#Jaye’s Journal ~ week 33

Jaye's Journal x12

 

“Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen…”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

I have a pretty big bone to pick with Mr Emerson, for in my experience, he had it backwards. Just try to make a decision and see what happens.

The minute you do, unseen forces start to work to make bloody sure it won’t happen, and it seems to have all the resources in the world at its disposal.

This year, it has been one thing after another to slow down our working progress and my current WIP, PayBack has taken several ages to finish.

Most of it was to be expected to be fair, what with various age-related ailments and the eyesight falling to record levels. Then the extended period of surgery, first one eye and then the other. Throw in a cartload of family problems and the result isn’t pretty. If I could see where I was going, I might start running!

I have been blessed cursed with more than my share of patience, so I have weathered each obstacle and handled it to the best of my ability, but it has left its mark. I am so tired of never getting where I want to be. Of constantly fighting that small voice in my head that tells me to give up and forget about everything, to go and sit in the garden.

Well, that idea is very tempting and if it stopped raining for a while, I probably would. I have been known to sit out there, rain and all, but I can’t get my freshly hacked eye wet, so not this time.

Speaking of the latest eye surgery. After the first time. I thought I was prepared for the ordeal. It isn’t a pleasant procedure and left me giddy and feeling very sick last time, but it didn’t hurt at all and the improvement in that eye was almost immediate.

This time it hurt. It felt as though he was gouging my eye out with a spoon and several times, I nearly signalled him to stop as I feared it would get worse, but he managed to finish without me screaming the place down. Like last time, I was giddy and nauseous, but also very upset. He never apologised for hurting me, or asked if I was all right, just disappeared, leaving the nurses to take care of me. They were wonderful, and after a lovely cup of coffee and ginger biscuits, I felt better. The eye was aching, and this would continue for several days.

Two days on, and the ache is fading. I am a little disappointed with the result so far, compared to the first eye. The sepia effect has gone but the lens glare is worse this time. The first eye manages without glasses now, but the vision in the second eye is still blurred.

(They don’t tell you about the lens glare, and it was disturbing until I discovered what it was. My first thought was that the new lens was loose and/or trying to come out, but I was seeing the edge of the lens catching the light. This fades as the lens beds itself in its new home and the edge of the scar heals over…)

I am not allowed to do much for a while, bending, lifting, wash my hair etc… so I thought I could get cracking on the preparation for the book launch. A golden opportunity to sit at my computer all day, or so I thought. But the eyes get very tired, so not getting as much done as I thought.

Hopefully, all of this will pass and the sooner the better…

 

(Thank you for all your kind thoughts and for listening!)

 

 

 

Thursday photo prompt: Journey #writephoto

pensitivity101

Welcome to Sue Vincent’s weekly Write Photo challenge. Every week, she provides us with one of her photographs.

For visually challenged writers, theimage shows a green hill against a misty, grey sky. Across the top of the hill strides a strangely proportioned figure. His head is bowed and he is carrying a staff.
He had travelled many miles, living off the land on his solitary journey.
Where his destination was, he had no idea other than he would know when he arrived.
Strange cloud like creatures littered the hillside. They walked on spindly legs eating the grass unchallenged and were totally uninterested in this stranger.
He did not see the two of them watching from the tree.
No more the size of his foot, they blended and merged with the leafy shadows, unseen and unheard, but aware of his presence.
He trundled on.
The sky was grey, yet…

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The King is Dead

pensitivity101

That was the headlines 42 years ago today, the day when Elvis Presley died at the age of 42. It is the symmetry of the time passed and his age that has triggered this post.

I remember I was in bed listening to Radio Luxembourg when the news came across the air waves. Luxembourg was an evening commercial station, running adverts between the records, but that night everything stopped and it was Elvis cover to cover.
They played nothing but Elvis songs, and no adverts whatsoever.

I was never a true fan, though I’d seen his films and yeah, he was a good looking guy who could sing and strum a guitar.
That all changed in the ’60s, the first record I bought being In the Ghetto.
Then I bought a lot more, including Kentucky Rain, Don’t Cry Daddy, Suspicious Minds and The Wonder of You.
The 45s all had…

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Creative Flame – How Trying To Write To Market Made Me Lose My Way

Helen Jones

I think I mentioned, when I came back to blogging, that I’d taken some time off to work on a book called The Last Raven. It’s one of the most complex stories I’ve ever written so I needed to focus on it, and also on my goal of getting a traditional publishing deal.

