Inspiration

It's all around us, apparently. So why can't I find any when I need it? A blank page can be exciting, it can also be challenging. But without inspiration its emptiness is damning. Which is where I'm at just now.

So I thought I would look back to see what inspired me to write past stories which have sold successfully.

My first to be published with The People's Friend was called 'Take a Break' - yes, I did sell a story with the title of a rival magazine. That was inspired by an 80 year old plate in my mother's china cabinet which is the sole survivor of an incident when as a child she accidentally pulled the kitchen cupboard over and smashed all the crockery, except for this one plate.

My husband's determination to complete Killer Sudoku puzzles was the trigger for 'The Numbers Game', bought by Woman's Weekly.

A family joke describing laundry as the 'joy of socks' led to a story which sold to Yours.

Another laundry inspired task came to me while ironing with an ear worm of 'Dashing away with a smoothing iron' repeating in my head. That was published by The Weekly News under the title 'Dashing Away'.

So, apparently I need to focus on destructive children, puzzle obsessives and housework.

Maybe I'll just have another cup of coffee and a biscuit while I think about this. Anybody have any ideas to spare?

Hardware

I haven't written much in the last few months. But on January 1st I vowed to change all that. New Year, new start, etc. My plan was to ease myself back in with a fresh blog post every week, to try a few bits of flash, reader's letters, etc. Then to move on up to writing short stories again on a regular basis.

Then my computer died and all my good intentions fell apart. In high dudgeon I took what couldn't be saved to the tip and Freecycled the best of it. I've not written anything since (unless Facebook and Twitter count?). 

But truthfully I never had a valid excuse not to return to my desk. What did writers use before computers were invented? Good old fashioned pen and paper of course. I still have plenty of those.

Then typewriters - not that I'd dare use this antiquity which belongs to my brother. It's purely decorative but it acts as a reminder of why I like my modern keyboard so much.

So I've bought a new computer which was installed yesterday. Now I have no excuse. The hardware is all set up. Here I go. Ready, steady... write!

Gate of the Year

The new year can be exciting, full of possibilities - successes, new discoveries, plans to be made. But it can be scary too. Who knows what problems lie before us? A poem I learned as a child comes to my mind each January.

I love the imagery of a guiding hand being "better than light and safer than a known way". The poem was written by Minnie Louise Haskins who died in 1957. I wrote about her in my recent article which is published in The People's Friend Special 133. Minnie unwittingly became an overnight celebrity when King George VI quoted from her poem in his address to the Commonwealth in December 1939.

The words of the poem would have provided comfort to many in the early days of the Second World War. As you stand at the gate of 2017, I hope that, whatever your faith, you will find strength and courage to embrace everything that the new year has in store.

I wish you all a very Happy New Year.

Fillers

No, I haven't gone down the route of cosmetic correctives, Botox or the like.

'Fillers' in the context of writing are the shorter articles that magazine editors slot into gaps between longer pieces of copy and adverts. Because of this they are usually chosen at the last moment, once the major components of an anticipated edition are agreed upon and a judgment is made as to what space needs to be infilled.

My first published piece of writing was a filler in The People's Friend over 2 years ago. Since then they have published several more of mine, the most recent in the Christmas Special now on sale. The current article is about Christmas Island in the Indian Ocean which I first discovered as a child when looking through my father's stamp collection. 

Stamps give an overview of a country featuring as they do pictures featuring geographical, historical, anthropological, mythical and natural interest. It is from these stamps that I learned of the spectacle of the island's red crab migration. If you've never seen photographs then do take a look online.

My favourites from my late father's collection though have to be a set of 5 stamps issued 30 years ago in which an artist imagined Santa Claus holidaying on the island which bears his name. After the busy-ness of Christmas Eve, who would deny him a restful holiday in the sun?

Espresso

While I'm writing this, there is in the background a gentle buzz of noise. People are chattering, there is an occasional burst of laughter from the table in the corner, the explosion of a grind and hiss from the machine being used by the baristas as they complete the next order for a skinny latte with a caramel shot, or whatever it may be. All the normal sounds and comforting hubbub that comes from sitting in a cafe whilst tapping away at my keypad.

You may think that I am writing in a cafe, as many other writers choose to do. Except I'm not. I'm in the warmth of my own home listening to 'university undertones' from the cafe menu on Coffitivity. As it's pouring with rain outside I really didn't want to leave the comfort of my desk this morning!

Cafe bars are a great place to people watch and many an unsuspecting customer has found his or her way into a short story of my composition. Just why has the otherwise elegantly dressed and perfectly maquillaged old lady sitting by herself have dirt incongruously entrapped under her fingernails? What happened to the brusque workman this morning to put him into such a foul mood that he snapped rudely at the young barista serving his tea? And the smartly suited businessman in the corner working at his laptop in the corner keeps glancing furtively around the room, leaning forward to cover the screen whenever anyone walks by - what is he hiding?

Here is a piece of flash fiction of mine that was published last month on Paragraph Planet. Enjoy!

Do you find writing in cafes a distraction or a source of inspiration?

Dogs

Every picture tells a story, so it is claimed. What story do you see when you look at this painting?

'Fidelity' by Briton Riviere

 What happened to the young boy that led to his imprisonment? How did he injure his arm? What is the significance of the graffiti on the cell wall? What will happen to him next? Above all, what emotions does the painting evoke?

I have a fondness for 19^th century narrative art. I was brought up in Liverpool where the Walker Art Gallery, and the Lady Lever Art Gallery in nearby Port Sunlight, have an excellent selection. As a child I would examine the paintings and find myself asking those simple questions – who, why, what, where?

Story writing begins the same way. We start with the questions and then we provide the answers: introduce the characters, explain their motivation, describe the situation, identify the setting. In so doing we aim to create a credible and well-rounded plot that will evoke emotion in the reader.

My focus in Riviere's painting is the dog. He has such expressive eyes, full of concern and love. The droop of his tail indicates empathy with his master's sorrow.

I no longer have a dog of my own but provide regular doggy-day-care for those belonging to family members. Here are my three loyal and loving friends. They have already inspired some of my short stories. Do you find pictures and animals a source of inspiration?

Why is Ziggy so sad?



Who has caught Henry's attention?

What has Freddie found buried amongst the leaves?





Cobwebs

They aren’t everyone’s favourite, but even the most ardent arachnophobe can’t help but be awestruck by the beauty that these misty autumn mornings reveal. The hedge in my back garden was covered in silver when I opened the door this morning.

I must pay tribute to the tenacity and patience of the spider who lives in my car’s nearside wing mirror. Despite regularly having his web destroyed when I brush past, or attempt to wash the car windows, or drive at speed, by the next morning the web will have been rebuilt.

Maybe I can learn from him how to be persistent? In writing terms, if I submit my delicate manuscript and it is destroyed by rejection, I need to practice that same determination: pick up the threads and reconstruct my story, one strand at a time, until it is stronger and better and ready again to be submitted.

The same lesson can be applied to overcoming life’s setbacks, silken thread by silken thread. OK, maybe that’s a bit deep and pushing the analogy too far.

On a lighter note, here’s a little something I prepared earlier which was published last year on Paragraph Planet. Hope you enjoy it.