Skip to main content

Slightly Late To The Party

Hi everyone.

Well, I'm not sure where September and October went to but somehow it's now November and over two months since my last post. The good news is that after a lot of faffing about and spending way too much time "thinking" instead of "doing" (although you can probably blame the debilitating effects of the peri-menopause for that), I have decided that I'm definitely putting writing back at the forefront of my portfolio career. That means I'm upping my game in terms of blogging, sending stuff out and generally getting my writing act together.

If I hadn't been rather comatose throughout most of October, I would definitely have blogged about National Poetry Day which was on October 6th. Actually, it was watching an inspiring programme about poetry on the BBC that aired around this time which helped to kickstart my writing again, as well as another programme on the slightly less well-known channel Notts TV which featured the very funny and talented poet, writer and producer Henry Normal.

Poetry has been with me throughout my entire life as both a reader and a writer. It's the only aspect of writing that I've ever felt comes relatively easily to me (the rest feels like walking up a hill backwards while carrying an extremely heavy power tool and that's on a good day) and I can't imagine life without it.

Poetry is also great for those occasions when there is really no way of expressing how you feel about something except in the form of a poem. So on a day when an awful lot of people around the world are probably feeling the same way as I am about the result of last night's presidential elections in America, here is my rather belated poem to celebrate National Poetry Day.

Several words can rhyme with Trump,
It's quite surprising to see.
I'll leave you to work out which ones they are,
My favourite begins with 'C'.

Back soon, hopefully. Keep the faith!



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Shortlisted in the Writer's Toolkit Flash Fiction Competition

Hi everyone. A good writing week this week, despite the distractions of the cricket and the tennis, possibly because my portfolio career has been suspended, pending further enquiries (don't tell my patrons!) and I've been at my desk every night. Long may it continue! I said in my last post that I was recently shortlisted (top ten) in the Writer's Toolkit flash fiction competition. The competition brief was to write a short story of 150 words or less on the theme of 'Secrets'. My story actually came out at exactly 150 words because at the last minute, after I'd sealed the envelope, I suddenly panicked and decided that the wording of the rules could mean that the story had to be exactly 150 words. Mine was 149 if I remember correctly and it was surprisingly difficult to add that extra word! Apparently the competition attracted 182 entries (which I must admit was quite a surprise) and entries came from several European countries as well as the UK. I was particu

The Mail on Sunday Feature

Hi everyone. Well, it's not every day that The Mail on Sunday runs a double-page spread about the book you are writing. This is what happened to me last Sunday, and I'm still recovering from the shock. It was about three weeks ago that I received an email, completely out of the blue, from the paper's chief reporter. Apparently, he had been researching the issue of copyright on unpublished letters for something he was working on and had come across a blog post that I had  written about this very subject. https://melissalawrencewriter.blogspot.co.uk/2017/06/publish-and-be-damned.html The post in question was about my own copyright issues concerning the large collection of letters and postcards I have inherited from my grandmother. These are not just any old letters and postcards. They were written to my grandmother by her close friend, Ethel North, who was lady's maid and companion to Lady Winifred Burghclere, elder sister of the 5th Earl of Carnarvon, between

No Show

Sorry that there is no new post this week. I am a "no show" due to the wheels coming off my trolley on Tuesday when I tried some glandular therapy treatment for my ongoing hypoadrenalism and ended up passed out on the hall floor. At the moment, my brain feels like it is full of cotton-wool and writing anything deep and meaningful (or even anything shallow and nonsensical) seems quite difficult. Hopefully normal service will be resumed as soon as possible so please do not adjust your settings.