Don’t Tell People With Mental Health Problems This

I really like this post. I have seen this from different perspectives and the language we use flippantly is so impactful, often without us realising. Some might say, we shouldn’t have to sugar coat it. Others will argue we need to think before we speak. The most important thing for me is that we are discussing this out in the open rather than burying the subject of mental health.

Originally posted on Lifesfinewhine: Mental Health Awareness Month As you guys know May is Mental Health Awareness Month and therefore I decided to …

Don’t Tell People With Mental Health Problems This

My Own Writing – Looking Back

As it is now two years since my very first novella was released, I wanted to share a small sample of it with you. I am still proud of this first project as it was for me a massive deal and I learned so much from writing, editing, publishing and promoting it.

Fancy reading a book packed full of drama, friendship and dealing with the aftermath of an unexpected death?

Honestly, I am nervous sharing a segment on my blog but I hope you appreciate that this was my stepping stone into writing and I really love all of the projects that I have since engaged with.

Extract from ‘The Fathers, the Sons and the Anxious Ghost’

I went home to find Mum going through some of Dad’s things. She looked fed up, and I asked her if she wanted a cup of tea or something, but she just shook her head and carried on sorting stuff into piles. When I came back from making myself a drink, she was outside starting a fire. I could see a pile of clothes slowly starting to burn. Running out to stop her, she pushed me away and began to cry. She hurried indoors, and I used the hose pipe to put out the fire, but the clothes were already ruined. When I returned inside, Mum was sitting on the kitchen floor, sobbing and rocking slowly. I tried to give her a hug; and this time, for once, she allowed me to. We sat there for about half an hour before I was able to convince her to go to bed and rest. She never said a word but forced a smile as I guided her towards the staircase. I was straight on the phone to Sam, wondering if he had seen my elusive father.

Sam picked up and I had it out with him. People used to think that I was weedy and shy, but when I got riled up about something, I just let rip! Sam’s ears were probably bleeding as he quietly listened, saying ‘mhmm’ once in a while to suggest that he was still with me. After I had gone on about how his dad had destroyed my mum’s marriage, I calmed down a bit, and we had a more ordinary conversation. To be honest, it was hard to stay mad at Sam, as he was a genuinely nice guy. It wasn’t his fault at all. Calming me down further, Sam offered to meet up and talk more, but he also told me that Alfie was beginning to worry about Tess. I wondered why he never mentioned it earlier on when we were smoking by the park. Sam just sort of dropped it into the conversation, perhaps to distract me further. Both Sam and I had always looked out for Tess. We worried that one day her mum’s death might get to her. Maybe that time had finally come. It was bound to at some point, and we didn’t think Alfie would be much use in those circumstances. I grabbed my coat and popped to see Sam and find out what he had managed to discover so far.

The Fathers, the Sons and the Anxious Ghost

I wrote this poem to celebrate my first book. It remained in my draft folder, until now.

Three men have families full of much joy,

They watch a school play, which they do not enjoy,

Their wives are quite different, and one is upset,

Their children are sometimes half full of regret.

The sons tell a part of the story indeed,

They all find a course in which they hope to succeed,

One daughter is affected by events in the past,

And the family bonds, well they don’t always last.

Emotions are rife in this dramatic tale,

Of friendship, romance, loss and apparently betrayal,

The characters laugh and cry and dwell,

Their consciences often narrating the story they tell.

Here is a recent post I write about the process of conceiving this story: