Five Years of Blogging!

 

There have been highs and lows!

It's official! I've been blogging for 5 years! Happy Anniversary to me! And since everything is speeded up on social media I'm sure 5 years counts as a golden anniversary, perhaps even a diamond...

 

If you've only just joined in, let me tell you how it began. It was June 2008, a time when you needed to know html to convert an ordinary little word into a hyperlink. I was on a date with a dark, handsome stranger at the Gourmet Pizza Company on the Southbank.

 

I told him I was thinking about starting a blog about working in my Mum's chandelier shop. He, being an enthusiastic sort of bloke, assured me it was a great idea. A week later I wrote my first post. The rest is history. Well it would be if someone added it to Wikipedia.

 

There have been highs and lows on this blogging journey and I thought I'd share five of the most memorable. 

 

 

5th - SHOP GIRL BLOGGED OFF

 

When I wrote this post I was so fed up. I was worried I'd never ever get published and that I'd spend the rest of my life fending off barterers in my Mum's shop. I had no idea that a month later Salt Publishing would ask me to turn my blog into a book. If you are a writer and you feel like I did in this post, don't give up! You never know when your hard work will pay off. 

 

"I won’t be a famous novelist because I’ll be delivering a light fitting. We won’t charge for the delivery since we just want the customer to love us and not go to John Lewis. The customer won’t offer to pay for the delivery because they assume that’s what little shop people do on a Saturday night..."

Read More.

 

4th - SHOP GIRL UNDER ATTACK

 

At Stoke Newington Literary Festival, I spoke on a panel about writing in the digital age. I think it's an exciting time to be a writer. Whether it's a blog to build up a readership, a podcast to share your stories, YouTube for a book trailer for the book you self-published, because perhaps publishers weren't prepared to take a risk on you, with hard work and creativity you can really make things happen.

 

Some writers complain that the internet has eroded the filters keeping the bad writing out. But why waste time criticising other people striving to make the digital world work for them? It takes guts to put your work 'out there'. Sharing my work has been key to my progress and success as a writer, but of course I've had my ego bashed along the way. Shop Girl Under Attack is a blog post about the first 'hate mail' I ever got. If you're going to use social media, you've got to develop a thick skin.

 

"On Easter Sunday I received a mail from someone in my facebook group.
A certain young Californian with a photoshop twinkle in his eye.
'Please get a life,' he wrote, 'because the one you’re writing about isn’t that interesting.'
Oh, I thought, taken aback.
My first hate mail hadn’t come at the best of times." Read More.

 

 

3rd  - SHOP GIRL: TAKE 1, Camera, action!

 

My dream was always to become a novelist but when director Chloe Thomas asked me to write a script for a TV pilot based on my blog, I wasn't going to let the opportunity pass me by. Having a film crew in my shop and actors saying the lines I'd written was an incredible high. Although the pilot has not developed into a sitcom it remains a great moment in my blogging journey. I recommend saying 'yes' to every opportunity that comes your way and trust you'll learn as you go along!

 

“How much do you want this?” my brother had asked me, back in September.
“More than anything.”
And he’d rolled up his sleeves and launched into a speech on how to promote my blog." Read More.

 

2ND - THE BIG ADVENTURE - THE MOST MEMORABLE GUEST BLOG

 

This guest blog is definitely the most memorable. Well, it's not every day someone proposes on a blog, is it? Remember that dark, handsome stranger I was telling you about earlier...

 

"So the ShopGirl bullied me into doing a blog.

Here it is, I am real." Read More.

 

 

1st - SHOP GIRL IS LAUNCHED

 

The Book Launch of Shop Girl Diaries remains the best day of my life. I've just reread my blog post about it and tears sprung to my eyes. The publishers didn't have a budget for the launch so a group of my friends jumped in to help me organise it. I'd almost forgotten how generous people had been. Thank you again, and I hope there'll be another one soon!

 

"The Big day had come:
The Launch of 'Shop Girl Diaries'.
My nerves were momentarily eased by the successful match of my new tights with the dress.
It's those little details that really niggle.
As the Chines proverb goes, 'it's not the mountain that wears you out but the grain of sand in your shoe.'" - Read More.

