Brrrrrrrr but beautiful

For those of you who didn't have snow, here you can share mine. Yes the weatherman got it right at least for my little part of Shropshire. 

It started yesterday afternoon and carried on until late at night. It's beautiful, even I have to admit that but I hate it. It's cold, wet and very slippy.

Poor Mike, slipped on ice just before Christmas and ended up breaking a rib. He's getting over it now but it's a lesson to us all to take care. Me I'd rather stay in the warm and dry.

But my lads and their friends aren't like me, they went out to play in the dark and lo and behold we had, for a brief time, a new visitor in our garden.

Poor Lucy though looks freezing.

Hopefully though this is the last of snow for this year but who knows what next year will bring.

I'm really looking forward to it. A new year and a new decade - where did the last one go to?

I really hope that 2010 brings you all everything you wish for and more. And for writers, remember bum on seat and get those keys going.

Have a wonderful New Year.

My ever so clever car again and other things

She tried matchmaking this time. Sounds crazy but it's true. I went to Asda in Donnington Wood Telford, parked in a disabled parking bay and almost immediately had a guy checking to see if I had a blue badge. I got out of the car, commented to the guy who'd parked next to me that it was really nice that someone was checking that the spaces weren't being abused.

Then the parking official came up to me and apologised for checking my badge saying (and I really liked this bit although it was very much pre-conceptions on his part). 'Sorry love but I had to check to see if you had a badge because you look so young and driving a sports' car you did look suspicious. We get a lot of people abusing these places. I'll tell you, I was on cloud nine and thanked him for both the compliment and for keeping an eye on the car park. I went shopping after that with Lucy, my youngest son's girlfriend.

About half a hour later there was one of those heart stopping moments when only half listening to the frequent messages related over the voice system I heard my car registration being read out and asking me to return to my car. Images of huge dents in the body work or even worse flashed through my mind as I went to the information desk. 'It's alright love, your car door is open.'

Relief was an understatement and when I went back to the car found one guy standing guard over it and the ever so nice parking guy standing next to him. It was true the driver's door had magically opened all on it's own and prompted another meeting with ever so nice man who had paid me such a lovely compliment earlier.

Okay he wasn't my type and maybe I'd just forgotten to close the car door properly, but I did lock the car honestly but perhaps my ever so clever car had decided that it was time I met someone special.

Oh I can hear that voice again 'no dear, you didn't shut the door' but hey it's Christmas and although the car got the choice of guy not quite right, maybe magical things do happen or will happen - who knows.

And the other things. Picture it a small village hidden in a valley, Christmas lights twinkling in the houses, the church lit up and a group of carol singers meeting to take the message of Christmas to their friends and neighbours. A cold frosty night twinkling with stars in darkness and the chill air resounding with 'Hark the Herald Angels Sing.' Totally wonderful and tonight I was part of those carol singers as villagers and their children walked through the snowy, frosty lanes wishing others a happy Christmas. I love Clunbury it really is the most incredibly friendly village and to be part of it, especially at Christmas is totally magical. And once we'd visited everyone we retired to the village hall for mulled wine and munchies. How much more perfect can it get?

So feeling all Christmassy and nice - best wishes to you all xx

Wishing you all a very Happy Christmas

From Wrekin Writers

and from my family to yours.

My ever so clever car

did me a favour today. It knows how much I like the Clun Valley and how interested I am in its history and the characters who live here so it decided to conjure up a situation where I would meet one and have a chance to have a natter and find out more to add to my scrap book.

How it did this was quite amazing. I went to the garage, threw the keys down in that bit in the middle and got out, filled up with petrol then went to get my keys and my purse. And the car, magically, had locked itself with aforementioned keys and purse still inside. Did I feel very silly? Yes. Did I panic? No! Hey who am I trying to kid? Visions of being out in the cold until one of my sons came to rescue me (and that's only if they got hungry which would have taken several days until they'd eaten me out of house and home) or unless some kindly soul rescued me. Fortunately it was the latter.

Margaret, the lovely Margaret offered to drive me home to pick up the spare set. I can't thank her enough bless her. During the journey though, I heard all about her life growing up on a farm as one of sixteen children. I learned the names of most of the people whose houses I drive by most days and how long they've lived in the valley. I learned about people I don't know who live in Clunbury and I heard about how wonderful her husband's new hip is. Gossip maybe but to me gold dust. It's scribbled down in my little notebook and best of all she's coming to have another chat with me when she's in the village after the new year. I know there is still a lot she's got to tell.

