#Writephoto ~ Tokens

Thursday photo prompt: Tokens #writephoto

Image by scvincent.com

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a feather, an autumn leaf and two bright red berries or beads, left amongst the stones and plants by a stone that looks like a head with jewelled eyes…

There’s a kind of déjà vu
a message going on here
First Jaye calls me into the office
to see one of our followers
Beautiful pictures of an eagle
Who while flying above his head?
dropped a flight feather

Image by Tofino Photography. WordPress.com

Next day, Jaye noticed a feather
Had dropped into one of her bonsai trees
During the high wind we were having
To me, it looked like an arrow or a dart

Image by Jaye Marie

Now, this prompt from Sue, making it the third time
Which is said to be a meaningful coincidence
I don’t understand the message here
Or what it might mean
But I digress. Back to the third feather
It could mean all sorts
Icarus could have flown over
Mercury too, may have lost a feather from his boot
This seems to be a different meaning
The head with the dark eyes looks like an owl
Yet behind that, I see a tiny face in the leaves
Whose tiny turned down mouth
and dark sad eyes, gives him a perplexed look
Could be the message is one of sadness
The summer is over, berries, autumn leaves have fallen
his sadness is not for the loss of summer
I think the meaning more dire, a warning
The kind that most of us ignore,
brush aside as superstition
This kind of thing drives me mad
I need to know, to understand
There is so much I never find the answer to
I guess I’m not the only one…

©anitadawes 2020

Progress Report! (Or how I learned to love my work again!)

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BABY STEPS!

 

I have been an editor/proof-reader for years and always considered myself reasonably good at my job. I never had any complaints, which is my benchmark for how good you really are. In fact, several Literary Agents complimented me on the quality of our submissions.

English was always my favourite subject and I read a lot of books, but never once considered being a writer. I was far too busy managing Anita’s books, back in the day when manuscripts had to be submitted to agents and publishers in a very particular fashion.

Over the years, we received stacks of very encouraging and favourable letters from both agents and publishers alike, almost leading to publication a couple of times but sadly, despite almost being good enough, Anita was never published.

This might have been why I didn’t think of being a writer, after all, I knew better than most, just how bloody hard it was. But eventually, my muse arrived. This was just after the Kindle phenomena took off. Suddenly, everyone could publish their books on Amazon, and it was supposed to be so easy, anyone could do it.

I have to say, in fairness to all the wonderful writers out there, I did find it very hard to write a full-length book. 70.000 words seemed an impossible target, and I doubted my capabilities every step of the way. That first book taught me so much about plot and dialogue, character arcs and subplots, even though it made my head spin. The day I finished Nine Lives, a sense of achievement crept over me as I realised I had become a writer!

That was in 2014, and I went on to write two more thrillers after that. Most of you will know the fun I have had finding the right covers for my books, but I didn’t worry about the content at all. After all, I checked them for spelling errors and I had my editor head on, so they had to be fine.

Or so I thought.

What happened to make me doubt myself?

I had written a memoir/novella about my fight with breast cancer and published it on Amazon. It received one review that commented on how short it was, and when I took a long hard look at it, I had to agree. Not only was it far too short, it could be a lot better. That was when I knew I would have to check my other books too.

I read Nine Lives again and was shocked at the state of it. Where was all the brilliant writing, the competent editor, the jaw-dropping prose? To say I was disappointed would be putting it mildly, I wanted to crawl away and die. For nearly a week, I battled with unpublishing my books and throwing them away, for the thought of rewriting them seemed an impossible task.

Gradually, common sense prevailed. They were my babies, I was an editor, I could fix this.

One thought kept me going. If I can now recognise the faults in my writing, does that mean I have improved over the years? I am pretty sure I have, for I am looking at my work with a totally different mindset. Most of what I see is amateur, almost childish. There were so many repeated and wimpy words and adjectives by the bucket load. It probably would have been easier to start afresh, but I am nothing if not stubborn, so I have tried to improve all three books, or die trying! They might be the only thing I leave this world to remember me by!

 

Did you spot the Hidden Message?

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As I sit in front of my pc

Thunder and lightning

try to break through my window

A symphony to the anger of the world

A wake-up call, HELLO from the universe

Thunder cracking TO the beat of my heart

ALL my thoughts spark, arcing

Whispered thoughts from a few of OUR FOLLOWERS,

This lifted the day, the dark mood that came over me

Vanished. I HAVE time for lunch, have a cup of coffee

I could end up having A GOOD DAY!

©anitadawes 2020

Did you spot the Hidden Message?

“Hello to all our followers, have a good day!”

Bcgrpknni

P.S.  Audrey Driscoll almost made it with “I hope you did have a good day!”