 

 

A blog doesn't thrive very well alone. It needs its readers, so thank you for all your support over the last 5 years.

 

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 In my workshops I aim to pass on all the things I've learnt over the years. If you feel like starting your own blog, my next Blogging for Beginners and Improvers Workshop is on Saturday 13th July.

 

Check out my Workshop Page for more information.   

 

 

A Flawed Character

                                                    Photo by Thinkstock

 

 

A character in a novel needs a few flaws or they aren't very realistic.

 

So I mock one up. Give them a face. Maybe a couple of arms. Legs. A bit of hair. Perhaps a beard. Then I sit them down on a chaise longue and I ask them: What is wrong with you?

 

Are you too bossy? Do you have a phobia? Do you eat with your mouth open? Do you have a messed up relationship with a relative? Do you steal from the pic n' mix counter at the cinema? Don't tell me you talk at the cinema because I'll have to kill you off before your debut... Are you unreliable? Jealous? Do you wish you were someone else?

 

Of course, if writing guidebooks are anything to go by, there's only one question worth asking: WHAT IS IN YOUR POCKET?

 

Nope? You've never done that little exercise?

 

I don't know what's in my own pocket let alone theirs. Fluff probably. And a hair band. Very telling. Yes, I have long hair! Now you know everything there is to know about me.

 

It's ironic that while I'm inventing flaws for my fictional characters, I'm wishing I could erase them entirely from my own character. I ignore the fact that if I didn't have any flaws, I wouldn't be realistic. Perhaps I wouldn't be real even. I would vanish from the face of the earth and THE GREAT WRITER would appear with one of those pencils with the little pink rubber at the end, the rubber visibly used, and say, 'Sorry, I had to edit you out, you weren't very believable'.

 

Last Saturday was a boozy affair where everything was just wonderful, until it wasn't. I don't know. I got excited. Lost my will power in the garden somewhere. Maybe it fell through the grill along with a barbequed sausage. The result was, I woke up with a hangover, and was overcome with self-loathing. I couldn't understand how it had happened. How come my character, who had been through so much, could still act like she was a teenager? Hadn't she learnt ANYTHING?

 

It's frustrating being a human being sometimes...  

 

And repetitive too as the same old thoughts kick in: How I'm never going to drink ever again in my life. Or at least a month. A couple of weeks? Okay, I'll give up drinking forever but I might have to take up something else instead. Then again smoking has got to be worse than drinking, hasn't it? No I know, I'll never go out. If I don't go out I won't be tempted. I'll be a hermit. Yes, I'll be a hermit. But then my husband might get bored of me and leave me. Oh, but he probably should because I'm an idiot anyway... Why don't I ever remember to drink water? Never. Again. I'm going to start my whole life over. Maybe I should have a baby. I'll definitely be more responsible if I have a baby. I won't be able to drink either. Oh shut up, I'm NOT going to have a baby just to make myself feel better about myself. You complete idiot. I'll have to drink lime and tonic at parties, say I'm on antibiotics... whatever happens I'm never getting drunk EVER AGAIN.  

 

Real enough? Frustratingly so.

 

Obviously this morning I've been a model character. I meditated and I went for a long walk and I decided to give up alcohol for a month. I WILL be the character I want to be, I think to myself. And yet, although I'll make every effort, I sense THE GREAT WRITER is laughing at me. I've missed something important. I'll be a perfect character for a short while, but never forever.

 

Perhaps I need to have better look in my pocket. Perhaps there is a secret in there after all.   

 

A View from this Morning's Walk

 

The Accidental Cook

What surprised me most about the horse meat scandal was how surprised everyone was about the horse meat scandal. If a burger costs 50p then I naturally assume it's made of rat, pigeon, or stray cat. To be able to sell a product so cheap, costs must be kept to a minimum. Either the quality of the meat must be low or the animals must have had a poor quality of life (and death). Probably both.