Oh and the car. That got a very strict talking to on the way home albeit a bit tongue in cheek.

And for the cynics amongst you who'd say 'no dear you locked yourself out of your car.' Well I didn't. The car locked me out, I mean I wouldn't do it because it's such a silly thing to do.

How to books

Come on admit it, you've probably got more than a few sitting on your bookshelves that you've bought in the past, thought I'll read that and have never got round to doing so. Well, if you won't admit I will. So, the other day I picked one up. Lynne Hackles' book 'Writing from Life. How to turn your personal experiences into profitable prose.' And I began reading it. Ah, but not just reading it, I'm doing the exercises she suggests too, so with brand new notebook and shoebox to the ready, I've been going around my house collecting things that hold special memories for me.

However, one of the exercises she suggests did make me smile as it took me back through the years to when I was five years old. I hated singing lessons. Yes I sing now and on the whole I have enjoyed singing through most of life but not when I was five.

The exercise that prompted this memory was when she asks about silly songs you used to sing at school. I can see it now. There I was sitting on the dusty floor in my green and white gingham school dress, my pink shell framed specs sitting on my nose dreading the opening chords to 'Down by the river where the green grass grows.' The second line was 'there sits Susie pretty as a rose.' Aw sweet I hear you say except for one little lad who used to grin at me and sing at the top of his voice, 'there sits Susie picking her nose.' My cheeks would burn as my face turned crimson and I so desperately wanted to run from the school hall and hide.

Do you have any memories of silly songs you used to sing at school? Why not tell us about them below and who knows what you write may lead to either an article or story that we'll all read next year.

Incidentally Lynne's book will make a fantastic present for a writer and it's not too late to order it from Amazon. For details click here

Albrighton County Infants on the left, with the Junior School on the right and the swimming pool I learned to swim in. It was supposed to be heated, emphasis on the 'supposed'.

Wrekin Writers' Christmas Do

What do you do with nearly thirty people all in party mood? That was the problem I faced at ten oclock on Saturday morning. It wasn't quite St Trinians' Christmas Party but it wasn't far off. We started off quite formally once they'd cleared up the paper aeroplanes off the floor and untied the vice chair and then we had some fun. The question posed was how well do you know Wrekin Writers? Each member had to write down what they'd most like to find under the Christmas Tree and the other members had to guess who written what

Well it was quite revealing. Amongst the many requests were a puppy (Phyllis), the gift of insight (Dean), Cocktail maker (Bev), an idiot proof laptop (Barbara), a body massage, (Mary) trouble was she figured there were enough members there to fulfil that wish, we had to restrain one member. But the easiest one to guess was the Bravisimo Lingerie Catalogue, all fingers were pointed at Mike who grinned like a Cheshire Cat.

It was all good fun and the outcome was Julie scored the highest with ten out of twenty. A reward a chocolate treat.

Then we moved the party to the Buckatree Hotel in Wellington. Very nice, very posh and the food was excellent.

Did they have a good time? You decide from the pictures that Julie took - thanks Julie.

Beverley, Phyllis and Lilian in the bar.

Angeline with Bryan and his family.

Mollie looking lovely

And there's always one but in this case two. Chris and Sue enjoying themselves at the pool table.

For more pictures check out Julie's blog

Before I go on to the Christmassy stuff I want to say a great big thank you to Wrekin Writers' Vice Chair Barbara Groom for organising the meal at the Buckatree. She really did a wonderful job. So from me and the rest of Wrekin Writers - thank you Barbara x

So as 2009 comes to a close we wish you all

A wonderful Christmas and a fantastic 2010

And one final thought.

The lovely little lad in the picture is our youngest member Robin Kiernan. I wonder if this could be the present chair holding a future chair of Wrekin Writers. Funnier things have happened.

Chairman's Challenge

The Chairman's Challenge for November was suggested by Darren and he had the job of judging them.


The subject was 'Take a cliche and make it interesting and different.'








