Writing and walking holiday and more

Up and running in my hotel room!

 I am writing this blog post on my very old laptop which still runs on Windows 7, is painfully slow and some of the letters have rubbed off on the keyboard. The other day it spent ages updating. The touchpad no longer works, but thankfully my hubby had a spare mouse. I'm only using this laptop to update my blogs because I can load up my photos on it. I've been without my 'proper' laptop for two weeks now, and guess what? They can't find the fault! Having spoken to a couple of people, it seems they too have had similar problems with their screens and they just switch off and on again. Oh, well, time will tell, I guess.

So, I've been back from my writing and walking holiday for a week now. Our group consisted of eight women and one man. One of the ladies was also our walk leader. We met every morning at 9.30am and worked until 11am. Each day we covered a different subject - Ideas & Inspiration, Character Building Structure & Plot, Setting and Dialogue. Our tutor, Lizzie Enfield, explained each section and set us timed exercises. We would then read out what we'd written and she'd feedback on it. Lizzie offered great encouragement and advice. Some in the group had never written creatively before, but you wouldn't know it from what they wrote.

All of us had one-to-ones to either talk about our writing or for Lizzie to give feedback on a piece of work we had submitted before the holiday. My one-to-one went well and the feedback was positive on the opening of a short story I had written. She made several suggestions and I will be looking at those again.

In my free time I found inspiration for writing a poem and brainstorming other things. I was in the zone!

Brainstorming session which led to the piece I read out.

Afternoons were either a guided walk or free time. We had a complete day off on the Wednesday. The walks were a chance to get to know each other better and to talk about writing or other things. Lizzie came out with us too. In fact, she is a qualified walk leader, but decided that running the class was enough, as walks have to be checked and there wouldn't be enough time. This was even more important last week as the rain had made everywhere wet and muddy. Some fields were waterlogged. Gill, our walk leader, went to check how bad things were, and there was one day when we were clinging to a fence in order to walk round the worst of the mud. You could feel the mud sucking at your walking shoes/boots. There were some hairy moments, but no one slipped. We all helped one another. Very bonding! 

Mud! Lizzie (right)

More mud - three formed a chain to get me across

Boat race

I opted out of the first walk, due to the weather, but a later walk covered some of that ground (but less muddy), so I didn't feel I'd missed out at all. There were three walks planned, but our leader slipped another in. We always set off from the hotel in Bourton-on-the-Water and walked locally. If you want to know more about the walks I have been slowly writing about them on my travel (blog https://pieceoftheattraction.blogspot.com/2024/03/birdland-model-village-and-other-views.html)

Two evenings we met after dinner when Lizzie read from articles and short stories she had written, or from her books. These sessions was opened up to others staying at the hotel. HF Holidays own most of their properties in the UK, so other residents are on guided walks, self-guided walks, special interest holidays or walking & sightseeing. On our last evening we were all invited to read something we had written during our week there. I was using my old Android Tablet and I had saved my piece twice, yet when I came to look at it again and to edit, I couldn't find it. The other copy told me that part of it was locked. How had I locked it, and how did I unlock it? I had no idea. So, I wrote it all by hand (500 words) and tried to remember the last edits I'd done on the missing copy. But then I began editing the written version until it was a complete mess. When I had some spare time, I typed it up again. This time I also saved it my portable external hard drive and took a photo of it on my mobile! When I went back to it later, I found it! Joy! 

Everyone was nervous reading, but it was only our group. We didn't have to read it to others in the hotel (which we all thought we did!). It was a lovely evening and afterwards Lizzie gave us all inspirational sticks with different sayings on them (see photo). No one wanted to leave. The group had gelled well and we now have an email group so we can all keep in touch.

Inspirational sticks

I'm the winner at skittles!

Other evening entertainment included a skittles night, which I won (bottle of plonk). I was amazed! There was also a quiz night. Good fun, but my group came joint last. The questions were very random and hard. They seem to get harder each year (I've done quite a few over the years). The house in Bourton always runs a boat race too. Many people made boats out of paper, sticks, plastic and all sorts of stuff. I didn't make one, but a lady in our group won best presented boat and another from our group won the race and had to wear the Commodore's hat during dinner! I went down to the river to watch the boats launch (from one of the little bridges) and followed them down to the end. Walk leaders fished them out with nets, though a few got away and they had to race to the next bridge! 

