Letter to my younger self - would I write one?

People write open letters to their younger selves and share them online. Have I done one yet? I don't think so, and the main reason is that I hate spoilers. I'm not sure my 16 year old self (or my 8 year old or my 12 year old or even my 30 year old) needs to know any of the things that will happen to her.

Look how cute young me is - she should stay spoiler-free I think

DD suggested that I tell her "don't worry about being bullied about walking funny or being terrible at sport as it turns out that at 36 you'll be diagnosed with Charcot-Marie-Tooth, so you are disabled not useless" but I think finding that out at 36 was a blessing really, if I'd known that at 16 would my choices in life have changed? Maybe I wouldn't have been so brave to explore the pyramids in Egypt in my 20s, and maybe my choices in having a child (the simply gorgeous DD) would have been different knowing I carried a hereditary mutant gene that affects the nerves and thus balance and strength throughout the body.

Camel Riding at Giza

I think I might tell 8 year old me not to panic for years about nuclear war, that the 'how to survive a nuclear winter' warnings never became needed (not yet at least) and that working out if you could get home to your parents in 4 minutes was just an unnecessary worry that spoiled times that should be fun, I think I would tell 8 year old me that the government were scaremongering idiots and to just enjoy the long hot summer holidays, because one day you have to go out to work and that's no fun.

Innocence of youth

I wouldn't tell 13 year old me that I would not marry a young teen heart throb (no, not even one of the Bay City Rollers)  but would in fact settle down to live happily for  30 years plus with a man 20 years my senior, I'm fairly sure 13 year old me would be horrified, and probably worried too. 13 year old me also wanted 6 children and I'm not sure telling her that it turns out having one perfect child is just what she needed and will love, would cheer her either.

I wondered if I should tell 19 year old me to get the tattoo! You wanted it and yet you acted so sensible, worrying it would be something you'd wish you had never had. You mentally argued for weeks before deciding to 'wait' and wait you did - until you were 40! But if I'd had my first tattoo in my teens I wouldn't have stopped, I would have lots of tattoos now and less canvas left to work with, and more importantly I wouldn't have been able to take 5 year old DD with me to see me get my 'sewn on' tattoo (as opposed to a temporary 'stick on' tattoo, a type I wore frequently before I had the permanent one. And that memory of mother and daughter, ink and blood, giggles and muffled swears is a memory I treasure.

A similar great memory is the first festival I ever went to - again with DD (and a friend and her daughter) not the drug and booze filled weekend of youth, but a hilarious time to be silly and let our hair down in a field, to discover the horror of festival toilets in the company of a 7 year old is the best fun! no, I don't think younger me needs to be prompted to go to festivals earlier than that.

DD at a festival

 There's no point in upsetting young me with tales of who dies and when, I don't think anyone I've loved has died with things I would like to say to them left unsaid. Maybe I could tell young me not to worry about my parents, that they hang around being just as odd as usual until DD is at least 16, but then I'd have to mention the lack of 6 children, so maybe not.

My mum and me

I certainly wouldn't warn young me of any internet perils! DD has been bridesmaid for a woman I met online, and we have viisted another friend, Mimi in California, twice since I started chatting to her years ago on an internet forum. I have so many online frineds, I think young me will enjoy discovering the fun of meeting new people that way, she always was a little shy.

DD taking her bridemaid role seriously

Is it a case of  je ne regrette rien? I think I'm lucky. I am 50. I have had an interesting life, a fun one. I have a house, family, I've travelled, owned dogs, had tattoos, and a child. I hope the next 50 years are as enjoyable.

Meeting Larry the wolf boy in the Californian Freak Show while visiting Mimi

So, Dear Young Me, enjoy yourself, you have so much excitement ahead. (oh but ask someone to buy you shares in Apple for your 15th birthday - trust me on that one)

Wordy Wednesday with Adele Yeomans

Today's Wednesday Author for Wordy Wednesday is Adele Yeomans. She is a spooktacular writer (see what I did there?) And I was tempted to save her for the end of October and All Hallow's Eve, but after some thought I decided to give you time to get your hand's on her creepy tales of hauntings, ready for a midnight read!

Her books Blackpool’s Haunted Heritage and Preston’s Haunted Heritage give an insight into the spookier side of these well-known Lancashire towns. With stories collected from some of the ‘haunted’ who live with these spectres daily, you will travel on a journey through some of the theatres, hotels, pubs, houses and old halls, where the boundary between the realm of the living and the dead is thin. From the truly horrific to the hilarious, this frightfully fun guide is packed with ghostly happenings of all kinds, written in a colourful style that is intended to both inform and entertain.

Adele says "From a personal point of view, my own home is featured heavily in the Blackpool’s Haunted Heritage book and it is why this one is my ‘favourite’"

So here are Adele's answers to my probing questions!

