Goodbye...for now

I just wanted to quickly say that I am now leaving this space for now but I am still blogging regularly over at WML. Why are you doing this you may ask? In a nutshell, I just got tired of keeping my creative writing separate from my main blog although this may change in the future. Who knows?

Until then, see you over at WML!

Mo x

Read It Or Not: Zoology

These past few months I have done quite well on the reading front but not so much on the writing and publishing posts front. Soon after I finished How I Live Now, I started Zoology and finished that within a week but forgot to publish my thoughts on it on here. The same goes for Looking For Alaska and Little Women which I also read shortly after I was done with Zoology. So here I am, in July, finally sharing my views on Zoology - my book for the month of May.

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Written by Ben Dolnick, Zoology is the coming of age story of a recent college drop out called Henry Elinsky, and how he tries to make sense of the path he is to take now with the help of his brother. The book was written in such a way that we are let in on the unfiltered thoughts of the character which took me by surprise. Getting to read how he honestly views the world made me think of the saying, "think before you speak",  and made me wonder how conversations people have will change if everyone conveyed their thoughts in their purest form. Although they story did not beguile me, it was however well written and had resounding themes that anyone can relate to- family, self-actualisation, love etc. 

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Read it or not...that is your choice.

Mo x

Short Story: Open Road

Standing here on the open road, my home far behind me and my future way in front of me, I have never felt more at peace than I do now. Here. In the middle of this wide and empty road. Not even the chill from this icy winter's morning can snap me out of this revere I'm in. I open my eyes, adjust the strap of my heavy laden carry-all bag that is digging into my shoulder, grab hold of the handle of my small, bright orange wheelie suitcase and begin my long walk to the local station. Some of the money I have saved up from working tirelessly at that Godforsaken pub with those old leering men that only become more unbearable to be around when they are drunk, the always busy local pharmacy and the ever-so quiet public library burns in the front pocket of my jeans; tempting me to throw caution to the wind and call a taxi to drop me off at the station and enjoy a few brief moments of warmth. But I stave off this idea and remember my goal. It's not like I haven't done this before. 

God those days were unbearable.

I didn't have enough money to pay for both my house bills and bus fares into town to go to work so I always had my early morning "workouts" to keep me in shape. I had to make do with two small  meals a day that could barely be considered actual meals so I didn't have to worry about putting on any weight. I am just lucky that my skin and hair are manageable because it does not take a lot to tame them which meant I did not have to waste the little money I had on the countless beauty products that are out there. Even shopping for clothes took a back seat and the thought was only entertained when deemed necessary. My house-mates had given up on inviting me to nights out eating or dancing away in clubs in the city because to them I was an anti-social miserable girl that cared for no one and certainly had no plans of having fun. But I didn't care what they thought of me... or shall I say I learnt not to care. My savings for the open road was the only thing that kept me going. 

And that day has finally come.

Standing at the platform my train is expected to arrive at, I run through the list of things I will  have to do once I get there as my nerves kick into overdrive, forcing me to believe that I have forgotten something. The doors of the train open up shortly after it arrives at the platform allowing the maniacs that were once in it to force themselves out of the carriage and bump repeatedly into me. I managed not to lose my temper and quickly got on the train to find my seat. Now that I have gotten to the right carriage and located my seat, I look for a suitable luggage rack to stow away my suitcase and then make my way to my aisle seat. I stop dead in my tracks when I see who will be sat next to me for the next leg of both our journeys. It was the impatient grunt of the person stood behind me and in front of me that forced me to sit down in my seat. I made sure not to make any sudden movements that might alarm the sleeping passenger who I'm now sat next to. Breathing so quietly, I fear I may not be taking in the required amount of oxygen I need to get by in life. I try to sneak a look at the person sat next to me in such a way that no one else will be able to tell what I'm doing. This proves to be very hard especially when the sleeping beauty turns in its sleep and deems my shoulder worthy enough to rest its head upon.

Shit!

The train has set off now but it seems we may have left my heart back at the station as I cannot detect a heartbeat. How is it this stranger, although he does not feel like one, is able to have such an effect on me and isn't even lucid? Surely that is not right! I clench my teeth, reign in my hormones and carefully nudge him back to his side of the train. I let out a big sigh of relief when it does not look like I have awoken him. I quickly get out my ticket out my pocket and wait for the conductor to walk by so that it can be checked and stamped. A little boy sat at the table not far from me catches my eye when he tugs at his mother's hair and laughs with pure glee when her curls spring back into place. There is something so honest and almost unreal about the love his mum has for him and he for her that sends a formidable sense of calm straight through me I have no choice but to relax.

'...please don't forget to take your luggage with you'.

The booming sound of the conductors voice over the speakers brutally wakes me up from the best sleep I have had in a long time. I open up my eyes and allow them to adjust to the harsh lights within the train. I then become painfully aware that my head is resting on something that keeps moving up and down slightly. I sit up quickly, which is a bad idea as my neck is not in its best state, to find that I had been using the shoulder of the guy sat next to me as my person pillow. My eyes open wide in horror at the sight of the drool trail I had left behind. To say that I'm mortified is an understatement. The pain in my neck doesn't register immediately as I wipe the trace from mouth and chin and apologise profusely to the gentleman whose head I had nudged off my shoulder many hours ago but let me rest mine on his for God knows how long and is now grinning at me from ear to ear for a reason I do not know.