1st - Mary Braddock


Fred had always lavished attention on his half-acre lawn.  It resembled a billiard table, fifteen years of mowing, rolling and fertilising had created a project described by many as “the bowling green”.  But that was to change when, for eight mornings in a row Fred was confronted by several small, neat, earthy mounds.  On the ninth day he woke to find yet another fresh pyramid of soil.  He was furious and reached for the phone.  Three weeks later Fred took delivery of four lorry loads of finest Scottish granite.  When the landscaping was complete, Fred had successfully made a mountain out of a molehill.

2nd - Mike White

The Five Ages of Man

 

The bonny baby, cherub of a man,

Becomes obese before he leaves the pram.

 

Noisy Kids, they whine and mither,

I don’t want to see them either.

 

Pull up my socks?  said Dora with a frown,

They’d rather watch me take my stockings down.

 

To stiffen upper lip and keep straight face,

Inject with Botox – I know just the place.

 

It’s hard, now that my back’s begun to bend

To light the candle even at one end.

3rd - Julie Phillips

                                                     Spitting Feathers

     “Don't exceed the recommended amount of ingredient, fallen from a chicken's oviduct for the custard,” Sally clucked, preening her plumage. “You'll never find enough; they're as scarce as a chuck's molar. The pudding will be fine without them.”

   “But, but, but, it's egg custard!” Anna pecked. “At least I don't store my entire stock of completely balanced, nutritious miracles of life in one Tesco's bag for life.”

   “ It's like traversing crushed calcium carbonate crystals here! But remember, although we 're cracked from the same shell, I'm first in the pecking order,” Sally flapped.

   It's a shame that this poultry disagreement has caused so much dishevelled down in the Fowler Coop.

Nanowrimo - time to reflect

And what better place to do it than in our favourite bookshop with coffee and cake. Many many thanks to Anna Dreda of Wenlock Books for the refreshments and the use of her wonderful table.

Julie and I met up to write and to chat primarily about Nanowrimo and what we each got out of it. I think the biggest thrill was that we both completed our fifty thousand words although at the beginning of November, we both admitted it was quite a daunting task.

For me I found it easier to break it down into daily sections. Seventeen hundred words a day doesn't sound half as bad as fifty thousand in a month and also I set a time each day in which to write those words. My time at the computer was between 2.15 and 4.45pm which meant when I was about doing other things I could think about what I was going to write. This also helped me organise the rest of my day better, which for those of you who know me, will find that a miracle. Also I found myself looking forward to my writing time, my space, hell no my escape.

Writing without editing as you go along, I found quite difficult. I kept wanting to go back and change things whereas Julie managed to put that out of her mind and keep writing. However, mindful of the time restriction my editing was kept to a bare minimum. When I picked up where I left off, I simply read the previous paragraph and hoped for the best.

Yes we've both made mistakes with characters etc but hey we've got the real editing to look forward to and sort things out and you never know at the end of it we might actually have something that people will want to read and more importantly be able to read it and follow it.

So was it easy? Was it a walk in the park? No, it was running free in the wind. There were no guidelines, no one to tell us what to write, it was a month of pure indulgence and one where I learned that yes I can do it and I can be disciplined.

Has the good work continued? Okay I admit I did have about three days off but since then I have been writing and my precious writing time in the afternoon continues.

And one last point we both agreed it certainly helped knowing that just down the road we knew someone else was doing exactly what we were doing. Mad maybe but great fun.

And yes we'll do it again Nano and writing in the bookshop.

Thanks Julie x

If you don't know Wenlock Books then it really is worth a visit. For more information click here

Another Nanobabe crosses the line

I've done it.








At 15.50 this afternoon I typed my 50,000 words. Oh and Di, I was wearing jeans and a tee shirt sadly, unlike Julie, I didn't dress for the occasion.

To everyone who is doing Nanorwrimo best of luck. Let us know how you get on.

Now off for a well deserved glass of wine.

Chairman's Challenge

The Chairman's Challenge for September for those who were brave enough to accept it was 'If you could invent a new Olympic sport what would it be?

Simon had the pleasure of judging this.





1st - Dean King

Dear Olympic Spirit


I fear we have lost sight of The Olympic Ideal, and I appeal to the memory of Penny Brookes and de Coubertin for guidance. We live in a world without peace, mutual understanding or real friendship, where discrimination is endemic and prophet motivates us to win at all costs. Competitors in the Game of Life need constant adjudication to ensure fair play. I would like to suggest a new sport; Random acts of kindness.
In this, you will judge on the sheer randomness of our kindly actions, choice of recipients and altruism displayed. Perhaps then we can all win, ‘With a glowing heart’.