I came home exhausted, but it was a lovely holiday with such contrasting things going on. I even bought a sketch pad and coloured pencils and drew (very badly). 

Writing in bed!

Away from the holiday, I've been trying to cope with the online writing course. I missed week 5 because there was just too much to cope with and also the lesson was to write in the style of another writer. It's taken me long enough to find my own voice. I couldn't see the point. I've just submitted my piece for week 7 with just two more weeks to go.

A few weeks ago I met up with some of the people doing the same online course in order to form a London support group. We met in a cafe in Tottenham Court Road and discussed the course, what we were writing etc. I think there was about eight of us. Tomorrow Indie Novella is running a writers and book fair in Islington Library which I and some others from the group will be attending. There are some free talks on offer, plus agents and books. I'll tell you about that next time.

Finally, last night I attended a poetry talk and readings at Southwark Cathedral. Padriag O Tuama read a few poems from the book Poetry Unbound His talk was interesting and he spoke also with the Dean of Southwark, Mark Oakley, who does a bit of writing himself. Of course I bought the book.

Southwark Cathedral

Update on writing and book reviews

 I have been writing. Oh yes, I have! While waiting for feedback on my Christmas themed novella, I went back to something I started at least a year ago. It will be part of a trilogy, and this is the last part. I'm about half way through now and these three stories are my first foot into a bit of horror. Getting back into it was a struggle at first, but I'm making headway now, though as usual I have no idea about the ending. 

Some weeks back, I went to an event at the Southbank Centre entitled Can Poets Speak to Trees? The event was hosted by Nina Mingya Powles, a writer and zinemaker from Aotearoa in New Zealand. Unfortunately one poet, Elizabeth Jane-Burnett (author of Twelve Words for Moss) was unable to attend, due to the train strike, but another poet came (sorry I forget the name) whose views were very close to mine on the state of the planet. The other poet was Pratyusha, author of Second Memory. The poets began by reading from their books before going on to discuss their poetry and the many aspects of it. These included which season were they most driven to write, how their poetry relates to the planet and trees, and if indeed we can speak to trees. I think the upshot was that we don't really understand the language of trees, though we know a fair amount about their relationship with fungi and the wood wide web. We know they sense things, like invasion, from insects, and can pass this information on to other trees (much like plants do).

It was a fascinating talk. The floor was then thrown open to the audience to ask questions. One question was: do you have hope for the future? One answer was yes, but not for us. The earth will survive very well without us. And that has always been my view. We need the planet more than the planet needs us!

I found the session very inspiring and already I could feel 'tree poems' bursting in my head. In the past I have written a succession of tree poems, which was why this talk interested me so much. I now have very rough drafts of another four poems to work on.

After the talk, I decided to re-join The Poetry Library. I was a member years ago, and in fact still have my original orange card. It fascinated the lady on the desk as she'd never seen one before. The Poetry Library has thousands of books, as well as study rooms and shelf displays of poetry magazines. At first it was a little overwhelming to know where to start, but I borrowed a couple by well known poets to get me started. You can borrow up to four books for four weeks. They also run events throughout the year with visiting poets and discussions.

Book Reviews

The first two books are related, though one is fiction and one is non-fiction. They deal with pre-historic Britain. I've had a fascination for the stone age since I was at junior school, and I've read many books about pre-history and where we as human started. My favourite fiction books were the Earth's Children series by author Jean M Auel. I remember reading The Clan of the Cave Bear avidly, and it is still my favourite book of all the series. It takes you back to the time when mingling between tribes occurred. The girl Ayla, was rescued from an earthquake by a woman of the Clan. The Clan speak mostly in grunts. Ayla was different, from a new tribe, more like us and the books follow her journey to adulthood. I could not wait to get my hands on the next book!