'Jen, it's ok. Honestly it is fine. It's nothing that a bit of water and soap can't fix'.

I frown in confusion. How does he know my name? He chuckles as I assume he knows that I don't know who he is. He gets up which in turn makes me get up. I look around to find that the train is practically empty. How did I not notice this? I watch him as he reaches up to get his luggage from the overhead storage space, puts on his coat and makes his way off the train.

He turns round and says, 'You coming?'

I must be dreaming... I go get my bright orange suitcase, secretly glad that it still where I'd left it, and followed this familiar stranger who knows my name off the train. He says nothing as we make our way to the main part of Piccadilly station. I try to lose him as the place is crawling with people who are itching to get to their various destinations and those awaiting the arrival of their loved ones because I don't feel all too smart walking with a man I do not know. And despite the almost packed vicinity I have never felt more alone especially now that I managed to give him the slip. But the familiar stranger takes hold of my hand which as surprising and highly anticipated that gesture was, caused me to withdraw my hand quicker than one could blink. I caught a glimpse of the frown that was on his face when I looked up at him which was now replaced with a slight smile. He cocked his head towards the escalators and that's when I saw her.

'JEN!!!'

I ran over to my childhood friend like there was hot coal beneath my feet and where she was was a pool of cool water. She hugged me so hard I feared my ribs would break but I was thankful for it.

'I see you have met my brother. I completely forgot that you guys were catching the same train'.

'Brother?' I said. I turned to see the familiar stranger drop his bag to the floor to hug his little sister.

'It seems Jen does not remember me Beth', he said with a chuckle.

Beth looks at me with a raised eyebrow and I shrug my shoulders in response, totally embarrassed by this but I try not to let it show. She shakes her head and giggles.

'To be fair Mark, she hasn't seen you in over what, 8 years?'

He laughs and nods in agreement. We make our way to Beth's car I cannot believe the situation I have found myself in now. Reunited with the only friend from my former life that I am still in contact with who so happens to be the sister of the guy wearing my saliva on his very nice and expensive coat that is walking beside me with his hand slightly grazing mine with every step we take towards the car causing the butterflies in my tummy to do all kinds of tricks. He offers to drive us back to Beth's which gives us the chance to catch up slightly in the back of the car. Beth fusses over the fact that I am wasting away and I am silently hoping to catch her brother's eye in the rear view mirror. When this does happen I look away so quickly I almost give myself whiplash.

 But I am so glad I did.

The sight of the open road before us makes me smile because I know that at the end of it, I will be able let go and truly embrace life. I grab hold of Beth's hand and whisper, 'Thanks for this B'. She pulled me into another bone-breaking hug and says, 'You are welcome babes. I am just glad that you finally came to your senses and decided that this was the best idea ever imagined'. I smile and say, 'It is in't it?' Mark catches my eye again in the rear view mirror and winks at me which makes me smile even more. He puts on the radio and you won't believe what song blares through the speakers.



If that it isn't a sign, I don't know what is...

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THE END.

Read It Or Not: How I Live Now

This young adult book was such an easy read, it was refreshing. I finished it within a week but have only gotten round to publishing my thoughts on it now because I have not quite mastered the blogging whilst working skill just yet. Now, I won't go as far as calling How I Live Now my 'Book of the Year' but it is a good book filled with mystery, romance, and various portrayals of the brutality, fragility and humanity of human beings. 

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Written by Meg Rosoff, How I Live Now is about a young American girl, deemed to be a terribly misunderstood teenager by her parents, who is shipped off to visit her aunt that lives in England for the summer in the hopes that someone would be able to get through to her. During her stay a terrorist coalition rears its ugly head throwing the world into chaos and we are told how she and those who she interacts with survive the world that they live in now. I am quite intrigued to see how the film turns out as it has been ages since I've read a book before I've watched the film adaptation. I hate knowing what happens before it happens...if you know what I mean. But I guess we all have different ways of viewing things so hopefully the director's vision for this story greatly differs from mine.

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Read it or not...that is your choice.

Mo x

Read It Or Not: How I Live Now

I remember seeing the poster for the movie adaptation of this book a couple years ago and making a note to go see it but I never did. Then, some time in February I made my way over to Leeds to visit my sister & a couple of my best mates (read about my adventure here) and ended up leaving with a couple extra books to read after drooling over my mate Rach's bookcase.  How I Live Now was one of the books she recommended I give a chance so here I am...giving it a chance.

This is my book for April.

Feel free to join me on this adventure or share your verdict on the books I plan to read or recommend the ones you love.

Mo x

Read It Or Not: The Perks of Being a Wallflower

This is a book I would love to have read when I was younger. Not because I don't think I am able to relate to the characters in the book but because I feel like my teenage self would have really, really enjoyed this. But at least I have read it now and I must say I do rather like it. 