 

It's doubtful I'll ever become a vegetarian. At the same time I don't want to eat a creature that has been born and bred in a cramped cage, suffered a brief and miserable existence just so I can buy it cheaply. I think a lot of people would feel the same if they followed their budget burger up the chain to where it all began. It's so easy when buying a neat little package of neatly cut meat to disconnect from its origin.

 

In the city, I often feel disconnected, be it from a sense of community or from nature. The other day, I decided to buy from the local butcher instead of going to a supermarket. I was born and bred in an independent shop, and know how important each sale is for a small business. It felt a lot like stepping into my own shop even though the meat wasn't as sparkly as our chandeliers. But the atmosphere was the same.

 

There was the butcher chatting to a regular customer and no one seemed in a rush. I asked for burgers because I was having a barbeque that evening.

 

"I've only got frozen burgers," the butcher said.

 

Damn. I'd had this idea about going to a local butcher to buy fresh, non processed meat.

 

"You can make them yourself," the regular customer said. "It's dead easy."

 

Of course he didn't know me. He didn't realise I'm not the cooking kind of girl. I throw things together and hope for the best. I'm baffled by those people that are forever baking cakes. Sounds like a second job to me.

 

I bit my lip and dithered. I didn't want to leave empty handed.

 

What if it was dead easy?

 

"Alright... what do I have to do?" I asked, expecting the worst.

 

Following a friendly chat, I left with a bag of mince meat and the distinct feeling that my trip hadn't gone as planned. By now I was supposed to have some delicious organic burgers, not just the ingredients to make them.   

 

Suddenly I had to do something in the kitchen that I'd never done before. I had to grate an onion.

 

Have you ever grated an onion before?

 

I couldn't believe it had never occurred to me to grate an onion. And then I whisked an egg, and added some mustard, and chopped some coriander that I'd bought in a fit of enthusiasm, and was now wilting on the window sill.

 

Soon enough I had made some burgers. Dead easy, like he said.

Differing Sizes for Authentic Organic Feel!

Glowing with pride, I texted my husband a picture and the message: Who AM I?  

 

He replied: My wife

 

Now, some of you must be thinking BIG DEAL, you made burgers, get over yourself. But the big deal is this: you can go through life thinking you're not that sort of person, or you can't do that sort of thing, but maybe you can, and like me, you just hadn't tried it before.

 

Small but Happy

The following weekend we went for a barbeque with some friends. Their garden is an inspiration with so much variety of herbs and vegetables in different stages of growth. If you've been following my blog long enough, you might have already read about my troubled attempts to grow vegetables. I waited for carrots for over a year and when I pulled them out they were small enough to fit between your teeth.

 

But I don't fancy being a failed vegetable grower anymore, so I'm going to try again. I might have to wait till 2016 to grow a decent carrot, but by then I'm bound to be a better cook, right?

 

So... Carrot burger anyone?

 

 

 

Stoke Newington Literary Festival - This June!

 

The Stoke Newington Literary Festival is nearly here and I'm very excited to be involved again!

 

Last year I took part in the Storytails 24-hour short story challenge. I write best when I'm under pressure but even I was a bit uncertain about such a tight deadline. Luckily, the idea came quickly and I wrote what turned out to be one of my favourite short stories I'd written in a while. It was a Jubilee inspired comedy called, 'Waterloo' about (Spoiler Alert!) Her Majesty locking herself in the toilet.

 

I must be going up in the world because this year I'm involved in a paid event! No I don't mean I'm getting paid, I mean the event requires  a ticket costing all of  £4. In fact, there will be lots of great talks taking place at the festival for similar silly prices, so check out the programme.

 

As for me, I'll be talking on a panel at The Literary Platform: Writing in the Digital Age.

 

My progress and successes as a writer are directly linked to my use of social media and I'll be sharing my story and discussing with leading commentators what it is to write in the digital age.

 

I hope to see you there!

 

(Or at a different talk!  Or in the pub afterwards!)

 

 

Marriage is...

"Marriage is so patriarchal," someone was saying on the television.

I looked up from my laptop. "Eh?"

The debate continued.

"Marriage comes with so much historical baggage..."

