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do you guys have a story in your head and when you’re bored you just add more to it and continue from where you left off

When You Skip a Day of Writing


AFMOH Snippet

I took out my purse and counted what I had. 8 pounds, 9 shillings and sixpence. Plus a pound a week in pay.

My optimism of the weekend had been checked. I now looked at this meagre collection of coins and tried to calculate how long it would last me if I scrimped and saved.

Someone knocked on the door. “Come in,” I said.

Charlie entered. He’d avoided me since our trip into town two days ago. I told myself it was best that he did, but it still felt lonely.

“Don’t mind mum,” he said, sitting down on the bed. “And put this stuff away.” He gathered up the coins, put them in the purse, and laid the purse on my lap, folding my hands over it while I watched him mutely.

I felt my eyes well with tears. I had never been a cryer. My friends used to joke I had a heart of stone because we’d watched Baz Lurhmann’s Romeo + Juliet in Year 9 and I had been the only one in my class who hadn’t cried. And yet, here I was, preparing to blub again.

“Hey, shh,” said Charlie. “Don’t cry, odd ‘un.” He put his hand up under my chin so he could brush my cheek with his thumb.

I leaned back and his hand dropped. He blinked twice, brow furrowed. “Anyway,” he said, getting up and brushing his hands down his trousers, “don’t worry about the rent. I’ll have a chat with mum and fix with her what she needs.” He hesitated, hand on the doorjamb. “See you at tea.”

I nodded wordlessly.

Uh oh, Charlie. Watch out for your heart. ;o [A Fair Measure of Happiness]


Well, that’s niiiiiiiiice.

from A Fair Measure of Happiness (on Wattpad) http://w.tt/1RWyBZl

Me, writing: Have I already had someone shrug recently? Yeah I think she shrugged like two minutes ago already. I’m pretty sure I’ve written someone chuckling like five times. Everyone chuckles so goddamn much. Maybe everything is just super amusing here. How about I switch it up a bit and have someone raise an eyebrow curiously yeah that’ll work hell yeah

Some aesthetics for A Fair Measure of Happiness.

No writing is wasted. Did you know that sourdough from San Francisco is leavened partly by a bacteria called lactobacillus sanfrancisensis? It is native to the soil there, and does not do well elsewhere. But any kitchen can become an ecosystem. If you bake a lot, your kitchen will become a happy home to wild yeasts, and all your bread will taste better. Even a failed loaf is not wasted. Likewise, cheese makers wash the dairy floor with whey. Tomato gardeners compost with rotten tomatoes. No writing is wasted: the words you can’t put in your book can wash the floor, live in the soil, lurk around in the air. They will make the next words better.

ERIN BOW (via garnetglitter)

Ooh. I like this metaphor.

(via seriouslyamerica)

I’m posting my NaNoWriMo as I write! It’s called A Fair Measure of Happiness and it’s a time travel romance set in the 1920s in the East End of London. Blurb below!

Places have memories. Objects remember, and stone, fabric and wood never forget. They call out across time, and sometimes people hear them.

The first time Emma Scott time-travelled, she was ten years old, and she went backwards by fifteen minutes because she picked up a toy that a child had dropped in the street.

Nine years later, Emma comes back to London for her grandmother’s funeral. Grandmother has left her a bequest: an old emerald ring, some of its stones fallen out, but lovingly polished and cared for. Then Emma starts having strange, vivid dreams. Of herself walking through the East End as she’s seen it in black-and-white photographs. Of a woman and a baby. And a man named Charlie with a charming smile and a secret.

Because the ring remembers something tragic that happened on Mile End road in 1921, and Emma is about to witness it first-hand.