2nd - Sue Ross


An Old Woman’s Race For A Pound Of Tea


And every grade of man
shall stand upon
Green Linden Field.
To pit raw strength
against pure iron will.
Great Lords beside the common clod,
all fellow athletes,
equal under Heaven’s skies,
and God looks down
upon
this noble contest
dignified
deserving of remembrance,
it sees all men
stand equal in the name of sport,
yet ancient Mother
hitches greying skirts above bare
ankles,
swears, and races for a pound of tea.
Victoriously
jubilant
she sits
and sips
demurely.

3rd Beverley Cherry

And the first nanobabe across the line is....

Drum roll please

Julie Phillips







who last night at 19.45 dressed for the occasion in her Tesco Scotty dog black, white and red tartan pyjamas complete the staggering total of 50,226 words in twenty three days.

Well done Julie enjoy your success and be proud of your achievement.

Floods in the North

I was devastated when I heard the news and yet all I did was watch the pictures on the television. My heart goes out to the family of Bill Barker, the brave policeman who lost his life in the floods and to the people who have lost their homes, I weep for them. I know exactly what they're going through and what they'll go through in the days and weeks to come.

When we lost our home in the floods of 2007 you hope that never again people will go through that but they do and it's happening more and more often. We haven't looked after our world very world have we?

In 2007 Mike, the then chairman set the challenge the subject was 'Water, water everywhere' This is what I wrote a month after we were flooded.

Water, water everywhere. Carpets floating, toilet overflowing mingling with the dirty  contaminated river water and rushing headlong into the kitchen, into the fridge, the freezer and those corners that never see the light of day covering everything in mud, silt and shit.

            The water came in uninvited, unwelcome, robbing and raping, stealing our home and all that was important to us and then it went. Leaving in its wake total destruction, ruined irreplaceable memories and photographs and lives that were already damaged, devastated and broken.

            Now homeless, pride and dignity all gone, we have to rebuild but how?

Please remember in your thoughts and prayers those who have suffered in the recent floods

Read all about it.

Okay so I know I'm going about it but 50,000 words in thirty days is quite something.

Would you do it?

Do you think we're mad?

Who's running a book on whether or not we complete our ridiculous task? On second thoughts no I don't want to know.

But what's it like to be involved in such a challenge? You can find out at www.nanowrimo.org  or you can go to Julie's blog at http://jlpwritersquest.blogspot.com/  or you can go to mine at http://mywritinglifeandotheranimals.blogspot.com/ which for some unknown reason is not being updated on this site but I am updating it regularly.

So come on guys tell us what you think - are we mad?

We're doing well between us.

Half way through Nanowrimo and between us Julie and I have just about completed sixty thousand words. She's done a few more than me, but hey we're going great guns.

I was thinking though what has this taught me?

Perhaps the most important thing is that I can keep my bum on the seat long enough to write and that time I've made to write I'm really enjoying. It's also taught me that when you're up against such a deadline there's no time for writers' block. I have my allocated time and I write. And also if it wasn't for Nanowrimo there is no way I'd have completed nearly 30,000 words in sixteen days.

Is it worth doing? I think so even if just to prove to me that once I make my mind up to write, I can.

And Julie, well done and thanks for being my writing buddy. Best of luck pal and loads of love.

Lest we forget

For The Fallen

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England’s foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

Laurence Binyon

Congratulations Phyllis

Seventy eight years young and our much loved Wrekin Writer Phyllis Blakemore's first book is being launched today. Gentlemen of the River: The Last Coraclemen of the Severn Gorge is available on Amazon.co.uk at a very reasonable £7.99.

Phyllis has spent her entire life in and around the Severn Gorge and over the years has known many of the characters who have lived, worked and survived in the Gorge in the days when Ironbridge wasn't a tourist attraction but a town that depended on it's own industry.

Phyllis herself is a lovely, gracious lady who is not only a brilliant writer but a fantastic story teller, she writes about what she knows and she writes from the heart. I've no doubt that this book will not only entertain but through the author's words you will be taken back to a world that no longer exists but is a vital part of the Gorge's history. And you too, will be able to say you knew those people.