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'The Perks of Being a Wallflower' is story that falls under the 'Coming of Age' category. It is a novel that regales you with the tale of a boy called Charlie who is trying to find his place in the world as he is about to start his freshman year at high school. I really admire the way Stephen Chbosky wrote this book. He somehow captured the essence of the voice of a young person in the letters that were written by Charlie making it easier to imagine this world of his. It felt like the letters were addressed to us, the readers, and we were invited into the mind of Charlie to see things as he saw it. And it was only halfway through reading this book that I finally understood its title. When I watched the film I sort of had an idea of what the story was about but I have to say the book had quite a few hidden treasures within it that made me understand the characters a lot more as you would rightly assume it would.

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If you haven't read this book before and are looking for something this is quite an easy read (I finished it in March guys. Whoop!!), has a great plot and is also an ode to other great works of literature then is the book you should get a hold of.

Read it or not...that is your choice.

Mo x 

Read It Or Not: The Perks of Being a Wallflower

After buying The Perks of Being a Wallflower back in August last year I am finally getting round to reading it. And by George I will finish reading it this month as it is hardly a long story (only 231 pages). I remember watching the film adaptation of the book, which was written by Stephen Chbosky, and really revelling in the story of young Charlie and his view on the series of events that unfurled in front of him. When I found out that the film was based on a book I made a vow to read the book and grasp as many extra bits of information about Charlie, his friends and family that did not make it into the movie as I could . And now, almost 2 years later, I am fulfilling that promise I made to myself.

This is my book for March.

Feel free to join me on this adventure or share your verdict on the books I plan to read or recommend the ones you love.

Mo x

Read It Or Not: Eat Pray Love

My goodness how time flies! I have not started off this year well on the reading books front. I cannot believe it is March already. Argh! Right, I have finally finished Eat Pray Love, written by Elizabeth Gilbert, and found it to be somewhat of an eye opener. The film left out soooo much but then again, it would be ridiculous to think they could cover everything in 1hr and 30 mins.

So, onto my review:

This autobiography is one that has been an absolute joy to read despite the fact that it has taken a bit more than a month to finish- I only read it during my lunch break for some reason... The way Elizabeth Gilbert wrote this book made me feel  like I was a friend of her's that was sat on a comfy sofa in her living room with a cup of tea in hand, a few biscuits in the other and had a lovely blanket made in India draped over me whilst I listened to her give me a detailed account of what happened on her year of self-discovery. I loved it! Her tales are funny, inspiring, educational and have a resounding feel of honesty. And reading about her trip to Italy, India and Bali woke up my inner traveller from its deep slumber and has lead to me taking my dream of seeing more than the city I live in a bit more seriously. But the thing I love most about this book is her perseverance. Her perseverance through all she went through and the brave decision she made to step out of the box that was her life to gain a new perspective and take charge of her life again is what filled me with doses of inspiration. That and knowing that just because your life may not be the way you hope it would does not mean you have to wallow in self-pity or the toxic abyss that is your current problem; you can pick yourself up again and reap bountiful rewards.

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So, if you are in the mood for a book that is about a woman's search for a happier version of herself and told in a witty, relatable and heart warming way then this is for you. I really do not think you will regret reading it but as I always say:

Read it or not...that is your choice.

Mo x 

Fears of A Writer

I'm afraid.

Afraid that I will one run out of things to say.. stories to tell.... worlds to share. So many stories have already been told since the world began. Is there anything that can be considered new any more? I know that the odds of someone writing a piece on the same topic that is brewing in your mind in the exact way and manner you would regale the world with your thoughts on said topic is so low it can be considered impossible. But...what if it is possible? That right now, the project that you have sweated and toiled over and called your own is not in fact just yours alone...that someone else shares this project with you also. There must be thousands of writers all scribbling furiously in their notepads and journals right this moment, hoping to hold onto that brilliant thought (that most of us could share) long enough to be the first one to put it into words and onto paper.

Paper.

Paper will never lose its appeal to me. I don't know about you but I love to write my drafts on paper first. Most of them never get transcribed into an electronic format but I don't really mind that because at the end of the day, I feel more connected to the story when it is actually written by me- yes, I am aware that is not sustainable of me :/.  I remember reading somewhere that paper is one of the best listeners in the world and it really is. It is also quite patient- never rushing you to get your words out. Whatever greatness or crappyness it now beholds, it will never reject your thoughts- we do that.  It is only now that I am beginning to be more confident about sharing my work with others to see if they will be as accepting as my pads of paper have been and using it as a means to figure out how I can improve my writing skill. Whether I will pluck up the courage to one day send a draft of my musings to an actual editor is yet to be decided... but I am no longer running away from that possibility which to me is progress. 

But I am still afraid.

Afraid that the ink of my pen is about to run out and there are no more refills. Afraid that I will not get to live the dream I have had since I was a young girl in this lifetime simply because I have nothing else to offer. The fear that what ever I produce could be classed as plagiarism because someone else got their work out first. But even though that fear is slowly trying to prevent me from picking up my pen all together, I actually do not think I would ever stop writing. Even if it is about mundane things like the feel of wet sand beneath my feet on a windy day at the beach, I know I will still write about it. So, I guess all that is left for me to do now is to persevere and keep on writing. Because even if I create a story that is so similar to someone else's, there will be differences that will make it uniquely mine even if it is only how I chose to arrange the words used in my sentences.

