Paula R.C. Readman's Blog, page 32

A Review of The Funeral Birds

I just had a wonderful surprise this morning one of my first internet friend, Carl, send me a message to say he had selected my novella The Funeral Birds to a YouTube review for his new channel. Please do check it and let me or Carl know just what you think of it.

Carl does a lovely reading from my Gothic Crime novella. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Thank you.

White Notley Church

This morning my friend, Ana and I walked to White Notley Church. The weather was overcasted and threatened rain, but we decided to risk it. By the time we arrived back at our village it began to rain heavily.

St Etheldreda Church.

St Etheldreda Church is built on the site of the earlier Roman temple. St Etheldreda was a East Anglian princess, also a Fenland and Nothumbrian queen and Abbess of Ely. The church dates from the 10th century. My friend and I walked two and half miles from our village and back in two hours and forty-five minutes. We followed part of the Essex Way a footpath which is a long-distance path stretching from Epping to Harwich a distance of 81 miles.

I thought this window was amazing as it has a wooden frame.

In-between

It’s an odd time for me at the moment. I haven’t been on the internet much as I’m in between doing things. I finished my last painting and started a couple of much smaller one. My mind wasn’t really on painting as I didn’t want to start anything major because I was told by my publisher that he had sent my novel The Phoenix Hour out to another editor. So I’ve been waiting for its return.

I’ve been busy rethinking my new Granny Wenlock novel as I’m not sure in which direction I want to take it. I’m trying hard not to keep writing the same book over and over again. While I’ve been busy painting I’ve listened to a lot of audio books. I started with the Agatha Raisin collection by M.C. Beaton, then worked my way through Simon Brett’s Fethering collection before moving onto Ruth Rendell, Agatha Christie and Colin Dexter.

After awhile you begin to recognise the writing style of each writer especially when they are writing a series. I began to hear their familiar phrases, not just something a character’s said like a catch phrase, but the way the author described something. Also I found you began to work out the plot and what characters are likely to have committed the crime. I’m not saying the books are less enjoyable because of it. The books were very entertaining and I was disappointed when I had finished the collections.

I’ve been getting back into walking, too. After four years of owning my new camera I finally took time out to read the manual so now I find it far more enjoyable to use. Yesterday, it was a very misty morning as we set out to walk to one of the local churches. The churchyard was carpeted in the most beautiful collection of flowers, daffodils, primroses, and forget-me-nots.

Cressing Church

On Thursday we are expecting snow as the temperature has dropped after some lovely warm days. I have vegetables I’ve grown from seed in my cold frame so I’m hoping they will survive this sudden drop in temperature. I have several new projects I want to do in the garden this year as well as growing my own vegetables.

It’s my writing group tomorrow so I’m hopefully my friends inspire me to get writing again. I’ve a little downhearted with writing as I’m finding it hard to market my books. I don’t have the money to pay for big promotions through all the different sites available online. I didn’t realise how costly writing can be and how time consuming the different stages of novel writing was for so little return. I’ve decided to write much shorter books in the future.

Chat again soon.

Bluebell Wood

At last I’ve finished my painting of the bluebell wood. I have filled the wood with plants and animals I’ve seen. I used photos I have taken and the figures are inspired by a Victorian painting called the ‘primroses.’
It’s illegal to pick or dig up bluebells in Britain as they are protected species. Bluebells leaves are delicate and if crushed they don’t survive. Spanish Bluebells have escaped from garden and are putting English bluebells at risk. English bluebells wood took hundred of years to be come established with its diverse plants, insects and wildlife.

Now I must focus on my writing. I have two coming out this year. one in June, not sure as yet the second one.

Have a wonderful day. Catch up with you again soon.

Come into the Garden

Yesterday and this morning the garden called to me. The brightness of the sun and the warmth in the air give me the incentive to go and tidy up the garden. First of all, I thought I would just fill some pots to put on the window ledges in the kitchen and my art studio to sow some seeds in. I’ve planted tomatoes, butternuts, pumpkins and some beans to start of indoors. My greenhouse is full of plants that couldn’t be left outside over winter so I can’t get in there just yet.

