WIP Wednesday…

Where is my walk in the park?

There have been days in the last six months when I have had trouble doing anything writing-related. Days when I rely on autopilot to get me through the day.

What with all the worry about my sister’s health, my primary job as a carer has pretty much removed all hopes of my writing anything. Consequently, the current WIP, Ghost of a Chance, has become static. On a good day, I sit and look at it, hoping inspiration or something similar will turn up, but then duty or a problem calls, and I must walk away again.

Stubborn is as stubborn does though, and I have a new plan.

Ghost of a Chance has become a complicated mess with storyline plot holes big enough to swallow my desk and only two-thirds finished. I have realised that to keep writing, hoping it will make better sense as I go on, would be disastrous, eventually making the problem worse.

So, and I’m getting quite fond of that word, I have a new plan.

I have created a blank storyboard for all my characters, and I am slowly reading each chapter and placing them in what I hope will be the right places. This system should highlight the missing parts too, I hope.

Now I am no longer concentrating on the concluding chapters, I think I will be able to sort everything out, thereby making finishing it a real walk in the park. (Or at least something similar!)

Anita is home from the hospital, but far from well. We are taking good care of her and hoping for the best. And good news in two weeks at her check-up would be lovely too…

Writephoto ~ Approach ~ #Poetry

#WRITEPHOTO – Approach

#WRITEPHOTO – Approach
Approach – Image by KL Caley

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a foggy day with the sun just emerging through the clouds. Emerging from the fog is a large castle.

Cold crisp winter calling, I feel you
Spring winds, blowing warm, I feel you
Summer sun, bacon burger frying outside, I feel you
Autumn leaves falling beneath the trees
Decaying fast, I feel you
Windswept rainy days, flood warnings, I feel you
Fog filled days, damp, moving, I feel you
Castle gates shut tight, I hear knocking
I feel the empty rooms, ghosts roaming, I feel you
Should I knock back, will they let me in
Keep me, feel me…

© Anita Dawes 2022

Mad Monday…

This is me this morning I’m afraid.

Yesterday was a nightmare, one I don’t want to ever have again.

Last Monday, Anita had surgery to remove suspicious activity in her thyroid. Everything seemed to go okay, and she came home on Thursday. She was a little breathless and very weak, but we thought this was to be expected.

What we didn’t expect, was for the breathing to become much worse every day, almost stopping on Sunday morning. We rang 111 but the answer message said to call later as they were so busy! We debated whether to call 999, but suppose they were too busy? At that point, we were getting frantic, so we all piled in the car and Anita’s son drove like a demon, hazards on and so fast, I was dizzy. At this point, Anita’s breathing was getting worse and she kept saying she thought she was dying. She was probably remembering that other time nearly two years ago when we made the same journey and she really was dying from a massive heart attack.

The roads were not busy, and any cars we came across soon got out of our way as we made the ten miles to the hospital. Within seconds, the A & E staff had her on oxygen and we all breathed a sigh of relief.

Turns out that it could be something that happened during the thyroid surgery, and we await the truth about that, hopefully, today.

So you see, I am probably even angrier than that cat…

Frosty Fate…

Image by Tapani Hellman from Pixabay

The grass crunched under my shoes as I trudged towards the empty birdfeeders. The cold quickly found its way through my thin shirt, and the air hurt my throat and lungs with each breath, but the birds were hungry, and my conscience would not let me rest indoors.

My fingers, never fond of the cold, grew painful as I wrestled with the bucket of fat balls and bag of the finest seed mixture, before coping with the intricacies of the feeders.

Image by Tobikoz from Pixabay

The sunlight was blinding and most welcome, yet ineffective this early in the day against the thick frost and biting temperatures. It would be another hour at least before everything warmed up and the frost melted, only to reappear the following morning. When I finished, I stood back, pleased to have done my bit for our feathered friends. I looked around the garden, at how different it seemed these days. The plants had died down and were fast asleep, everything wearing a thick dusting of what looked like icing sugar. Here and there, late flowers had paid the price and were crystalised for their tardiness.

I started to wonder what fate had in store for us this year. Lord knows it hadn’t started well already and I knew it would be weeks before there was any hope of an improvement…

The Last Dragon in London by Widdershins ~ #Historical Fantasy ~ Review

In the second decade of the Twentieth Century, Mildred Norman, Mildy to her friends, not many of whom are left alive, is broken in body and spirit after a long hard war.
An old friend suggests that she might like, as a bit of a distraction, to spend some time doing a bit of a ‘grand tour’ of all the places named ‘London’ throughout the world.
What begins as a whim, ends with a discovery that challenges everything she believes is possible.
Arriving in the last ‘London’, on her list, a tiny village tucked away in a remote valley, she meets up with a few of the locals and shenanigans ensue.
With the help of a child hunting mythical beasts, the child’s grandmother, and a cast of quirky villagers, Mildy shows how dangerous a stout woman with a lethal arsenal in her pockets can be.
She uncovers a plot to alter the course of history, begun so long ago that no records of the conspirators remain, except for one place, the place she now calls home.
To protect those she has come to love from certain destruction at the hands of a cruel and loathsome cabal, she must battle threats both near and far, and confront the mysterious force guiding it all.
And then, of course, there’s the question of dragons …

About the Author

Widdershins

I was born in England on a crisp autumn eve in 1958, emigrated to Australia at the tender age of two, and moved to Canada in 2004 where I married the love of my life. I left school when I was fourteen, and thereafter continued my education via libraries, books, and whatever Life decided to throw my way.

I was born in England, grew up in Australia, moved to Canada in 2004 and married the love of my life the same year. I’m a lesbian, a writer of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Fiction.

I’ve tried many things in my time on this little planet we call Earth, and I’m sure that before I leave this mortal coil I shall joust with many others.

I’ve ridden a bicycle down a hill so steep all I could do was hold on and scream with sheer exhilaration. (and terror) I’ve sweated under a burning sun to plant seedlings in dusty fields. I have a long-standing relationship with sewing machines, starting with an old Singer treadle machine when I was barely tall enough to reach the pedal. Once upon a time I went to university and studied Architecture … it didn’t take. I had a dream of athletic superstardom, but a motorcycle accident stopped that rather abruptly.

Above all, writing is my passion and my profession, novels specifically, short stories occasionally, and always with lesbian characters.

I adopted ‘Widdershins’ as a pseudonym in the early days of the interwebz, and it stuck … because I am, if nothing else, contrariwise.

Our Review

The minute I started reading The Last Dragon and realised I was travelling on a train with someone called Mildred Norman, or Mildy as she preferred to be called, I felt at home. I love trains almost as much as I love dragons, so had the feeling I was in good company.

For several precious hours, the world outside my door went away and for the first time in a very long time, I remembered dragons again. All in the company of some lovely and very real people.

This story gives a totally new and interesting way of thinking about dragons, but personally, I have always believed they exist, somehow, somewhere.

Romantic, exciting, magical and intriguing, this story will delight you, as you suspend any doubts you may have had about magic and dragons.