This book really is a must buy for Christmas and Phyllis - well done.

Nanowrimo

Well it's day 3 and Julie and I are still hanging in there. If you want to know how it's going for both of us check out our blogs and share the journey with us.

God we're mad.

Julie's blog is at http://jlpwritersquest.blogspot.com/

and my nano blog is at http://mywritinglifeandotheranimals.blogspot.com/

Chairman's Challenge

The challenge for August was 'Home is Telford.' This proved to be quite interesting because although most of our members live in Telford not everyone likes Telford.

As a modern town which was created in the sixties and seventies Telford has over the years come in for much stick from many people. Wrekin Writers proved to be no exception.

I judged this one and as I've said before, it's wasn't an easy task but I felt that Darren Bailey's interpretation of the subject matter was simply brilliant and well carried out, hence the reason I gave him first place.

1st - Darren Bailey

THE PROPOSAL

Father Howard gripped the Scotsman’s shoulder.”Did I see you with the Mayor, Thomas?” The surveyor wanted to pull away, but instead he stared into the priest’s eyes searching for sanity.

“He asked me to change the route of the canal.” Tom jabbed his finger down on the map. “So it runs by his butter market.”

The priest smiled “Having the canal in Wellington would help trade, Thomas.”

“Hah!”

The smile vanished. “You’ll not consider our proposan then, Mr Telford?”

“Let me put it this way, father. I don’t think you’ll be re-naming your wee town in my honour any day soon.”

2nd - Mollie Bolt

Telford is home? Do me a favour!

Telford has neither taste nor flavour,

Telford's the town that isn't there

It has no heart and doesn't care.

Under each road and roundabout

Somebody's memories have been stamped out

And years of history gone down

To make an artificial town.

Home is Telford! Don't make me laugh.

Slough is more beautiful by half.

And if it wasn't for the trees

there wouldn't be a thing to please.

Why don't they take the town away

And let the forest have its way?

3rd Beverley Cherry

Hope

Of a new beginning

Many came

Escaping the crowded city.

Ironbridge and rural

Shropshire beckoned

Telford new town

Employment for all

Lots of new housing

Family friendly with many

Open spaces. And of course the famous

Roundabouts.

Don't knock it.

Two weeks ago and they're still talking about it.

Twenty nine have booked and that’s not including anyone who turns up on the day. That’s what Simon said in this email a few days before Wrekin Writers’ annual workshop, which is held in conjunction with the Wellington Literary Festival.

As Chair, panic gripped me. How on earth were we going to cater for that number? But as the old saying goes, ‘the show must go on’ and after only one minor mishap, I flooded the kitchen, the show did indeed go on.

We had an amazing day under the leadership of our guest speaker, writer, author, journalist, novelist and all round nice guy Nick Fletcher.

Doors opened at nine as people began arriving from not only from all over Shropshire but we had visitors from Staffordshire and Leicestershire too. After many introductions and much hand shaking everyone settled down to begin the morning session which was on article writing.

Over the years Nick has had in excessive of thirty thousand articles published, so he what he doesn’t know about writing articles isn’t worth knowing. His message though was simple, have an alert mind and keep your eyes open at all times. Read, read and read more and then write about what you know. We were given an insight into the kind of material that various publications like to print and how to get ideas for various markets. Nick then went on to tell us how to present our ideas and our work but said never be afraid to approach an editor with an idea, however he did stress the importance of being professional in our approach.

All too soon it was time for lunch but not before attendees were given the chance for a lively question and answer session, something everyone enjoyed.

For our afternoon session Nick spoke about the short story market and he defined exactly what a short story is and is not. It is not an encapsulation of a novel but it is one situation that needs a resolution and that resolution is found at the end of the story.

Another series of questions and answers followed but sadly all too soon it was time to thank Nick for the wonderful day we’d all had and to pack up and go home.

So my initial panic was unfounded and everyone at the workshop as well as thoroughly enjoying themselves left with copious notes which I have not doubt they’ll find very useful.

My thanks to Nick for his leadership and also to Wrekin Writers Julie Phillips and Nicola Vincent who kept us going with tea, coffee and biscuits and to Simon for not only taking the bookings but for getting there early and laying room out.