The garden looks so much better since I’ve cut the lawns as the grass was getting quite long after all the rain we’ve had. The first cut of the year never leaves the lawns looking good but still it was lovely to be out in the garden especially with he first signs of Spring and the birds were singing brightly.
Of course, Brutus was keeping me company. When I got the ladder out of the shed to get a plastic bag out of a tree after the strong winds had put it there, he disappeared into the shed.
It was a good job I spotted him over why he might have been locked it. The shed is full of Russell’s car boot stuff. I can only get into the first part where my lawn mower is kept along with my garden tools.

I’ve dug over the vegetables plots and trimming back the dead plants and pulled up a few weeds. I’m a lazy gardener and just leave the garden to do its own things while I keep it in check.

Back to my painting this afternoon. It’s going well. My novel Seeking the Dark has crept back up the chart. I just wish it would go up to the top of the chat

Bye for now, chat to you soon,

Paula R C

In The Bluebells Wood

I’m busy painting a bluebell wood. We have three close to us here near our village. Bluebells show you how ancient a woodlands is and their bulbs are a protected species under the wildlife and countryside act 1981.
The English Bluebell’s sap is sticky and made an ideal glue for fastening flight feathers to arrows fired by medieval archers.
I want to add a few little creatures to my painting as well as details of other plants and flowers also found in the woods too. It’s going to take me a few more days before it’s finished, I’m enjoying the process. Amazingly, I’ve had three people inquiring about painting commissions which has been surprising as I’m still finding my feet.

My unfinished Bluebells Woods

Writing News:

My third novel The Phoenix Hour has been accepted by Darkstroke and is due out at the end of June. I’m looking forward to seeing what the cover of my new novel looks like and of course I will share it on here.

Keep safe and enjoy everyday

The Miller’s Daughter

Today I’ve been busy writing a magazine article about the mill where I grew up. I found a free-magazine which is available in Chelmsford which has a readership of over 10k. I got in contact with the editor and asked if he would be interested in me writing a piece on the Moulsham Mill and he said yes.

Moulsham Mill

I’m quite excited as its the first nonfiction articles I’ve written for a lot time. So fingers crossed that he accepts and it’s published.

Number Three Now Finished

Today I’m starting a new painting. Yesterday, I finished my Gray’s church and Granny Wenlock’s grave painting.
The idea for the painting came from my novella, The Funeral Birds.

This morning I shall find inspiration from my many photos. I’m looking for a landscape but what I shall do is mix and match the photos until I’ve created my painting. I’ve some ideas of what I might paint but I’m not sure yet.

I have some writing news to share with you, but I not ready to share yet.

Have a peaceful day, I shall chat again soon.

My First Novel Certificate

Yesterday, I received my novel Seeking The Dark award certificate through the post. I’m so chuffed with my achievement.
When I left school I had no qualifications and my handwriting looked like a five year old. I was ashamed of myself and had no idea what my future would hold. In the last few months while attending my junior school I was tested for dyslexic but this information wasn’t passed on to my secondary school.
After years of working in low paying jobs, I set myself a challenge to see if I could get something into print. I had been researching my family history and submitted several articles to a Family History magazine. These were accepted, published and I was paid for them too.

After running out of ideas for nonfiction articles, I decided to write a novel. Having no idea how to tackle this challenge I began reading second-hand books my husband bought off EBay on ‘How-to’ write to be published. After reading over 250 books Russell told me to get on with the writing as he wasn’t going to buy me any more books.

In 2005 I wrote a short story and took it into work for my friend Lisa to read. She like it but wanted to know more about the character. The short was called the ‘Girl on the Bus’. The short story then turned into a 129k word manuscript. I sent it off to an American publisher who gave me some great feedback but told me it was too wordy. I had no idea what that meant and realised I needed more experiences and a better understanding of the publishing world. So I focused on writing short stories to learn the skills needed to write and edit a novel.

In 2010 I entered the English Heritage writing competition and was one of fifty winners out of a hundred-fifty entries. Then in 2012 I was the overall winner of the Harrogate Crime Writing Festival/Writing Magazine short story competition.

