaves and trees hung over my head. There were a few houses down that road, each of them had a dog tied up outside. Those dogs barked at me as I ran past. I remember thinking how weird that was. Why were all those dogs outside?

I paused to catch my breath as I came out of the trees. I could see the city ahead of me. There was a shuttle being launched, one of those huge ones that was probably carrying all sorts of cargo up to the space station. At first I didn't realise quite how lethargically it was moving. It was climbing at an angle I'd never seen from such a large space shuttle. It climbed and slowed before arching over the city. I realised what was going on. Gravity grabbed it and began to sink downwards, now picking up pace.

I knew I should run, get away from what was no doubt going to be a huge explosion. I doubted that the crew would be able to right the ship now. But I couldn't drag my eyes away as it sunk behind the trees. Moments later a cloud of fire and smoke shot upwards and the ground shook. I could feel an immense heat, the smell of smoke filled the air and the sky turned red.

I began to run, north and away from the city. Back home. I wondered if my father had the sense to leave his lab and make his way home at a normal time. God, I hoped so. I spared a quick thought for all of those in the blast radius. Even I, a few miles away, could feel that heat. I was still worried that a ripple of fire was making its way towards me. I ran faster than I ever had before and didn't stop until I'd arrived at my house two miles away.

I tried to ring my father but the line was dead.