Thanks guys without you it wouldn’t have been such a success.

For further information on Nick Fletcher check out his website on www.nickfletcher.co.uk he really is an excellent speaker.

Yikes!

Write a novel of 50,000 words or more in thirty days. That's a minimum of (hang on let me get the calculator) 1,666 words a day for the next thirty days. Doesn't sound quite so bad if you put it like that but in the next thirty days I've got to.... no I'm not even going to think about that, I'm going to switch my laptop on sit in the corner of my sofa facing the window looking out over Clunbury Hill and allow myself the freedom to write.

I'm not doing this alone though. No thirty miles away in Telford scribbling away also is my dear friend and fellow Wrekin Writer Julie Phillips so wish us luck as tomorrow we begin our journey and please wish us well and all encouragement and support will be gratefully accepted.

To Julie, good luck sweetheart.

They're at it again

First the Shropshire magazines and now Link, the journal of the National Association of Writers' Group. In this month's issue Wrekin Writers' members feature several times. Our own Julie Phillips not only has a letter in it (page 2) but she also has an article (page 12) about the Writers' Bash that several of our members went to in July. Interesting point, about eight of us went but only Julie wrote about it and has had that work published. That's what being a writer is all about, seizing every opportunity. Well done Julie.

If you turn to page 18 you'll find an article on how to be succinct written by Simon Whaley (our excellent website co-ordinator). I'm not going to waffle on about Simon's article other than to say he tells us to keep it simple and enlightens us as to exactly what a USB Human Interface Device is. Intrigued - you'll have to read the article to find out.

And last but certainly not least (oh don't you love cliches?) our very own Sue Ross talks about Inkerstein's monster, the beast inside her that compelled her to write but who for so long she'd kept secret. Now she's liberated and can and justifiably call herself a writer.

Well done all of you. I wonder who's next?

Wrekin Writers target the Shropshire Markets

Julie Phillips had her article about the Horsehay Amateur Dramatic group published in Friday night's Shropshire Star.

Julie says on her blog 'I am estatic but still trying to get my head round the fact that I have got

into the Shropshire Star and it isn't a

letter! Or a story about my drunken behaviour after complaints from my neighbours (I am, of course, joking about the drunk bit - though I have no idea if my neighbours have ever complained about me!)

I've read the Shropshire Star for years but never thought I'd get a feature in there.
I very nearly didn't approach the editor with my feature proposal because I thought I'd be laughed out of the office!! But I did, so it just goes to show - nothing ventured nothing gained! So go on, give it a go - I dare you ;0)'

Well done Julie and if you want to read Julie's blog you can find it at

http://jlpwritersquest.blogspot.com/

and share her journey in the writing world.

And hot off the press this morning Di Perry has had an article accepted for the Shropshire Magazine. Di's reaction 'Oh my God!' For more information on Di's article - watch this space.

Well done Di

Di also has a blog, it's lovely. Read all about her girls at

http://insidethechickencoop.blogspot.com/

Missed opportunity

Following my attempt on Saturday to underseal my son's car with concrete, no 2 son is now kicking himself. Why? Because 'Nuts' magazine offers £100 for pictures of bad parking in their 'Bad Parking Corner' and although he had his phone on him, he didn't take a picture.

So contrary to popular opinion, there is at least one man who does read 'Nuts' magazine.