So how’s that going? Well, it turns out that The Last Raven, in its current state, is an ‘almost’ book. I’ve had several full manuscript requests, from both agents and publishers, but nothing has actually come of it. Lots of people have liked it, think it’s an original concept, and have given me advice and feedback. I’ve taken my story apart and put it back together again. But still, nothing.

Apparently, when you get to this point, when you’re getting feedback and requests and people are interested, you’re ‘thisclose’ to getting representation or a publishing…

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In a pinch, your phone can read to you

Myths of the Mirror

Back in May, all of a sudden, I was going to be spending about 12 hours on the road every week shuttling between Oregon and Washington to care for my parents.  Add to that, the daily commutes between homes, appointments, and errands.

What better use of the time than to listen to books.

But I didn’t have Audible, didn’t have time to look up books, and didn’t have unlimited funds. AND I had a teetering pile of ebooks that I hadn’t read. Hmm…

Can I have my antique, cracked iPhone read to me?

The answer was YES.

The Pros:

1. I “read” a bunch of books that were languishing in my Kindle file.

2. A book doesn’t need to be an audiobook to listen to it.

3. I accessed the books through the Kindle App on the phone.

4. It’s easy to do (mostly).

5. The reading speed is adjustable.

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Dreaming Stones: Hitting the wall…

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

After the odd meeting  with the woman at the pub, we now felt we had to visit Hadrian’s Wall. It had been on my mind for a while, for some reason, and had cropped up a lot in odd places as I read and researched various things. I admit that I felt that Stuart should one day see at least part of it… I have fond memories of time spent in the area and at the isolated Mithraeum on the moors in particular.  The trouble was, well…Romans.

geograph-5929898-by-Trevor-Littlewood

Now, it has to be said that, along with plumbing, central heating and a host of technological and educational innovations, the Romans brought a ‘civilising’ influence to the country that came to be known as Britain. But you have to take the word in a literal sense… they built cities. And with cities, you get administration, record-keeping, statutes and organisation… and control. In…

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Tastes better with jam… #FlashFiction #horror #humor @Charli_Mills

Barb Taub

I don’t write horror or flash fiction. Except, apparently, when I do…

In response flash fiction challenge from Charli Mills at Carrot Ranch: August 15, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes a sweet jam. It can take you to the kitchen or the smokey room of a back-alley bar. What makes it sweet? Go where the prompt leads you! 


Everything Tastes Better With Jam

She hesitated, then entered the alley, her stilettos clicking, hands cradling the large jar. Under a streetlight, dark windows on all sides and dead end ahead, she stopped. Her follower straightened, light glancing off the blade in his hand.

She turned, smiling.

Silent figures gathered behind her attacker, surrounding him. One held out an arm for her sweet jam. “Glad you could make it. How’s your mama?”

She waited politely until the screaming stopped abruptly. “She’s…

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Journey #writephoto

Trent's World (the Blog)

journey-sue-vincent Photo by Sue Vincent

I don’t remember ever being so hungry.  Starved.  What an awful journey!  I cursed our captain and king, and went over the ridge.

Just think, we had been staying in a land where the fruit was unlimited.  There was nothing to do but sit back, eat, sleep and enjoy ourselves.  After all of those years of war, what more could a man ask for?  But no, we had to move on, continue our journey.

The idiot.

I stopped and pointed.  The weeds had been close cropped, so I assumed there was something edible around, but my suspicions were proved correct when I spotted the sheep.

Oh, delicious mutton!  Lamb steaks!  Lamb chops!

Actually, any meat would do, but this was glorious.

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Polishing a Turd…

Stevie Turner

My blogging friend Phil Huston, in his own inimitable style, gave me the inspiration for a blog today when he left the comment below on my Open Book Blog Hop earlier this week:

Man I could polish a turd until you could shave in it.  I see something and I go, “Oh, shit.  That could be so much better.”  

I mentioned in this week’s Open Book that unless I can think of a great subject for a book, then I won’t write a thing.  What’s the point?  Readers will know if I’ve written something just for the sake of it.  I tend to sit back until inspiration strikes, and that could be many weeks or months before the right topic comes along.

So… here’s the question:

Do you feel that you need to keep writing even when you know what you’re writing is shite?  We tell ourselves…

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