The official website for Tessa Barrie and her Alter Ego, Sally Edmondson, or is it the other way around? Home of the forgetfully funny Dotage Diaries and squibs about my life to date and how I've survived it.
Fortunately, when you are blessed with a virtual hand-holding mentor, who knows when to back off for a while to let you to sort your demons out, confident in the knowledge she’ll step back in again to sort out the problem, once you’ve find your feet again.
I had a significant confidence wobble last night. I am not quite sure why, when I am so close to achieving my goal, as I can – finally – see the light at the end of the tunnel, I suddenly felt like a jellied mass with a blancmange for brains.
I had set my heart on being traditionally published and, during the first lockdown, I was presented with the best opportunity I would ever have to buff up my manuscript. Over twelve months later, the competition from others vying to see their name in print is fiercer than it has ever been. In the current climate, agents will struggle to find the time to read all the MS’s are receiving from the ever-growing numbers of wannabe authors.
2021 was the time to ‘get myself out there.’ I’m no spring chicken, so I need to get on with it. So why did I hang around when I’ve been sitting on a finished manuscript for such a long time? Well, however old you are, your self-confidence often needs buoying up, even if you believe you have a story worth telling, and there is no better person to do that than your editor.
I stumbled across this image today posted on FB by the author Laurie Buchanan. It made me realise how dilatory I have been recently, when it comes to reading and reviewing the work of self-published authors, many of whom are friends. Reading and reviewing books by self-published authors is key to their success. Reviews, good or bad, areContinue reading “SELF-PUBLISHED AUTHORS & THE IMPORTANCE OF WRITING A REVIEW”
So how come I can remember what my homework was when I was eleven, but can’t remember which floor of the multi-story park I left my car an hour ago? Well, I am reliably informed that it is something to do with decreased blood flow to the brain. I used to be able to stand on my head. I wonder if I still can? It might be an idea to try to precipitate a rush of blood to my brains.
‘What do you mean you’re not sure? What is it about men and asking for directions? I’ll sort this out.’ Sliding the passenger door open, Lisa got out of the campervan and walked towards the smiling stranger. He was wearing a check shirt, and a large beret at a kilter, which Lisa assumed was the Basque tradition. He staggered and almost fell, reaching out to grab hold of Lisa’s outstretched arms to steady himself.
The growing pains of a virgin novelist are real. It will be six years at the end of June since I started writing my first novel. At various intervals during that time, I celebrated reaching ‘The End’ but realised, after all that deluded carousing, writing a novel is more than just telling a story.
Turning forty, Lisa still bears the scars of her dysfunctional childhood. Her narcissist mother, Elizabeth, is responsible for her insecurities and Lisa needs to break the negative emotional hold Elizabeth has over her. Harnessing her journalistic skills, Lisa investigates her mother’s past and is shocked by what she uncovers.
Yesterday at dawn, I was woken by my cat purring in my ear. There are worst ways of being woken up. Throwing back the curtains, I was greeted by a spectacular sunrise bursting across the horizon and the inspirational light, together with the birdsong, quite took my breath away. A vast, glowing sphere of hotContinue reading “Morning Glow – The Inspirational Light of Dawn”
To be honest, in 2019, I didn’t have a clue about about how long the editing process was going to take. I was so excited to have ‘finished’ my first novel, I believe I would have laughed out loud if someone told me I’d still be editing the same manuscript, two years on.
Travel Undaunted? Well, the last time I did it was this time last year – (February 2020). One year ago today, I was in Amsterdam, smooching with my holiday love, Ted, in Dam Square.
As the others took in Body Worlds and the Van Gough Museum, I sauntered through the streets of Amsterdam at my own pace, taking in its sights and sounds. Dam Square, home to the Royal Palace, where I fell in love with Ted. We both have the same hair, which I think is rather sweet, but I am philosophical. Holiday romances never last.
This GOW Waxing Lyrical throwback from 2015 about my place in the sun, The Algarve, has really hit home. It now 19 months since I visited the place I love and, as from 2020, had planned to spend more time. Once given the green light, I will be on the first flight.
Keeping my itchy feet happy during these eternal Lockdown Days is an ongoing problem. I’ve tried binge watching twenty years worth of travel videos, with my feet propped up on a stool, so they can relive those heady sun soaked, beach filled days, but they are not happy. In fact, one of them is particularly grumpy this morning, and is refusing to get out of bed.
At the end of last year, an edit of my ‘finished’ novel, Just Say It, highlighted I had a problem with multiple point of views, I largely ignored it, until I received the latest critique, which not only highlighted the multiple POV’s issue, but it also pointed out that I was also guilty of another writer’s crime, authorial intrusion. So I need to back off, and let my characters do the talking!
There is always a great deal going on inside my head at the same time as I bounce ideas off each other. Too many, on occasions. I flit and float from one thought to the next, so perhaps that is one reason why I have allowed something similar to creep into my fiction writing. Unwittingly, I have beenContinue reading “Nail Your Shifting Points of View!”
My mother and I were never close. There has never been an unshakable emotional bond between us. No invisible strand that binds a mother to her child, post umbilical tie. Even as a child, I felt more of an accessory than a daughter. She never tried to cultivate a rapport between us, so I never felt that ache. That overwhelming sense of dread that engulfs you when you think about losing someone you love.