And if my pen does indeed run out of ink...

Well, I will just have to go out and get a new one. After all, who doesn't love a shiny new pen? Embracing a new way of writing...of thinking... of expressing one's self. Going beyond what was to experience something new. Getting out of your studio, office or room to enter into the world and allowing it to inspire you and give you exactly what you need for you to carry on. Yes, when that time comes and I feel I have no more stories to tell I will simply force myself to put on my coat and walking shoes, carry my purse and umbrella and head out of my house to go out and get new ideas... change my perspective. I will allow all my senses to absorb the beauty and chaos around me that always differs day to day and interpret it in whatever way comes naturally.

Mo x

Read It Or Not: Quiet

Finally!!

It took me a while but I got there. As it is a book with actual pages of references at the back of it, it is not your usual work of fiction. Matter of fact it is not a fictional book at all. I must admit that this is not the kind of book I am used to reading in my spare time as a bunch more brain cells were required to process it. Even writing this post proved to be quite difficult as not only was there was a lot of material to digest in Quiet, it took me quite a while to finish it and I didn't take note of my thoughts on each chunk I read so I have forgotten where my favourite bits of the book are. No doubt about it though, this is definitely a book that I will be referring back to every now and again.

Quiet was written by a woman called Susan Cain and she is a wonderful writer! I know that the reason I kept turning the pages of her book until I got to the end was not solely because the main topic of her book hit close to home for me but also because her writing style is such that it sounds like she was having a conversation with us, the readers- weaving bits of her life stories in with those of others and some scientific research to back up her facts or pose new ways of thinking. If only textbooks were written is such a manner...
Quiet is about challenging the world to change its current ways of valuing mostly the extroversion-type qualities in people and realise, as well as reward, the beauty and benefits of people who are considered to be introverts... Quiet. 

I know only too well the highly uncomfortable feeling that consumes you when you receive word that you have been invited for an assessment centre which is designed to see how you cope in group activities and just how well you make yourself stand out from the crowd; the sickening feeling you get when you drag yourself to the front of the classroom, that is far too close to be right, to give that dreaded presentation you have been slaving away on all week in front of all your classmates; the butterflies that swarm aimlessly in your tummy when you host a meeting with your company's senior management team to showcase your findings on the project you have been working on; the unease that stiffens your stride as you go to a party where you literally know 2 people who are currently engaged in a discussion with a massive group of people you don't know which means you are left standing alone like a lemon in the corner of the room wondering why you came; the dread that coses up to you went your parents or partner not-so-subtly suggest you get out more by picking up a sport or getting involved in more societies or attending/hosting more dinner parties or a whole bunch of other things that quite frankly just exhaust you.

In my opinion, Quiet explores the intricacies of introversion and extroversion and how people that lean more toward to either side can cope in the environments we live in today. It  gives advice to parents, teachers, managers and folks in relationships on how to better understand their kids, students, employees and partners respectively that are considered introverts. It is filled with stories about public figures who made their mark on the world in their own way even though they saw themselves as introverts showing that introverts can be just as powerful/influential. There are summaries of studies that have been conducted by people considered experts in the field of human personality theories in the book that shed a bit of light on both personality traits. Real-life stories of people that have understood how to wield their introversion-like qualities to their advantage to complete tasks that were once considered out of their comfort zone are strategically placed within the book to support the topic being explored in each chapter. And tales from Susan herself that tell you her personal view on the power of introversion are interwoven amongst the research that she has decided to share with the public .

As a self-proclaimed introvert, Quiet was an big eye-opener for me and made me realise that just because society values certain attributes that I do not possess in spades, it doesn't mean that introverts do not have an important part to play in society. It also taught me a few things on how to handle situations that I do not necessarily jump for joy about being in which was quite enlightening. If you are interested in a bit of psychology, the complexity of one's personality and history, then I think you will like it this book.

Read it or not...that is your choice.

Mo x

Read It Or Not: Eat Pray Love

For those of you who might be up to date with my other space in this big interweb, it will come as no surprise that I have decided to read this book this year. Written by Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat Pray Love is a book that I have meaning to get my hands on since I first saw the film. I have watched that movie more times than I can count and I cannot wait to sink my eyes into the book from which the film was birthed. I have heard so many good things about this, I am glad a copy has now found a home on my desk that is close to buckling under the weight of the books I have on it already. I really need to invest in a bookshelf...or three.

This is my book for January.

Feel free to join me on this adventure or share your verdict on the books I plan to read or recommend the ones you love.

Mo x

Push It To The Limit

The last few months of 2013 was terrible for me with regards to the books I managed to read. I still haven't finished Quiet nor have I begun to read Great Expectations. This year I plan to be different. I will finish at least one book a month. It shouldn't be that hard as I love reading and my social life is not vibrant enough to justify why I could not complete this simple task last year.

So, I will publish my thoughts on Quiet this month as well as my thoughts on my book for January. I want my book for January to be a new addition to my ever-growing library as I think it will be a great start to this year. All will be revealed in another post. Great Expectations will be read this year, don't you worry, along with other great classics.