The first book, The Gift of Stones is a reminder of those times and is about a community of stone tool makers, knappers. The main character lost an arm as a child when he was shot with an arrow by one of the traders. The arm had to be amputated. The boy had never had the gift of stones that the others had, and was a bit of a dreamer. As he grew, the community thought him useless as a worker. One day on his wanders, he came across a woman and child living on their own. The father had gone to trade with his two sons and had never come back. The character begins to tell stories about his adventures to the community. He becomes their storyteller. One day after a raid he brings the woman and child back and for a while they live with his uncle, until the woman builds her own house. The story is told through the eyes of the woman's child. From my reading other books, I'm guessing this story is set in Neolithic times, just as the end of of the stone age, where it begins to overlap with the bronze age, as towards the end of the book the community come into contact with metal arrows. It is the main character who leads them out of their quarry when they realise that trading flint is no longer viable as metal takes over. This was a very different kind of book, by an author I'd not known before. An interesting read.

Ancestors: The Prehistory of Britain in Seven Burials by Professor Alice Roberts, looks at the remains of burials from stone age through to pre-Roman times. She talks about who first discovered the remains (interested clergy and Pitt Rivers are mentioned), their attitudes to sexuality (males must have been the warriors), grave goods, religion and death. It was a fascinating read. Professor Alice Roberts has, of course, appeared in many TV programmes on the subject of pre-history. She talked about how we must not have preconceived ideas about what we find; about how technology has advanced so much from those early days with  the regular using of Carbon 14 dating, and more recent advances that will tell us even more.

The final book I want to mention is Nightwalking by John Lewis-Stempel. Split into the four seasons, the author walks the fields with his dog catching glimpses of wildlife we would probably not otherwise see. He walks in rain and snow, and the heat of a summer's evening. Nothing stops him. There are also diary notes from each season and a glossary at the back of the book. The prose is beautifully poetic as the author describes his surroundings and the animals he sees. You feel you are with him. I also love the front cover! This is a keeper.

February slump

 I'm in a bit of a slump right now. I don't seem to be able to find a direction. I have pieces ready to send out, but cannot find the right place to send them. Either submission windows are closed or I don't see me in that particular magazine. I'm loath to send to anymore competions at this time. Has anyone else noticed how entry fees have gone up? I did send to one competition this week, but I cannot justfy spending that much every time. I have to weigh up the fee against the prize (and my chances??). 

Even my projects have come to a stand still. However, I am toying with the idea of taking an in depth Flash Fiction course. It's expensive, hence the hesitation.

However, a few good things happened at the end of last month. My poem, How it Began, was published by Amethyst Journal. This poem came out of an article I read which fascinated me. When people ask where I get my ideas from, reading is one of them. It can be very random, and certainly this poem wouldn't have been written had I not read the article.

The other great thing was attending Out-Spoken at the Purcell Room at the Queen Elizabeth Hall, Southbank Centre with a friend. We found out that this is a monthly event, and we enjoyed it so much we are going back again this month!

Kim Moore

The evening consisted of three poets and two musicians. I'd particularly wanted to see Kim Moore, whose poetry book The Art of Falling, I have read. This time she read from her latest book, All The Men I Never Married. I loved her quip to the late arrivals, 'Sorry, you've missed the penis poem', or words to that effect! During the interval, I bought her book along with Improvised Explosive Device by Arji Manuelpillai, who was the first reader of the evening. His poetry was like nothing I had heard before and based on extremism, and why people act the way they do. He'd interviewed people including Tamil Tigers and an EDL member, and researched articles.

Arji Manuelpillai

Mark Waldron's started off his session with a poem about a Lawnmower Museum. It was so funny everyone was roaring with laughter. He had a mix of funny poetry and poetry taken from folk and fairies tales. I particularly liked his funny poetry. It makes a refreshing change, as most poetry is serious and often dark.

Mark Waldron

The musicians were Jay Verma, a UK-based jazz pianist, and Jamie Leeming, a jazz guitarist. I'm not a fan of jazz, but I wouldn't have called Jamie Leeming a jazz guitarist. I enjoyed his music, and was fascinated by his use of a loop machine.

Jamie Leeming

I found the evening inspirational and it left me with a buzz. It's good to see what poets are writing these days. 

Finally, I have been asked my Mothers' Union Branch to give a talk on my writing experience, so I have been busy putting together information and making A5 booklets with a combination of flash and poetry I've had published to give away on the night. I should add that I've been a member of this branch since my eldest son was a toddler. I'll tell you how it went next time.

Now back to the slump!