A couple, who'd been together five years, were waiting for the civil partnership bill to pass for straight couples, because 'marriage didn't reflect their values.'  I admit it came as a surprise to me that marriage should be such a complicated issue.

I suppose it comes down to how we've each been brought up. My parents have been married over thirty five years, my husband's over forty. I don't think we ever considered we wouldn't get married at some point in our lives.

Some people say it's just a piece of paper, but to me it feels a lot more than that. We vowed to love each other  through the best times and the worst times until 'death did us part'. I don't think either of us were joking, which considering how long people live nowadays is quite... optimistic? So far, so good.

I love being married and, feeling certain I wasn't the only one, I asked people to send me their thoughts on what marriage meant to them. This is what they said:

 

John and Paula -
September 2005 Berkshire UK 

"On the day I got married, the world came into focus. Gone were the awkward steps in different directions, the searching for something , but not knowing what. I finally knew what it was to be whole. John and I are part of the same - to pinch the words of the Beautiful South, "we are each other".

- Paula McMullen 

Alwyn and Troy -
December 2011 Australia

"To me marriage is all about team work, helping and supporting each other to become the best individuals you can be. Marriage is having a best friend who loves and supports you through everything and who doesn't walk away when things get tough. Having been with Troy for 11 years in a marriage like relationship prior to getting married, nothing much has changed in our relationship since marrying. Even though I don't see much of a difference between marriage and a defacto relationship, I believe in everyone's right to enter into marriage. Go team McNamara! - Alwyn McNamara

William Glanville and Berenice -
October 1946 - Cwmparc - Wales  

"Marriage between two people should be special and that you know in your heart that the person is the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. You should never go to bed without making up after a quarrel, which naturally you will have. Nobody is perfect. There's a lot of give and take in a marriage. You always love them and yet sometimes you don't even like them!" - Bun & Glan

 

Thommy and Emma
- Nov 2012- Cambridgeshire UK

"For a man like me, a man with a particular view of the world, this is an important thing. When you marry someone, you’re really saying that it’s you and this one other person against the world because, when shit hits the fan, this is the individual you’re expecting to stand by you and face down the zombies. We all have family and close friends, but a marriage is something special. It’s a partnership of two (hopefully) like-minded people who share a value system, at least on some level. How could it be otherwise? Your spouse should be the person with whom you are the best version of yourself at all times. You can be angry, you can be miserable, you can be sardonic or even hateful, but you should always present them with the truth, as far as is practicable. I’m not saying always unflinchingly tell the truth to them: white lies make socialisation with other humans possible, but you should always approach your spouse, your partner in this crazy life, as honestly as you hope to approach yourself." - Thommy Heasman-Hunt

 

This is an extract from a blog post Thommy wrote on his First Anniversary. You can read the full post here.

 

 

 

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Thanks to the couples who contributed to this blog post!

 

 

 

 

Guest Blog: The Jeans Genie vs The Genes Genie

Guest Blog by Helen Barbour of The Reluctant Perfectionist, a blog about life as a writer with obsessive-compulsive disorder. Helen attended my Blogging for Beginners and Improvers Workshop last November.  

 

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Guest Blogger: Helen Barbour

 

Let me start with a confession: I hate shopping. A genetic mix-up has left me with a love of action movies, but no interest whatsoever in buying clothes or shoes.

 

There is a special sub-category to my loathing: shopping for jeans. Thanks to another genetic anomaly, I have giraffe legs. The standard long in most shops is no match for an inside leg of 34”. Finding jeans that fit has never been easy. Now that I am ‘of a certain age’, it has become almost impossible.

 

 A much younger friend responded to my grumbles by recommending Top Shop, on the basis that their long was 34”.

 

I knew that Top Shop was for woman half my age, but I was desperate.

 

They certainly seemed to have a wide selection of styles, many in 34” length: skinny, slim, straight, tapered, boyfriend… I circled the displays half a dozen times, trying to find the cut I wanted. On each circuit, I discovered a new permutation of style, length and colour. Yet all of them looked much the same: painfully narrow, with a lack of fabric around the midriff.