Things don't always go to plan

Well not in my house anyway. The plan for today was to do the laundry, a necessity really because there was a guy hanging around with a Union Jack threatening to claim the lad’s laundry basket for England. Then I was going to tackle the ironing. Not a job I relish but something that needed to be done. As I said that was the plan.
No 2 son (I number them it’s easier) came home from work and asked if I’d drive no1 son’s car up to a barn in the middle of the rolling hills of the Clun Valley where he had a friend’s van that needed to be collected. Simple enough job, would only take a few minutes and then I could liberate the laundry basket. Oh how wrong I was.
First of all there isn’t a road up to this barn just a rough track, the emphasis being on the word rough, but we got there. No 2 tried to start the van but of course the battery was hopelessly flat but being an ex boy scout, well actually he was a Beaver, he’d gone prepared with a spare battery to jump start the one on the van. Me in the meantime decided to turn the car around ready to go home.
Turn a car round, easy enough job I’ve been driving for donkey’s years. I looked around and saw a flat area of concrete, damp with the rain but that wasn’t a problem so I drove forward, then put the car into reverse and started to go backwards. Suddenly the back end of the car went down, thinking I’d missed the concrete I put it into first and tried to pull forward. It didn’t work. So I tried again and still it didn’t work. Deciding there might be something wrong, I got out and looked. The concrete that I thought was damp with the rain actually happened to be freshly laid and was still wet. Panic set in as I yelled to no 2 who climbed out of the van, which still refused to start and came around to have a look at what was wrong. At this point I will spare your blushes as to exactly what he said but you can imagine. I think also panic had set in with him to, because the only way he could see to get the car out of the concrete was to tow it with the still refusing to start van.
But, I’ll give him his due and remember he was in the Beavers when he was six, he noticed a digger type thing with a big bucket on the front parked not far from no 1 son’s very stuck car. Climbing into the cab, he started it, reversed it, found a towing strap and pulled the car clear. The relief we felt was overwhelming. After parking the digger type thing back where he found it he turned his attention once more to the van.
Finally it started. ‘Right Mum you go ahead and I’ll follow you and oh by the way you’re paying to jet wash the car’, which at this point was covered in mud, concrete and other nasty things. I drove back down the track expecting to see no 2 following me. I didn’t. I got to the bottom of the track and waited but still there was no sign of no 2. Just then my phone went. The number flashing on the screen was no 2’s.
I answered the call. ‘Can you come back Mum? I’ve got the van stuck.’ My heart was rapidly sinking as I turned the car round and drove once again, up the track. There with the back wheel perched on the embankment was the van. Now this van is not a small van, but a dirty great Renault Master so what he expected me to do about it in a Rover was beyond me.
But Dan knew. The idea was to tow the van uphill with the Rover. I had my doubts which were confirmed with the burning smell of the clutch on the Rover and the van not moving. In the end we admitted defeat. I shifted the car while Dan went and got the digger thing with the bucket. Fortunately that made short work of moving the van. However, by this time the battery was flat and in the end, we left the van where it was, I came home and Dan went to get his mate to help him.
I’m pleased to say the wet concrete has been sorted, the car has been cleaned and the farmer, well he saw the funny side of it and laughed.
So my afternoon turned out not to be what was expected and to be honest I don’t want to go through it again, although as I said everything is now sorted. But it’s a bit like writing really. We sit down at our computer, a story already planned out and then maybe a character will take over and the finished product is nothing like we intended it to be. Do we go with it or do we stick to our original intentions? That’s up to the author but I often think that it’s fun to go with that character and in my experience it usually makes for a better story just like my afternoon. After all you’d really have been bored if I’d written about the various spin cycles on my washing machine, wouldn’t you?

Can men do it?

Can they write women's fiction?

Yes they can and just to prove it, check out this month's Fiction Feast. Turn to page 46 read and enjoy Wrekin Writer Simon Whaley's story 'Chief suspect Mickey Mouse.'

Well done Simon. I know it's taken Simon a long time to get a story in this magazine but determination, hard work and knowing his market has all paid off. A lesson for us all.

For more information on Simon and his work check out his website at www.simonwhaley.co.uk or follow his blog at http://simonwhaleytutor.blogspot.com

Wrekin Writers do it again.

Have you received your copy of the writing mags yet? If so have a look and see what members of Wrekin Writers have been up to.

Writing Magazine has a letter in by Julie Phillips about her experiences

with a local free mag.

Writers' News has a letter in written by Fiona Smith.

But we don't stop with the writing mags. The National Trust Magazine has a letter in by Simon Whaley and Angeline Wheeler has had a letter published in the Shropshire Star.

Well done Wrekin Writers.

The importance of getting it right

Do you remember where you were and what you were doing on the evening of 25th June 2007. I do. I remember it vividly. My family were fleeing our home as the River Corve in Ludlow gushed into our house.

This picture was taken seconds after we got out and before the realisation that we were homeless had even dawned on us.

The following morning after a night spent crying, I went back to the house to get us some clothes for us all. My home was ruined, irreplaceable family photographs destroyed and our lives were in tatters. Everything we took for granted had gone and that night we had no idea where we were going to sleep. Desperately sad times that although we recovered from, doesn't take much to bring those feelings and memories back to us.