Also, to any book lover out there, I would greatly appreciate any suggestions you may have on books that I just have to read. I really want to expand the genres of books that I read this year. I think the romantic in me has been thoroughly spoilt all these years hehe.

I wish all the best with achieving the goals you have set for yourself this year!

Mo x

A Not-So-Short Short Story: At The Eleventh Hour With The Giant

Sitting in this dark room on the sofa cross-legged, staring at the wall for the past 2 hours has given me time to really think about my life and what I have done with it this past year. My fingers have now come to the realisation that the mug they are holding onto has now gone cold. As I get up to put on the kettle, my fleecy blanket that was once casually strewn across my body falls to the floor, causing the icy air that saturates my apartment to collide with my once warm skin. I quickly snatch my blanket and throw it over me as a shield against the cold and hurry into the kitchen to refill mug with hot tea so that I and my fingers can stop shaking.

Resting on the kitchen counter, hearing the water slowly come to a boil reminds me of the time I went to York on business and ran into Sam at the local pub. Haha. She had changed so much! I couldn't quite believe my eyes when I turned around to see who it was that had tapped my shoulder. I excused myself from the company of my colleagues whom I am sure were glad to see me go as that was at the early stages of their little sordid affair. It was so awkward feeling that much sexual tension between them in that small space we called our own in that packed pub. I would be lying if I said that it did not make me yearn to have someone permanent in my life that just so happens to find me just as attractive as they found each other. Anyway, Sam invited me round to her's that night, which was a stone's throw away from the pub, and we spent the whole night in her kitchen sitting on her huge central kitchen counter with mugs full of hot chocolate with more than a hint of Bailey's reminiscing about our stint in boarding school and catching up on what we have been up to since.

I make myself my fresh cup of tea and slink back to my spot on the sofa, my blanket in tow. I laugh at the crazy things we got up to at that all girls school. The boys who were snuck in. The girls who were snuck out. The teacher's chair that was "kindly" given a fresh lick of paint just before he arrived so that when he sat down his trousers reflected the generosity of the painter. Those were the days! When it was my turn to answer the big question- 'So, what have you been up to missy? The last time I saw you was during our 2nd year of uni'- I fumbled and mumbled a few incoherent strings of phrases as my brain desperately tried to piece together what I had done since we left that was interesting enough to rival her stories. Seeing her face fall in what I took to be pity made my all too familiar tear glands spring into action and give their Oscar-worthy performance. 

It dawned on me that in the 6 years since I last saw her I have done nothing but work. When Sam was meeting the love of her life I was planning on how to throttle my partner because he was not pulling his weight and I could not afford to fail that year's project. When Sam was studying abroad in Germany I was crying over the fact that my boyfriend at the time chose Australia over me. I was a selfsih cow. Sue me. When Sam was volunteering in Kenya one summer I was struggling to figure out which company I wanted to work for as I had offers coming out of my ears which was both a blessing and a curse. When Sam was truly living life I was basically wasting mine behind a desk for 4 years punching numbers and giving presentations and falling into a pathetic cycle that made me feel so alone.

That fateful night was the night my life changed. Sam and I created my first ever bucket list. And with the help of her fit fella, the ridiculous number of holidays I had accrued at work and my rather large savings account they handed me my itinerary for the next 6 months. I was to embark on my very own Euro trip by myself. To which I said, 'Hell no!' and Sam, being the pretty well known travel journalist and travel junkie  that she is decided to accompany me for the 1st few trips to ease me into it. I finally came round and we did the cheesy clinking of our mugs and passed out in Sam's living room from all the excitement. 

That was the night my adventure began.

I down the last dregs of my tea and listen to the howls of the wind outside as it whips round the B&B I am in with great gusto causing the windows to rattle and the wind chimes outside to play a most violent tune. I make a mental note to thank my mother again for getting me the tartan microfleece pajamas I have on as they are amazingly great at aiding to keep my body temperature at a decent level. Today is the day I turn 27 and it also happens to be the last day of my 6 month adventure. Looking back at all I have achieved in this year alone threatens to set my Oscar nominated tear glands off for a grand finale. I can't quite believe I managed to juggle both work and a colourful social life. 

For the past 8 trips on, I have explored the various cities myself and I am super proud of that. Sam and I started off in France and work our way round Europe. It was amazing! Expensive... but amazing. I was then given the big task of finishing off my adventure by getting to know the UK. I can't say I am a big fan of the south as I'm a Northern girl through and through but I can see why people love it. I started my UK trip there and worked my way back up north. I am now currently in Scotland. Have been for 4 days now but it was only yesterday when I arrived in Edinburgh. It has been years since I have been here it is almost criminal. Scotland is such a lovely place despite the unbearably cold weather. 

I close my eyes and convince myself that I will look like an idiot if I go to The Peartree dressed in my pajamas with my hair tucked away in a hairnet. I bravely throw my blanket off me and rush into the bathroom to get ready. I hear a knock on my door not 10 mins later which startles me as I am not expecting anything to be brought to my room.

'Just hang on a second!' I yell. 'Won't be a minute!'

