One day at a time

The death of my mother has taken me a lot longer to come to terms with than I’d ever expected and I’m still not fully recovered. I’ve hardly written any short stories for the past eighteen months and have been relying on reworking of old stories to keep me going.

During my recent break in Scarborough I wrote four stories. I’ve been working on them slowly. The problem is they’re not ‘great’. I can always tell when I write a really good story. I get a special kind of feeling when the words really flow. I didn’t get that this time.  Writing them was hard work. That doesn’t mean they won’t sell. It means they probably won’t sell to Woman’s Weekly, the magazine I use as my benchmark. This morning I’ve been working on story number three and the good news is that it’s improving. All the little touches, the subtle turns of the plots are trickling back and maybe just maybe it will end up as one of my ‘good’ stories; one I can be proud of. The proof, as they say, is in the pudding i.e. will Woman’s Weekly buy it? I’m taking my time so that it will be as good as I can make it before taking that rather scary plunge.

I know that if I could get back into the story writing groove I’ve feel a whole lot better. When the words flow, and I know I’m writing well, that gives me a buzz and a buzz is something I really could use at the moment.  

My new garden is proving to be both a nightmare and a potential treasure. A nightmare because there’s still a lot of hard work to do, by which I mean digging up unwanted plants, moving others, making borders, removing a thorny edge and so on, some of which I’m having to pay a man to do as I simply don’t’ have the skills (or the muscles) but a treasure in that it’s already one of the best gardens I’ve ever had. I haven’t been able to plant much in the way of fruit and veg this year as I hadn’t organised the bed but I’ve still had a decent crop of raspberries and strawberries, and my tub of mange tout gives me a portion of peas every day. The blueberries are swelling too.  

Today I’m feeling a lot better. I’d love to say that I’ve turned the corner but I’ve thought that before, but even one day feeling positive is a start.

This afternoon, it’s East Leeds Writers. They meet at Seacroft Library (3.15, all welcome, Leeds LS14). I haven’t been for months! Today, even if it’s boiling outside (which it is), I’m going.