 

I collared a young assistant. ‘I know I’m too old for this shop…’

 

‘Ah bless,’ she said.

 

‘…but a friend recommended you [it’s not my fault, I know I shouldn’t be here]. Do you – by any chance – have high‑waisted, long, boot-leg cut jeans.’ I said this very slowly, to enable her to take in the details of such a bizarre request.

 

She frowned. I might as well have been asking where the Higgs Boson Particle was.

 

‘The thing is,’ I blustered on, ‘I need a high-waist to hide my middle-aged spread.’

 

‘Ah bless,’ she said.

 

From Kissmequick on Tumblr

At this point, a vision flashed into my head of all the 20-something girls I’d seen with muffin tops ten times bigger than my pot belly spilling over the top of their jeans. They had no qualms about letting it all hang out – why should I? I suspect because it’s easier not to have qualms in your 20s. In your late 40s, a little more decorum is called for.

 

‘Mmm,’ she frowned again. ‘It’s a shame, our denim expert’s off today. She knows everything about our jeans.’

 

A denim expert? What next, a tee shirt tsar? A glove guru?

 

I tried on half a dozen pairs, anyway.

 

The worst were the skinny jeans. Not only did they cut off my blood flow, they also transformed my long, slim, straight legs into the bowed struts of a chicken wishbone.

 

Next time, I’ll head for the safe, middle‑aged embrace of M & S. I’d rather settle for jeans an inch too short, to safeguard my circulation – and keep my belly (button) to myself.

 

 

Visit Helen's blog The Reluctant Perfectionist

 

Do You Get Writer's Guilt?

 

It's ridiculous but I can't get it out of my head. Yesterday the gas man came over to do a routine check up on our boiler. I was hoping for a chatty man because I'd been home alone plotting a novel for over a week and was starting to hunger for human interaction. The gas man, however, was a quiet man.

 

I sat with my cork board slowly pinning post-it notes to it while he fiddled about with the gas reader. He declined my offer of a cup of tea.

 

As he finished off he said, 'Are you doing a course?'

'No, I'm plotting a novel,' I said. ' I'm a writer.'

The inevitable question came, 'What do you write?'

'Well, I've just written a romantic comedy.'

'Ah, rom coms,' he said knowingly, and then he uttered the words that would niggle at me for the rest of the day, 'a life of leisure then.'

 

I know I tried to justify myself. I said I did other jobs too. And as he slipped through the door I muttered incoherently that writing a hundred thousand words was not my idea of leisure. But it was too late. I was left feeling like I'd been smacked in the face, laughed at, belittled. I was a silly little girl, writing silly little stories, who spent her days relaxing while the rest of the world worked hard in the 'real' world.  

 

My mind kept going back to it, redrafting what I should have said. But he wouldn't have cared either way and why should he? I shouldn't care either, so, why does it bother me so much?

 

This morning, I decided it must be guilt. I'm one of those people that think if it doesn't hurt, you're probably not doing enough. I've always had a job, since I was a teenager. All the writing I ever did was done early in the morning before work, or in the evening. I was forever wishing I had more time. I felt like I was investing all my energy into some pointless job and giving the remains of myself to what I really wanted to do in life.

But I was disciplined because I wanted to be a writer so much, and I managed to finish a full-length novel, which I never did anything with, and later, after working on a blog for a long time, Shop Girl Diaries, which was published.

 

It's thanks to my husband's support that I now write full-time. It was him that suggested I take a year to just write. In that time I've often felt useless for not being able to contribute financially. At my lowest moments, Destiny's Child's song 'Independent Women', has played in my head, reminding me I didn't even buy my own notebook, let alone my own diamonds. But mostly, I've felt happy! Because what bliss it is to wake up to a whole day to write. For me, it's a dream come true.

 

I'm no longer a frustrated writer, which is not to say some days aren't hard going. But I love what I do. Since I've been writing full-time I've finished a new novel and at last got an agent. It is my job even if it doesn't feel like one.  

 

I suppose I felt guilty when Mr Gasman said I was living a life of leisure because I was enjoying myself, happy at my work. And what on earth is wrong with that?