I yank on my unnaturally tight Dorothy Perkins jeans over my hideously fat arse and pull my Zara jumper over my head, shoving my arms through the wonderfully soft sleeves. Ruffling my hair a bit and swiping on a lit of lipgloss over my lips I open the door to find a giant in front of me. I let a rather indescribable noise out from my mouth as I watch it take steps towards me. I instinctively back away into my room as I try to process what is happening as quickly as I can.

'Sarah, ok I know what you must be thinking. Would you quit walking away from me? You'll head out the window if you back away any further', it says in a deep familiar voice. 

A voice that I was once so anxious to hear over the phone every night throughout my first two years at uni. A voice that quickly became the little voice in my head that steers me away from wrong and urges me to trust my gut. A voice that belonged to a man who won my heart with the wink of an eye, a flash of the sexiest grin I've ever seen and a night in eating homemade lasagna as we watched Lord of The Rings. A voice that was replaced by an unbearable silence and an ache in my heart since the day it joined its owner to fly half way across the world.

It is funny how one day you could be at in a pub in York going through the motions, catching the weighted looks your present company are throwing at each other and not really realising how much time you have wasted. And then boom! You are in a cute B&B up in Edinburgh about to head to a very popular pub to meet up with your mate Sam and her now  fiancé when suddenly, at quite literally the eleventh hour the man who once clawed his way into your personal fortress barges his way back into your life, with the help of your so-called best mate and her fiancé, and still has the audacity to take your breath away.

After a rather loud and long exchange of words between us which most consisted of me biting his head off for assuming that I would still be in love with him, working with Sam to get me to end my adventure here... in the B&B his parents OWN and for not believing that we could have made it work- Oh yeah! He dumped me because he didn't believe in long distance relationships. The twat!- he grabs my hand and drags me to his car. He drives a very angry me to The Peartree to meet up with my now ex-best friend and her soon-to-be-dead  fiancé to celebrate New Years together. Did I mention that The Giant is Sam's soon-to-be brother-in-law? Just one big happy family this is. Urgh!! 

Anyways, Sam hands me a pint of larger with an apologetic smile that I take begrudgingly and I look around at everyone enjoying themselves as the barman has signaled that it is the last minute of 2013. I take a sneaky look at The Giant that turned out to not be so sneaky as he was already watching me.

'I'm sorry', he mouths as he hands me a note.

30 seconds left.

I study the battered piece of paper. I can't believe he kept it. The bastard! Just when I convinced myself  that this was a justified situation to rub my nose to spite my face he goes and does this?! I look into his eyes and watch as his body quickly shifts and appears barely an inch away from me.

Ten. Nine. Eight.

Do I leave him in 2013?

Seven. Six. Five.

Or...

Three. Two. One.

I close my eyes and trust the little voice in my head. I don't hear the supposedly loud cheer or the see the fireworks or feel the beer that was mistakenly pour over my tarted Ugg boots. All I feel right now- with his big arms around me and his lips stuck to mine and my good old tear glands warming up as Sam and her fit fella scream with delight- is home. 

Because home is where the heart is right?

*  *  *  *  *  Happy New Year *  *  *  *  * 

Read It Or Not: Great Expectation

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Reading a book this month that is considered to be one of the classics seemed only right.  For my birthday, my siblings gave me a copy of Charles Dickens':

 Great Expectation.

I had been moaning about how I do not read that many books written by male authors and now I will have the chance to read one by a well renowned male author. I know some of you may be shocked by the fact that I have not yet read this book at least once before but it is ok because I am reading it now. And I can't wait to stick my nose in it and get lost in the world Charles created.

This is my book for December.

Feel free to join me on this adventure or share  your verdict on the books I plan to read or recommend the ones you love.

Yours truly,

Mo x

NaNoWriMo: Results

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Well, as to be expected I did not stick to writing everyday nor did I finish my "book" on the 6th of December. I actually feel quite sad about it because I was really excited at the prospect of finally finishing a book. It just got to a point where I ran out of steam and my characters took a break from me therefore making it impossible for me to scribbled down what they were getting up to in my head. However, during those breaks I did manage to produce two short stories that I am quite proud of.

They were quite unlike anything I had written before. It felt like my writing had... grown up a bit. I dunno. You tell me what you thought of them (here & here). I have many more ideas for short stories quite like the ones I have recently posted but I want to finish the original story I started. I am just a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to writing novels. I have this grand idea of what my 1^st book should be and I don't want to be totally crappy. Only sliiiiightly crappy hehe.


So here is what I plan to do:

1. Transcribe all my work onto my laptop- I did manage to write 46 A4 pages worth of a book...  
2. Edit my work- whittle those 46 pages down to pages containing only quality work and zero crap!
3. Finish the story- if my imagination runs too wild, as it always does, I will close my eyes and eventually write 'The End' by the end of the month.

I aim to print it out and have it bound. Once I do, I shall take a picture of it, document it here and smile until my face starts hurting because it will mean that I finally did it. I am not as brave as other people I know who really put themselves and their work out there. I cling onto my words and share them with but a few. Even though not that many people read this blog I still feel like I have taken a big step and "published" my work for others to see and that is good enough for me. Maybe one day I will publish a book properly and have it on a shelf in a book store oozing a hippy vibe. I just hope that the hands that book falls into will never let it go because it was able to touch their life and stretch their imagination just like my favourite books do to me every time I read them.