So imagine how I felt this week when the headline on the front of my local paper read 'Flood Warning Camera Plan.' The article went on to say that Ludlow Town Council had been awarded a £10,000 grant from the Environment Agency and they wanted to install a camera linked to a website to give flood warnings. Well excuse me but I thought that was a joke, after all the best way of telling if the rivers are going to flood is to note the excessive amount of water flowing through them and for that you don't need an expensive camera system.

The article also mentioned that another use for the camera would be so that water levels could be gauged to see whether it was safe or not to use the river for leisure activities. To me this was the local council trying to justify the expenditure of the cameras for leisure facilities by using the excuse that it was there as a flood warning system. I thought the whole thing was sick so this morning I contacted my local radio station and told them exactly what I thought and how I felt.

It turned out to be an interesting experience. Following my interview they had the town clerk of Ludlow Town Council on and she confirmed that the cameras were primarily there for the tourism and leisure facilities and she was sorry about what had been written in the local paper as it was not their intention to use the floods of 2007 as an excuse to buy the cameras.

So, yes I have written to the local paper and expressed my disgust at their article but oh isn't it so important to get facts right because incorrect facts can cause unnecessary distress. As writers we have to be so careful and for those who do any form of journalism always remember, report not distort the facts.

Horror Writing

Fortunately Saturday morning was bright and sunny rather than dark, rainy and foggy because the subject matter of our workshop would certainly have put many members off.

Horror writing, it's certainly not a genre that I have ventured into, well not intentionally anyway. But under Mary V Williams' expert guidance it really doesn't sound that scary at all, but is it?

Where do you start? Like any writing you start with what you know. Okay fortunately I don't have experience of vampires, werewolves or or psychotic killers but I do know what it’s like to be frightened and I know what frightens me. That is exactly where Mary told us to start. Many members wrote for a few minutes or what frightens them and when they read their work it was quite revealing and very interesting. We’re all different, what scares one person doesn’t affect another creating diversity and interest and many many potential stories.

For more information on Mary V Williams, her publications and Inky Digits the writers’ group she runs in Market Drayton, Shropshire see her website on www.inkydigits.com.

And to Mary, many many thanks for an entertaining and informative workshop that the whole group enjoyed.

Chairman's Challenge

The challenge that was accepted by the group for July was 'Who or What motivates and inspires you to write and why?' I had the pleasure of judging this and believe me it wasn't easy. As chair, it was interesting because month after month these members turn up and share their work but we have never really discussed what actually motivates them to sit down and do some writing. Many of their stories I think all writers will identify with.

1st - Nicola Vincent

In the second infants, I wrote a poem, “Caterpillars Are Many Colours”. My teacher deemed it a masterpiece and displayed it on the wall for several years to come.

Three decades on I dream of seeing lyrical prose worthy of Toni Morrison flow from my pen; for the covers in the bookshop to bear my name, alongside the slogan ‘Orange Prize-Winner’.

Yet the truth, to paraphrase the poet Naomi Shihab Nye, is that I write not to become “Famous” but because I never forget what I can do.

I write not to let my six year old self down.

2nd - Angeline Wheeler

My Inspiration

Year 1982, age 32. Qualifications zero, third child beginning school. Helping at school I realized I had a flair with words and enjoyed them in small ways with the children. There I met someone who really took an interest and encouraged me to go to evening classes where I gained three G.C.E. Later he helped me with A level literature by reading and advertising my work then again through an access year to higher education. Then something came UP between us and I had to make a choice so I moved on for a while.

Although at this time and ever since, my husband was and is supportive he is not interested, leaving me with a depth of gratitude to the man who inspired and motivated me to believe in myself.

3rd - Sue Ross

You ask what has inspired me

And wait with baited breath

To hear the story

Of a world

Created

By my hand

And death as well as life

Was written

Then,

In darkness

Waiting.

I scribed this world

Creator

And Divine,

I watched a zillion sunsets,

Caused great galaxies to

Swirl

Entwine,

The firmament, that’s one of mine

You know.

I drank of oceans vast,

Like finest wine

A heady brew,

I wore night’s blackest cloak

To shoot the stars

And furrowed through the sands of time

To write this world

For you.

Treat it well.