Seeking the Dark no: 22 out of 50

After writing and having over 100 short stories published I turned my attention back to editing three novels I had written to put into practices what I had learnt. Seeking the Dark has gone through many rewrites and was published last year. Being my first creation I have been nervous about sending it out into the publishing world. I’m so pleased it has won this award and has helped to keep me moving forward with my writing.

https://mybook.to/seekingthedark

My books has been accepted into the libraries in Essex. I was over the moon when they were accepted and wish I could show my school teachers what I have accomplished on my own, and with some help from my husband Russell and neighbour Joan who proofread my writing.
I can’t thank my readers enough for all the encouragement I had received on my writing journey.

Peace and happiness to you all.

Paula RC.

The Tales of Two Cats

Please allow me to introduce you to Brutus originally known as Muffin. Yes, I know. Does the name Muffin match the character of this battle scarred cat. Not at all.
Let me start at the beginning. Brutus or should I say Muffin didn’t belong to me, but a young woman who had two young daughters. My husband and I led busy lives both working full-time and often we would go away on holiday and weekends. Being responsible people we decided not to have pets.

Then Willow entered our lives. Willow a skinny black and white cat was found curled up on our patio chair most mornings nine years ago. Russell and I weren’t sure whether she was a stray. At the time we had as many as ten different cats that wandered through our garden. They had a path that ran around the back of the garage, across the end of the garden and over the fence via an apple tree. When I had a little dog, Annie she had put a stop to cats coming in the garden. Annie has been gone many years ago, and I never wanted to replace the un-replaceable.
Anyway, back to the two cat. One day I found a skinny black and white cat eating bread. Cats eating bread didn’t seem right to me. My husband kept seeing the cat we named Felix watching for us. Whenever we went out it would watch for our return, and appear like magic. It wasn’t very trusting at first. Russell bought some cat treats and fed it. I was nervous about this and decided to investigate. I noticed the cat came from a certain house and discovered that the cat called ‘ Flump’ and wasn’t a stray but according to its owner ‘It’s always hungry and belongings to my daughter (a five year old)’

I’m Brutus.

So my husband and I stopped feeding the cat, but Willow as I called her wasn’t having any of it. If the kitchen door was open she would come in. I would sit on the floor and talk to her. Over time she came into our lives and stayed. At first you could only stroke her head. It took four years before she trusted me enough to pick her up. ( She still doesn’t like strangers and will hid from anyone she doesn’t know)

Back to Brutus/Muffin. Now Willow hates Brutus she always lets him know he isn’t welcome. Brutus would appear in our garden battled scarred. Often with blood on his ears, a cut across his nose and licking his wounds. It why we called him Brutus. One winter I found a very ill Brutus sheltering in my compost bin, I went to tell the owner.
Yep, you guessed it the owner was the young woman with the two little girls. ‘I’ll come and see him in the afternoon.’ She called from her bedroom window. She never came. I gave Brutus a bowl of food and made sure he was dry and warm by improving the shelter around him. Even Willow looked worried about him as she sat by me whenever I took food out to him.
Brutus made a full recovery and I was able to cut all the mattered hair off him, and de-flea him. He would return home to his old home, but most of the time I would find him somewhere in my garden.

Hello, I’m Willow

Then one day when my son was returning from the village shop he saw the young woman trying to get Brutus into a box. Her boyfriend said to my son. ‘Does your mum want another cat!’
My son said, ‘You better ask her yourself.’
The young woman said ‘She had one of my cats she’s not having another one.’
They moved out of the village taking Brutus with them. I texted my husband at work to tell him what had happened. He texted back ‘Well I *@£( hope they take good care of him’.
When Russell arrived home from work he opened the back door and called to me ‘Look who I found on the door step!’

It was months later we found out the woman and the boyfriend had brought Brutus back the same day and dumped him in our garden.
So that’s how two cats from the same house came to live in our home, five doors down from house where they lived in as kittens. After a visit to a vet to end Brutus’ fun, he is now chipped with the name of Brutus Readman. He’s such a softie. It took him ages to understand he can come and go freely. At first he was happy to sleep outside in all-weather but just lately he knows if he appears at the door at the time Russell locks up at night he can come in. The house is divided into two as Willow doesn’t like Brutus to be in the same room as her. They both defend the garden from other cats and will fight them off.
Today Brutus is sleeping in the bathroom after being out all night, while Willow is sleeping in the art room.