Yours truly,

Mo x

Short Story: Days In The Park

I worry about you.

I am thankful everyday for you but I worry about you.

You spend all your days and nights worrying about me and the kids, you hardly have the time to take proper care of yourself. I go to bed every night praying that tonight will be the night you sleep well but, that night has not yet come. I feel you wake up every 3 hours or so, tossing and turning and sighing and groaning as silently as you can. I pretend to roll over in my sleep and reach out for you, holding you as long as my tired arms will allow it. I feel your heart rate steadily drop and the tension in your tall, broad and strong body leave you as you find your way back to me. To here. Our bed. Our home. Our safe place.

I made sure today that you woke up to the smell of freshly baked bread and grilled sausages and an already fed set of 5 year old twin boys and a lovely, yet troublesome, 2 year old girl. I hear you slowly make your way downstairs, into the kitchen, and the sight of that smile, the one that momentarily stopped my heart all those many moons ago when I first laid eyes on you, takes my breath away even now. You kiss me good morning, placing an arm around my not so svelte body and whisper how beautiful I am. I blush and reach up to hold your face in my hands. Though the frown lines are almost permanently etched into your face I do sense a little bit of life and spark in those lovely brown eyes of yours. The kids notice your presence and run as fast as they can from the living room to come and greet you.

'Can we go to the park now, dad? You promised to take us to the park today'.

'Yes, dad. I too remember this promise'.

'Par daddy! Par!'

You smile and pick little Ruth up and tell them all to get ready to go out. I attempt to get the boys showered and dressed but you tell me not to worry, that you will handle it. And that you've run me a bath so I should go enjoy that. Tears creep into my eyes, daring to pour out but I manage to keep my emotions in check and head upstairs as quickly as I can.

Once we are all fed and showered and dressed, we make our merry way to the park. The boys, each holding their favourite toy, James a frisbee and John a football, are way ahead of us; their energy doubling the closer we get to the park. You hold my and Ruth's hand as we trail gleefully behind.

I make a beeline for the nearest bench as you and the kids break free and run amok, playing with the leaves and chasing each other as you play tag. I smile as I watch you make castles out of the green-brown leaves with Ruth and see how relaxed you seem. I catch your eye and you wink at me.

My heart flutters.

I rest my hand on my ever-growning tummy and whisper to our most anticipated Christmas gift, 'I can't wait for you to join our little gang of mischief'. I can't help but feel incredibly blessed. I close my eyes and silently thank God for answering all my prayers and giving me much more than I deserve.

I want everyday to be like our days in the park. You laughing, the kids spending quality time with you and the man I fell in love with many suns ago winning the battle against his more worrisome self. I know you are anxious and uncertain of your ability to provide for our growing family, especially now with me being a stay-at-home-mum, but I really hope that you get to have more days like today so that you can enjoy all that we have accomplished so far.

You make your way over to me, the kids hot on your heels. You place a hand on our bump and kiss me long and hard, much to the kids disgust. We laugh and I tell you I love you. You smile that smile that melted my heart many days and arguments and date nights and PTA meetings and make-up sex ago and tell me you love me too. You pull me towards you and wrap an arm around me as we sit on the bench and watch the kids  go off and play in the leaves some more. I feel how relaxed your body is and how steady your breathing is and I close my eyes, enjoying this moment.

Yes, I really wish everyday to be like our days in park as we so fortunate to be having them at all.

***                 ***

Happy Thanksgiving & Happy Hanukkah!

Short Story: In The Mornings

I wake up, like every morning, and roll over to your side of the bed to drink in the lingering warmth that your body creates when you lie next to me. I feel the sunlight lightly kissing my skin because you, like every morning, open the curtains and windows to taste the new day when you get up. I hear you bustling about as you get ready for work; the hissing of the iron, the creaking of the floorboards, the sound of running water are all instruments that are used in the song that I listen to every morning.

I groan at the sound of the door closing behind you as you make your hurried way to the kitchen to fix yourself something to eat. At least I hope you are eating and not living on caffeine alone. I let the familiar guilt crawl its way into my stress-stricken body and drown me with the fact that I am a terrible person for not taking proper care of you and ensuring that you are well fed. What would your mother think? She already does not approve of me. Instead of getting up to check you are in fact eating solid food I lie here, in bed, wrapping myself with the huge blanket we are using as a duvet this summer to stop the cold from gnawing at my fingers and toes.

I hear the door slam again quickly followed by the sweet smell of freshly made coffee. You set my coffee filled Scooby Doo mug down on the bedside table along with a buttered bagel, lie down next to me and pull me into your ever so warm embrace. Just like you do every morning. I feel hot tears trickle down my face as, like every morning, you remind me of how much you love me. The way you stroke my hair sends ripple of calm throughout my body that eventually halts the tears. I fell your soft lips plant themselves on my forehead releasing bursts of hot spots all over my body. I am very aware that we do not have much time left before you have to leave so I free my mind from all other thoughts and savour these last few moments we have together before we join the daily grind of the working life.