When did you start writing?
 Professionally, since 2007. I was approached by established author and TV Presenter Jason Karl to co-write a series of Haunted Heritage Books, following my own home being featured on Most Haunted! Prior to that I have always ‘written’, poetry, Blogs, but this was my first foray into ‘real writing’.

What 3 things (not including paper, computer, pens) would you like to facilitate a good days writing? 
I always like to light a scented candle ( gets me in the mood), in winter I love to escape to my office and light a fire, a cup of tea is good, but ideally I’d prefer (and sometimes have) a glass of fizz…and chocolate (Cadbury’s Buttons) !

Do you write to a schedule, eg every day or three times a week, set times, etc or do you write as and when the mood strikes? 
At the moment I’m too busy with my ‘real’ job to write daily, though I blog my tarot site fairly regularly, so I have to say it’s an ‘as and when thing’ currently.

Is writing your main source of income, I read lots of articles saying writers make no money, and my readers asked this question a lot! Can you survive on book writing alone? if not, what else do you do? 
As I say above, I run two businesses, quite diverse from each other - I own a wedding venue in Lancashire ( but I live in the Cotswolds now too) and an online Tarot Readings site which makes life interesting, but no… book writing hasn’t proved to be very profitable…yet.

What are your favourite biscuits? 
Jammy Dodgers

Tea or Coffee? 
Tea


Where do you do most of your writing? 
Life can be quite hectic travelling between two homes so I need to be flexible. I have an office in my home in Lancashire which I use when I’m up there but aside from that I write on the dining table, a lot... - more space for the tea and plate of jammy dodgers!

What book are you reading at the moment? 
‘Follow You Home’ by Mark Edwards

Do you use social media (facebook, twitter, instagram etc) to engage with your audience, do you think it helps sales and do you find it fun or a chore? 
Answering this question has made me realise that I don’t use it enough to push my books. I love social media, so I'm now making this a priority …I’ve been missing a trick here.

Do you own an e-reader? and do you prefer to read digital or paper copy? 
I do and I love it for holidays, but there’s nothing quite like handling a book, it is my preference and I still buy lots.

If you could genetically cross and animal with a fruit or vegetable what would you choose and why? I'm currently keen on an Aubergine Hippo, for the nice colour... 
Cats are my favourite animals – I have a black one, so I’d go for a cross between a cat and a rambutan – a hairy, prickly pink cat ..?? Cute - and slightly odd

If reading and writing were banned, what would you do instead?
Sing and dance….ooh nice choice

If you could bring a dead person back from the dead for one day to have tea and a natter with them, who would you choose and why? 
This is a no brainer…I’m a massive Shakespeare fan, so he’s my man. So many questions too, who / what inspired you and at what times in your life, where did you do your writing, which play do you love / hate, what haven’t you written about that you wish you had…?

Both my books can be bought from Amazon:


Preston's Haunted Heritage


Blackpool's Haunted Heritage

Huge thanks for taking part, I hope some readers are tempted by the thought of an evening of haunting tales...don't look behind you.

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A Quick Review of My Year - 2014

Spring was rather fabulous with a trip to California (well documented with many photos on the blog, pop back to my April posts for a recap if you missed it.) I was sad to leave my Mustang Convertible behind, I still miss that car – and the cheap US ‘gas’ prices! I also found my self not only nominated for a blogging award, but I became a finalist too! which has never happened before and I was so excited at being a finalist that I even trekked up to London to see who would beat me to the prize. Thank to all at BritMums for that little moment of excitement!

Summer was filled with festival fun, there was the awesomeness of being an official Camp Bestival blogger, where I met up with other lovely bloggers and also managed to convince my sister in law to camp (she hates camping) . What a fabulous festival it was for adults and kids alike. DD and I also went to Wilderness again, sitting in the rain listening to Sam Smith and a gospel choir was a highlight of mine, even though my camping chair broke. DD loved the roller disco far too much and I became addicted to Burger Bear burgers and Monkey Shoulder cocktails. Wadfest was as much stupid fun as you’d expect from a load of eccentric Pratchett fans let loose in an animal sanctuary with a load of Nerf guns and zombie costumes. Summer was also a time to be an author groupie again, meeting up with excellent writers (and drinkers) for a pub lunch in Olde Londone Towne. And of course summer was also the time that DD donated £5 to MND and did the ice bucket challenge, and I donated £50 to CMT to avoid the ice bucket challenge. The UK, and the world, went ice bucket crazy.

Autumn was a time of missing stuff. I missed the Beard and Moustache Competition in Bath, which was a great shame as the pictures looked amazing…all those beards that I wasn’t there to stroke. I also missed Ruth and Marc’s wedding, another fabulous and glamorous affair, with music and merriment. We did however get up to London in October to see the amazing display of poppies at the Tower. (I have bought a poppy so was especially keen to see the art work in situ – my poppy has yet to be delivered) In London DD was delighted to visit Harrods, and we made a trip into the Rain Forest Café too. Back home DD, DH and I ate the best steak we have ever tasted when we visited a local pub, the Thomas A’ Becket. I cannot recommend them highly enough. If you get the chance you really should eat there!

