Tag Archives: Words

Read ‘Em And Weep

Anyone who is friends with me on Facebook, follows me on Twitter or, unlikely as it seems, occasionally looks at my Google+ account, will know that for the past two years or so I have been undertaking a reading marathon of Pratchett proportions.

I started with The Colour of Magic and continued with all 41 Discworld novels, as well as the maps, cookbooks, tourist guides, kids books and short story collections. After this I started on the non-Discworld books – Strata, The Dark Side of the Sun, the Bromeliad trilogy, the Johnny Maxwell books, etc.

The reason for this single-minded readathon are numerous, I tend to reread my Pratchett collection every few years anyway, but after his untimely death in 2015 I couldn’t bring myself to pick up a book by any other author.

I assumed this feeling would pass but several months later I was still in the same mood, a year later I felt the same, two years later and I was still in my reading rut.

Seemingly unrelated, about two months ago we got notice that our landlord wanted their house back, which was a bit inconvenient because we were just in the middle of trying to find somewhere of our own to buy. Scroll on to about a week ago and the house is full of boxes as we get ready to move to a new rental. I was packing up my Pratchett collection (shudder) and amongst them I found my Kindle, untouched since I picked up The Colour of Magic.

I wasn’t sure what to do with it so I left it on top of my drawers in our bedroom. Then, last Sunday night I was getting my stuff ready for work the next day and thought “why the hell not” and slipped the e-reader into my bag.

When I arrived at the train station on Monday morning I got it out and started reading (American Gods by Neil Gaiman, if you must know!), and have been doing so on every journey to work and back since. It seems my reading mojo has returned and, with it, my brain has also fallen off a deep precepice into the icy waters of “I Have To Write” again.

Ideas are sloshing around inside my head like a particularly spectacular Formula One pile up and my fingers are itching to type. But what to do first?

I’ve been working on a few things, slowly, for the past few months, a Discworld fan-fiction piece about Rincewind; a comedy fantasy novel about a vampire; a biography about my life as a type one diabetic; a kids book I’ve been working on for a couple of years now.

All these conflicting stories are arguing for precedence, so what I’m going to do is…go to sleep! Life is complicated enough at the moment without worrying about what and when to write, so I just need to put digits to keyboard whenever I get the chance.

Wish me luck!


Poem (What???) – Falling Over

I don’t class myself in any way as a poet! I have no roll-neck tops, I don’t drink real ale, I’m not a teenage girl, I don’t, generally, write poetry.

However on occasion I do write rhyming, or otherwise, verse. Usually with a view to turning it into a song at some point. However if the idea never develops then I guess what you’re left with is poetry!?

So tonight I’m posting what can only be referred to as a song without music, or poem. I don’t think I was in a good place when I wrote this one, although I can’t remember rightly and I always aim my songs towards the Alice In Chains/Nirvana/crying yourself to sleep genre.

Here it is.



Can I have the time please?

‘Cause I think that mine is running out,

If I close my mouth,

It’ll mean that I can shout.


Falling Over,

Push myself back off the floor,

Not another,

I can’t feel this any more.


Show me the way,

So I can start to see,

Hold me still,

So I can start to feel free.


Fallen Over,

Peel me off the silent floor,

Not again,

Ignore me as you close the door.