“A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word on paper.”
“Don’t get it right, just get it written.”
– James Thurber
I healed. Not completely. A scar is never the same as good flesh, but it stops the bleeding.
– Robin Hobb, Assassin’s Quest
The couple were young. Perhaps too young to be making the commitment they just had, but who was I to judge? Over 4,000 years of fidelity to my husband hadn’t made me any wiser.
At least this couple seemed happy.
The crisp Autumn day teased the breath from my mouth in delicate plumes as I watched the bride. She reached up, planting a chaste, mirthful kiss on her groom’s cheek. It looked the best of what my own marriage could have been. I pressed the shutter and the flash burned the image on the film permanently, filling me with the bitter-sweet satisfaction only my job could provide.
Photography. Of all the things humans have invented, photography is my favourite. Its simplicity and accuracy appeals to me like nothing else has in my lifetime; its ability to capture the most fleeting of moments, and preserve forever real and pure emotions.
There is a twisted vicarious pleasure in what I do.
Constance Evergreen, Wedding Photographer. Faithful photographs you’ll love as much as your spouse!
Admittedly, the tagline is a little garish for my taste, but it seems to work.
My husband finds my hobby amusing, but he is as supportive as he can be. He once offered to help me but, after he successfully encouraged the groom to sleep with his bride’s mother ten minutes before the ceremony, I declined further aid.
The new Mr and Mrs. Brown hold each other’s hands aloft for the final snap and I take it, dismissing them afterwards with a cheery promise of candid photos to follow. The crowd disperses and I see him standing still and alone. He leans disrespectfully on a worn headstone, his feet planted firmly on the grave dirt. I let the mortals disappear first before approaching him. Continue reading
Tuesday’s Tea: A Minty McGinty. Cocoa and peppermint, mixed with rooibos leaves for a sweet, caffeine free mug of goodness.
So, I’m sitting on the floor in the corner of my room, slowly letting my bottom fall asleep. My nieces have taken all the comfortable writing spots in the house, but that’s okay. Such are the trials a writer has to face when they write in a family household. Another such trial is attempting to concentrate when a five-year old is singing ‘Walk Like an Egyptian’ whilst dressed like a Pharaoh. Also cartwheels.
So. Many. Cartwheels.
Today is the second of three days I took off work to make some headway with The Winter Court. I’ve changed the plot of this book three times, so you know it’s giving me some trouble. I finally settled on a path I like very much, but now I have to get the words down. And not just any words. The right words, in the right order.
I’ll be honest, it’s hard to do when you’ve got a full house. I’ve been compensating for this difficulty with plentiful cups of Minty McGinty and a large slice of Surprise Victoria Spongecake.
Let me explain about Surprise Victoria Spongecake. Continue reading
Those of you who tune into my Twitter feed may have already seen my first real milestone. On Friday, I received my first rejection letter for a query re. The Elder Throne.
It was an exceptionally polite and nice rejection letter, and I wouldn’t mind receiving such a missive again from them. Obviously, the basic message was still ‘no thank you’, which led me to conclude four things:
- Rejection isn’t as heart-crushingly awful as I thought it would be.
- My fellow writer friends (notably Lucy Flint, S.E. Berrow, Julie Hutchings and Mandy Rabin) are lovely, lovely people.
- The Elder Throne may not be as finished as I thought it was (but I’m waiting to make a decision on that one until after I receive replies from the outstanding 4 queries I sent).
- I can absolutely do this writing thing.