On time, as always, we hear the alarm go off. You pry yourself out of my embrace and head out the door. As the front door closes and I hear you turn the key I sit up and reach for the cup of coffee you made me. After I take the first sip of liquid luck I can feel my insides latching onto every drop that makes it way into my tummy. I finish it and get out of bed to perform all my morning rituals- make the bed, do the washing up, set the table for dinner and finally hop into the shower.

I miss you already.

It is like this every morning. I am sure that I cannot be the only one that believes that mornings have a funny way of affecting the rest of your day more powerfully that other times of the day. You always starts mine off right. 

Once I have patted myself dry, lathered my skin with body lotion and put on my clothes, I sit on your side of the bed, munching on my bagel. Right there and then I make up my mind up my mind to try harder to make your mornings as special as you make mine. Although I am not even remotely a morning person, it is in the mornings that I truly value the best thing that has ever happened to me.

I will try not to bring work home tonight. And I think I will make Thai green curry for dinner, as you really like that. And I will also try to go to bed early. That way I can be well rested when I wake up earlier tomorrow to start your day with a kiss, a cup of coffee and breakfast in bed.

Just like you do for me every morning.

Read It Or Not: Quiet

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I have been taking an unusually long time to read the book that is currently my lunchtime companion- Quiet by Susan Cain. Granted it is not the normal kind of book that I reach for but, I became most intrigued when Shirley (blog: meek-n-mild) did a post on it a few months ago. The cover of the book was all white and it posed a question that I had been asking myself repeatedly all year-

Can an introvert thrive in a world that cannot stop talking?

I am sure I am not the only one who dreads assessment centres stage in the interview process or giving presentations to a number of people especially when it nears the double or triple digits. 

This is my book for November.

Feel free to join me on this adventure or share  your verdict on the books I plan to read or recommend the ones you love.

Yours truly,

Mo x

Read It Or Not: Billy and Me

I finished this book about a month ago but have only been able to document my thoughts now because of internet issues (recently moved into my own flat) and because I finally knew how to express my thoughts on Billy And Me. 

Now, onto the book...

As first published books go I think Giovanna Fletcher should be extremely proud of 'Billy and Me'. It is a captivating and beautifully written romantic tale that plucked at my heartstrings from the first few pages. I could not put it down. This is another book that caused me to almost miss my stop on the way to work several times. The way she painted the picture of the events that unfolded page after page was so vivid, it felt like I was there. Having lived in Kent, where most of the story was set in, and taken a few trips to London also helped bring the story to life for me; it felt a bit more real.

In the hopes of not giving too much away I will say no more than what the blurb of the book has said.

Sophie May is the main character in this novel and she is the one I most identified with. Her disposition is much like my own so I truly connected with her character and saw most things from her point of view quite easily. The story revolves around her encounter with a certain man, Billy Buskin, in a quaint little village in Kent  and how it catalysed a chain reaction that was sure to change the future of her somewhat ordinary and quiet life. Can one who revels in a quiet life built around the support of their family and close friends thrive in bustling throws of the world of 'Lights! Camera! Action!"? Read the book and you will find out what lies in store for Sophie May and good ol' Billy.

Of course like many other stories there are other worthy characters who deserve a mention but I want you to meet them organically i.e. by reading the book. I have given you a gently nudge in the right direction (I hope! lol) which should allow you to be let in on the world of Sophie May and all the secrets that have kept her from spreading her wings. I really love the way Giovanna writes and only hope to be able to convey my thoughts as eloquently as she does.

Read it or not, that is your choice. But, I really hope you do....

Yours truly,

Mo x

NaNoWriMo

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NaNoWriMo aka National Novel Writing Month.

Oh yeah baby! That is what I am doing this month. Granted I did not prepare for it last month nor did I actually sign up on their website nor am I following any of their rules. So technically, I am not actually taking part in NaNoWriMo . I just decided on a whim (well, the 6^th of November to be exact) that I was going to write at least a page a day on a short story I started whilst at work the other day. But I am taking it one step further. I am going “old school” and will be writing my novel by hand.

I have the tendency to waffle and I feel that if I write the novel using my pen, I will have a better control of conveying my thoughts in a more concise manner. Plus, I do not get to rely on auto-correct so I am learning to spell again haha.

For the first time, I have made a brief outline of the story and will try to stick to it. I normally just see where my imagination takes me and stop when I either feel tired or the end surprises even me. Eeek! It is going to be soo hard to stick to the outline but I will try.

I must take this opportunity to thank Linda from OpenEllbey for introducing me to NaNoWriMo and Meg from MegFee for sharing the song that birthed this story I am writing which will hopefully become my first ever finished and “published” novel.

I am excited for the 6^th of December to roll on by so that I can see how the story evolved. I will be getting someone (my sister and a couple friends) to edit my work before I print it off. But I have to say, it is the keeping of the handwritten version of the story that I am most excited about. Who knows, by next year when I do this again I would have snagged myself a typewriter and use that to write my next novel. That would be too cool!

If any of you have been a part of NaNoWriMo before or are taking part in it this year good luck with your new project! I hope the finished work brings you joy. And to those of you that might be thinking of doing it let me know. We could practise this writing project together and be better prepared for next year’s NaNoWriMo and have a chance of winning :) 

Yours truly,

Mo x