Don’t Worry, I’m not gonna burst into song – My last post was prior to my dog suffering a dramatic death. I was back in the DARK WOOD again for those that don’t know this location it’s where the wild things are and where army veterans and their families pitch their tents. It’s very lonesome and frightening wood, where ghosts of war reside alongside the army families forced to dwell there. The aforementioned canine was a guide through this Dark Wood and without him came memories of what might have been.
Needless to say I wasn’t in the blogging mood!!
You need faith to write, faith to market and strive for that contract you dream of. Despite your books gathering cyber dust in the Amazon attic along with AOL, Google Glass and the doomed BlackBerry. Maybe writers aren’t meant for the digital kingdom? For we made our bread and butter via niche magazines and guest columns many centuries ago and now look at us, we are the Art Muse left behind
The reduction is our craft is painful, for tabloids have made writers absurdly gladiatorial. Our weapons in the arena are the worst words we can come up with, to the winner goes the spoils of a front page article. A war of words against a Celtic-haired Prince or distant traveller, the lucky few paid oodles of money for a schoolyard spat in written form. We used to revere journalism for its almost mythical in difficulty to get into
Then, then we have the language vandals, the Nepotism Babies taking a sledgehammer to precious childhood with lazy lazy screenwriting. A parody of its theme or indeed anything and a great great parody and insult of a writer’s study and respect of the English language.
I wasn’t gonna begin a story for the billionth time but my tales of Narcissism, especially at Christmas, need to be told with a dollop of humour of course. Women’s fiction was never my jam but how else can I write about such absurd things like buying somebody amethyst earrings only to get a leather pouch in return?? Yes ladies and gentlemen I created a Bridget Jones story, it’s still burgeoning and eighteen pages in but it’s there in my endless attempt at a merited lifestyle.
But writers are vagabonds, misfits and Vagrants by unappreciated trade, what would I know about Meritocracy??? What do any of us?
Belle's Gateway 