Winter was (as every winter!) time for my birthday, but it was also a time to see my niece in a hilarious pantomime starring stray spiders! As a family my parents and brother and I all got together for my mums birthday and an early Christmas as ‘some’ people were off on holiday over Christmas! Then it was DH’s birthday, DD’s birthday and a lovely relaxed and quiet Christmas at home…with the odd Nerf gun fight.

I hope you had a lovely 2014 …Next post, my plans for 2015! (including #DryJanuary )

A Utopia of Dystopias

utopia - 1 ( usually lowercase ) an ideal place or state.
            2 ( usually lowercase ) any visionary system of political or social perfection.

Dystopia - noun, a society characterised by human misery, as squalor, oppression, disease, and overcrowding.

I can't help noticing the influx on the YA (young adult) reading scene of the 'dystopian novel'. It seemed to catch fire (see what I did there?) with The Hunger Games and has continued with the Divergent series. Both sagas have been made into films.

There are so many of these novels on the shelves now. Uglies, Matched, Gone, I'm sure you could name dozens. 

Of course dystopian novels are nothing new. There was 1984 and Brave New world. The brilliant Do Androids dream of Electric Sheep (filmed as Blade Runner) and Fahrenheit 451.

But lately two things have struck me. The first is that they are very firnly aimed at young adults rather than adults and the second that they seem to also be aimed at girls. Female leads and heroines have been popular for a long time, Mina Harker in Dracula, Julia in 1984 to name a couple. But suddenly it seems the female lead is back with rather a bang!

Suddenly the 'feisty' (I hate that word!) female is the norm, the woman that notices the rot in the supposed utopia, revealing the horror beneath. The young girl  that dares to kick out against the society that controls everyone including her.


Is this only a blip? Or are our authors (male and female) seeing the important role the female lead can have in society?


Or maybe, they just realise that it's still the girls that do the most reading...


What do you think?


(and are there any great Dystopian Novels I've missed, with excellent female leads?)

 

A war time memory.

"My daughter was born at my sister’s house in November 1944. I returned home with her when she was three weeks old. I had photos taken at a studio soon after we arrived home. These were to be the only photos of my daughter before the accident. I hadn’t collected them from the photographers at the time of the plane crash so they survived.

Mosquito De Havilland

The plane crash was on the morning of Saturday 17th February 1945.

I had put my daughter outside the front door in her pram. I then went into the bedroom to tidy myself and to put my coat on. I was looking in the mirror when I saw this huge plane coming into the garden, it was silent, no engine. I thought that my baby would be all right as the plane was coming toward the back of the bungalow, so remembering what we had been told to do during raids etc. I lay on the floor. The last thing that I remembered was debris falling on me, which must have knocked me out for a few seconds. I came to and my wardrobe was holding up the ceiling where I was lying. I scrambled up, thinking that I must get to my baby, I walked through the bedroom to the lounge, there wasn’t a wall there any more and no glass in the windows. I fell out of the window and my friend was there and she helped me out.

I rushed round to where the pram was shouting “MY BABY!” by that time the bungalow was alight and burning rubble had fallen onto the pram. I was pulled away, still screaming for my baby but I was held back. A man who was visiting his brother’s family across the road ran over, and with his bare hands got my daughter out of the pram. When I saw how badly she was burnt I wished that God had taken her, as her little face was burned also her arm and hand. The man who lived opposite was about to take a bride to her wedding, but no more ado he came and took us to the hospital, ribbons flying.

I don’t think that I have ever spent a more unhappy night, my baby was crying and I couldn’t pick her up as my hands were bandaged, so I continually called the nurse. Eventually the Matron came and said, “ What are you making all the fuss for?”

The next day a Doctor came from East Grinstead hospital and we were taken there and we stayed for three months. Fortunately my baby was still able to breast feed. Which helped to save her life. She had saline bathes everyday and was the youngest patient they had ever had.

My husband was serving in India at the time of the crash and didn’t even know that he had a daughter until she was about four months old. He didn’t know about the accident because his mother had written to him and just said that I couldn’t write as I had hurt my hands. (I used to write several times a week).

The first thing that he knew about it was when one of the fellows that was with him had the Local newspaper sent to him and this news was on the front page. You can imagine the shock. He put in for leave but wasn’t allowed to come home. Our daughter was nearly two years old before he came home and saw her, he walked through the door and she was in her high chair, my husband kissed me and she said, “Oh Mama!”.

We spent years going to and fro to East Grinstead for her to have skin grafts; she had the last one when she was sixteen.

There were five people killed that day including both pilots, we were the only two saved."

The memorial to those that died

Record of the crash on Flight Safety Org
(My Grandmother, Jan 1917 - June 1999  wrote this account in about 1995, the baby is my mum)