John Howell said “Comments from followers can alter the day from bad to good…”

So, where were the rest of you?

#TheSundayWhirl ~ Wordle 445

 

I will take it, make it mine

Will tomorrow be as good as yesterday?

The storyteller began his tale

On his neck hung a chain

With a bright jewel

Which held the mystery

So he said.

I ask him about it

Truly, I wanted it

I felt like Gollum.

He winked at me

It’s but a wee thing

Nothing special.

This angered me

which felt like a small

stone growing inside me

I knew I would do anything

to have it

Watching as it changed colour

from blue to green then blue again

It flickered, as if a shifting light

lay behind it

It will be mine.

His story ended with a question

Where does magic come from?

From the jewel around your neck

I thought.

The heat of the day was fading

Dark tendrils of night swept across

the dark sky

Right now, my only thought

will he sleep outside

with the rest of us

Or move on like a wandering minstrel?

I thought him sly

Neither minstrel nor storyteller

He lay his cloak on the ground

as we did

Faking sleep I’m sure.

I kept one eye on him

When time passed

I crept closer

Lay awhile listening

to his breathing

I couldn’t tell if sleep had taken him.

Sly as a fox, I slid my hand beneath his collar

Trying to undo the clasp, he woke

I slammed my fist into his face

He lay quiet.

The jewel and I took off

Not turning to see who I might have woken

I ran deep into the woods before stopping

To look at my prize

Heart beating, legs shaking,

I slumped beneath a giant oak tree

Glad of its support against my back

Opening my hand, the jewel shone

Like the eye of God

Now all I need is for the magic to start…

 

©anitadawes 2020

I Tried Something New… #Poetry

 

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Image by Sasin Tipchai from Pixabay

 

                                      I Tried Something New…

                                           One day I will make it to the top

                                           Who is there to tell me no? He

                                            Knows where I hide

                                            My past I do not want spoken

                                            Secrets that may take my life

                                            Can I run, find shelter, stay hidden?

                                           Tell no one about my dark side

                                            My life has been so wrong

                                           Stories have been whispered, made up…

                                                               ©anitadawes 2020

Not a Good Week?

 

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Image by Colin Behrens from Pixabay 

 

Already I am not enjoying 2020 much.

I don’t feel right and my brain is refusing to do anything constructive. Inspiration seems to be on holiday, and if I get any slower, I’ll be at a standstill.

 

The results of the mammogram I had just before Christmas hasn’t arrived yet, and until they do, I always fear the worse and this is probably affecting everything else.

Various appliances around the house are playing up and the kitchen light died last week. It’s one of those circular fluorescent tube lights and finding any replacement tubes is getting difficult. I really should replace it but can’t face doing it now.

So, the only light we have in the kitchen comes from the cooker hood, which is not ideal. You risk being poisoned in our house this week as I cannot see what I’m doing!

And can you guess how many times I have switched on the light and waited for it to come on?

The internet is being its usual annoying self, and I am getting so tired of nothing working the way it’s supposed to.

And finally, I have made an appointment at the opticians, as my eyes are tired, and the headaches are getting worse. I worry that they did something wrong when the cataract was removed last year, so best to get it checked out.

 

But…

 

The light tube turned up and I can now see what I’m doing in the kitchen.

The results of the mammogram turned up and ‘show nothing suspicious’ so I am delighted to be another year free from cancer. Four years now, so looking good!

Had my eyes tested again and will have to have new glasses as my eyes have changed again since the cataracts were removed last year. Two new pairs cost me a bloody fortune too, but I was assured that my eyes should settle down now.

No improvement in the brain /inspiration department, but at least I am trying to find a way around it. I mean, everything else seems to be on the up…

©Jaye Marie 2020

 

One mind… #Poetry

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

One mind

I am still here, writing words

that bleed into the universe

Looking for greater meaning

To find a like-minded soul

To share the agony with

To fill the space between four walls

With conversation, understanding,

Two minds wired the same way

Each giving to the other

Finding ways to understand the impossible

Wandering through the universe

And back again, in time for tea…

©anitadawes

Crazy… #Poetry

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

Crazy

Do you suffer as I do?

With a melody in the back of your mind

With words you cannot find

Taking the 45 bus to Brixton

A middle-aged woman in the seat behind you

Humming the tune in your head

Do you ask her, only for her to say

She has no idea why it’s in her head

Days later you’re passing a building site

Where the tune is being whistled

by a burly bricklayer.

He too cannot answer your question

A child in the playground, skipping to your tune.

You end up standing in a record shop

Humming it for the assistant

He places an EP on the record player

It’s the tune from an advert,

no longer stuck in your head

The title of which was ‘Many Rivers to Cross.’

It almost drove me crazy

I wondered if we had all crossed the same river…

©anitadawes