Cupping her hands underneath her breasts, she pushed them up slightly then let them go. Gravity deemed the only way for them to flop was south. She remembered having been inspired by those liberated ladies of the Swinging Sixties who, allegedly, threw all caution to the wind and made a bonfire of their bras. Letting her perky little darlings live free two decades ago might have seemed like a good idea at the time, but that invigorating liberation was having a knock-on effect now.
By the time dawn came around, my self-belief had taken a nose dive and I was considering giving up writing and doing something less stressful, like bungee jumping. But, writing is a leap into the unknown. You need to constantly keep challenging yourself, bumbling along in the inside lane is not going to get you anywhere.
“Do one thing every day that scares you.”
Test your mettle on a daily basis, you will never know whether how good you are until you take that leap of faith.
Just shy of 4 years and 3 title changes… I’m getting there. #iamwriting
I have no regrets, I have written and finished my first novel. It is not War and Peace, it was never written with the intention of it becoming a literary masterpiece. It’s about life, love and finding out who you are. It is a story that evolved over a four year period, but as I begin my next project I am starting with a clearer idea about where and what my characters are going to be doing with their lives.
It is becoming clear that writing a cracking opening chapter is something I have yet to master. You have to engage your reader during the first three pages of your novel. Your opening chapter needs to be kick-ass and a killer first line is essential. My First Line: “Lisa Grant Continue Reading
I’m guilty of having had more than one celebration to mark ‘The End’. When I finished the first complete draft…and it was shite…after finishing the first few edits… yes… it’s all very exciting when you finish editing drafts 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 and even the 10th…but celebrating all these milestones is premature. I’ve had a very doughy middle for some time because my novel was only half cooked.
My Writers Group are convinced I am suffering from some sort of Mother Complex. Maybe I am but one does tend to write about the things they are familiar with.
After Lisa turned thirteen, Elizabeth Galsworthy-Grant turned into a one-woman precursor to Tinder. She became obsessed with finding her daughter a husband, preferably a wealthy one, so she would never have to contemplate that nasty three-letter word job. She could never understand why her efforts were always so unappreciated by her rebellious daughter, with her feminist views and ridiculous mantra…’I don’t need a man to complete me.’