Jaye Marie's Blog, page 38

The First Plot Point (Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 5 of 12) – by K.M. Weiland…

The First Plot Point (Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 5 of 12) – by K.M. Weiland…

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What Writers Should Know! Part Nine: Self-Care

What Writers Should Know! Part Nine: Self-Care

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Sadness

Sadness

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I Had these Good Intentions…

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After the dismal failure that was last week, I was determined to yank up my socks and do something constructive this week. I even went so far as to order the wooden struts that I need to replace on my bonsai shelves. They’re not coming until next Saturday, which was disappointing. I suppose I could start by dismantling the ones that are slowly rotting away, and I could make a start on preparing the wall for yet another coat of paint.

The trouble with this idea, is that all of this takes place out in our yard, and I need to stay indoors in case Anita needs anything. She hasn’t been at all well lately. It’s a bit touch and go between the two of us, as there seems to be a competition going on to see who can shuffle off first. At least that’s what it feels like, most of the time.

A funny thing happened on Saturday. I received an email from Amazon.com saying that the book I ordered was on its way. One of my books, BTW, one I didn’t order but was thinking about! Are we getting AI doing mindreading now?

There have also been some serious hints dropped about the state of our hedge. Hints I am trying to ignore, for our neighbour is usually kind enough to cut this hedge. For some reason, he hasn’t done it this year. Maybe it’s the awful weather? I don’t fancy shinning up a ladder, but I suppose I will have to, soon…

Thanks for listening!

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Sunday Blessings… #Quote

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Knowing… #Poetry

One of my favourite, all inspiring of Anita’s poems…

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Old Age, old house, old memories…

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I have noticed lately that our house is starting to look rather shabby. The paintwork looks dull, and the walls have seen better days. As for the grubby ceilings, well, it makes me giddy even thinking about trying to paint them, now I’m an old lady!

I remember the good old days when climbing up a ladder was fun.

My mind took me back to the early days when we did so many silly things, trying to put food on the table when the kids were small. I remembered the house we were hired to decorate. Gloss paint on all the woodwork and expensive wallpaper on all the downstairs walls and, of course, the stairs. Nothing complicated, we thought. It was a piece of cake.

I am very tall, but that doesn’t help with old houses with high ceilings.

We had a ladder, but that wouldn’t be any good on the stairs. Then I remembered the exercise bar we had at home. The kind that spans a doorway so you can do pull-ups. With some luck and a following wind, we could clamp it across the stairs to take the other end of our scaffold board. Make sure it is firmly fixed and level, then we could balance the stepladder on it to reach the top of the wall.

At this stage, I must confess that I don’t like heights. I get nauseous and more than a bit giddy, but we needed the money.

Praying to all that was Holy and armed with a carefully pasted and folded length of wallpaper, I ascended the ladder. It was very wobbly, and I expected to fall and end up in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, wrapped up like a parcel in soggy wallpaper.

Those of you who have papered a wall will know that a fair bit of stretching goes on as you align the paper, trim the top and smooth all the bumps and air bubbles away. Several times, I swayed precariously on one leg but completed my mission.

What I didn’t know at the time was all the near-heart-attack moments that Anita was having as she tried to keep the ladder steady. She was in the perfect position to see just how dangerous it was and how close we were to disaster.

We had fun in those days, taking incredible risks and doing impossible jobs. This job was memorable for another reason, too.

The house owner had celebrity friends, and they would often have to duck under our ladders as they came and went. The best day was when Bucks Fizz visited, and Mike Nolan signed his name on Anita’s arm! They signed their latest record for us and told the world about the crazy girls decorating their friend’s house!

So, taking risks was worth it that day!

Not every job had such high spots. Like the time Anita knocked over a tin of white gloss paint all over a dark chocolate-coloured carpet! The owner caught us trying to scoop up the paint with spoons, and we expected our marching orders (or worse!)… But they couldn’t have been nicer about it.

It’s a lovely memory, but not much help with our shabby house!

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Those were the days…

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Inspirational Quote By Jean-paul Sartre: “Life begins on…”

Inspirational Quote By Jean-paul Sartre: “Life begins on…”

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Reading ‘The Mercy Chair’ by M W Craven…

In an act of defiance against never having the time to enjoy a good read, I deliberately chose a book I knew I would enjoy and forced myself to ignore everything else. This was easier than I thought, probably because I’m not writing anything at the moment.

Are you sitting comfortably? Then he’ll begin . . .

Washington Poe has a story to tell.
And he needs you to listen.
You’ll hear how it started with the robber birds. Crows. Dozens of them. Enough for a murder . . .
He’ll tell you about a man who was tied to a tree and stoned to death, a man who had tattooed himself with a code so obscure, even the gifted analyst Tilly Bradshaw struggled to break it. He’ll tell you how the man’s murder was connected to a tragedy that happened fifteen years earlier when a young girl massacred her entire family.

And finally, he’ll tell you about the mercy chair. And why people would rather kill themselves than talk about it.
Poe hopes you’ve been paying attention. Because in this story, nothing is as it seems . . .

My Review

I adore M W Craven’s writings. The attention to detail, the amazing humour, and the dedication to crime mysteries, a delight to read. And such a wonderful cast of characters, too!

You don’t just read a M W Craven story. You are a part of it, there in the thick of it.

Crimes perpetrated in the name of religion are the worst kind, and The Mercy Chair gave Washington Poe a case that was hard to handle. A case that was almost too cruel for me to read.

This latest Washington Poe story is, without a doubt, brilliant, the best I have read this year. I hope there is another one in the pipeline…

Although, there are plenty of others for me choose from!

Hopefully, reading this amazing story will get me in the mood for more reviews. If anyone has a new release coming out, I would love to review it!

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A Mean Visitor… #Anger or Depression?

I was decidedly not myself yesterday. I wasn’t ill, yet I didn’t feel right at all.

And after such a lovely family visit too, it didn’t make any sense.

As the feeling increased, I began to realise what it was. I was angry, very angry. It had been so long since I had thrown all my toys out of the pram that I hadn’t recognised it.

For the life of me, I couldn’t think why. We usually know what has ruffled our feathers, don’t we?

There had been a couple of annoyances that morning, but nothing major. As the feeling continued to grow, I became really worried. I was mad enough to do something drastic, like attack someone.

Anita was giving me a wide berth so she could feel it, too. What the hell was going on?

Half an hour later, after several Rescue Remedy drops, Kalms and some strong coffee, I didn’t feel any better. I was craving alcohol, and I hadn’t drunk anything stronger than white wine for years. Was I becoming a different person?

I have been a bit of a manic depressive over the years, usually with good reason. I can normally keep it under control. Whatever this was, it wasn’t my old friend depression.

This awful feeling stayed with me all day, but thankfully, it didn’t get any worse.

There is no sign of it this morning, and I hope it stays away…

I’m so glad it didn’t last long…

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