Lightning Bolts and Dragons

Well, it’s time to come clean. I have been holding off telling my family that I am writing until I had something that I could be proud of. The last couple of days have finally delivered that something in a dragon-shaped lightning bolt.

I have a finished book! No, really. Ok, maybe I should have warned you to sit down first…Recovered? I’ll carry on then.

The thing is, the book is not a major, groundbreaking work that I’ve been meticulously researching for months, nor an outstanding literary feat. It’s not even the kind of thing I envisaged myself writing a year ago when I decided to start taking this writing malarkey seriously. I always thought the first book I wrote would be a novel, almost certainly a Regency romance, which is what I’ve been brought up on. It turns out, my very first book is a children’s picture book featuring dragons. And it may never be accepted by a publisher, I don’t know. The thing is, I have an achievement – I have written a story and I am very proud of that fact alone. It’s a real story, with characters and a beginning, middle and end. There are a couple of minor tweaks I need to do but on the whole I am very happy.

And the biggest lesson for me in this is to take hold of lightning bolts that appear to strike from nowhere, however unlikely.

I didn’t set out to write a children’s book. It was probably the furthest thing from my mind to be honest. But this character has been sitting, twiddling his thumbs, in my head for a few months. Then he acquired a setting, but still no story, and busied himself until I could decide what to do with him. Then bam, in a lightning bolt out of nowhere, he starts talking to me. I guess he got fed up of waiting. And now I have 24 pages of picture book, waiting for me to finish editing and fiddling and send them away with everything crossed for luck.

It took some nerves to confess to my family that I was writing – it feels to me like a huge step, I don’t know why. Maybe because up until now I haven’t had anything I’ve been really proud of. But their reaction when they read it was the moment I have been waiting for for ages, maybe even years.

Oh, and by the way, I was wrong. Taking hold of lightning bolts is the second biggest lesson for me in this. The first is to remember how much fun it was. It was hard, getting the language the way I wanted it, asking my friends to test drive it on their children and waiting to hear their reaction. It was probably the hardest 500 words I’ve ever written. Trying to make sure that every word delivers the picture I see in my head, and that every line is entertaining. I think I’ve managed it, although I will probably always have some doubts. But, I can’t say it enough, it was fun. Entering the world of my characters, playing around with words to find ones that are musical and rhythmical, thinking of what my son would like to hear and how I could deliver it – that was magical, and has opened up whole, hereto-unconsidered world of possibilities for me. I’ve already got another little character whispering that she wants a turn at being a story.

I shall be updating regularly with progress, and when I’m a multi-millionaire just remember – you saw it here first.

Book Review: Nighty Night

I’ve decided to start a new series of blog posts. On a regular basis I will review a book that my two and a half year old son has recently read. But don’t just take my word for it, check out The Daniel Pages for his point of view.
The first one we’ve chosen is Nighty Night by Colin McNaughton (click here to see on Amazon).

This has become part of Daniel’s nightly routine and he calls for it without fail. Technical stuff first: It has twelve double pages with bright pastel colours, big bold text (that becomes bigger or smaller to reflect tone of voice!) and appealing cartoons. The story builds up to a wonderful rant by Littlesaurus about why he doesn’t want to sleep then closes with a lovely, snuggly ending. I actually think one of the reasons we all love this book so much is because Littlesaurus reminds us so much of Daniel, and I suspect any parent will recognise their lively toddler in our hero.

The parents, Mummysaurus and Daddysaurus, are also brilliantly drawn – again, I recognise both myself and my husband in their reactions to bedtime. I love when Mummysaurus tells Daddysaurus that he’s supposed to be calming Littlesaurus down and he slinks away guiltily.

The only negative thing I can think of is if you are trying to encourage your child to stay in their bed all night, this might not help, as Littlesaurus ends up snuggling in between Mummy and Daddysaurus. But it’s such a sweet ending I love it anyway!

Reading the story is a lot of fun for both us and Daniel. The sentences are short and snappy, and Daniel loves to echo them back, sometimes finishing them before we do! I can see this being a favourite for years, and will be a good choice when he starts reading on his own as the text is so clear and the words are a good mix between challenging and manageable.

There is another book advertised on the back cover, featuring the same characters, dealing with potty training, and as soon as I finish this post I will be popping over to Amazon to buy it. If Potty Poo-poo Wee-wee is as much fun as Nighty Night I can’t wait to get started.

Thanks for reading our first book review. I’d love anyone to comment if they have read this book or can recommend similar, or if there’s anything I’ve missed off the review. If you have a book you read to your children and fancy putting up a review use the Contact Me page to send an email letting me know, it would be great to hear from you.

Don’t forget to pop over to The Daniel Pages to get Daniel’s verdict on Nighty Night!

The Joy of Titles

I would love to be able to offer a really useful, insightful post here on how to craft a fantastic title for a piece of writing. Any piece, be it poem, story, novel, article, blog post, etc.

There are two reasons why I’m not. Firstly, there are lots of helpful how-to books, articles and blog posts out there which offer advice on all aspects of writing, including titles. I don’t want to be another one in the crowd. That’s my ‘save-face’ story anyway. The other, and slightly more pertinent reason, is that I am absolutely terrible at it.

So this is more a tale of woe and a call for people to comment with their own title failures so I don’t feel quite as utterly useless.

I’ve read a good bit of the helpful advice mentioned above, and to be honest it hasn’t really helped so far. I’m hoping that this is because I am taking on other lessons and techniques and my brain is resisting being overloaded. In which case the trick to crafting titles will click in in its own good time. The alternative is that there is a special knack to titles which you’ve either got or not. In which case, I’m doomed.

My main problem is short story titles. I have started entering a monthly short story competition, which always gives a set theme. This is great, it provides structure and a springboard, especially good for beginners like me. The problem is, being on a theme, there feels more pressure to provide a stand-out title. After all, they will be receiving hundreds of entries, all on the same topic, and they have to start a cull somewhere. Assuming I manage to get through the “Oh-dear-me-this-person-has-sent-it-in-on-pink-paper-with-a-flower-border” stage, and the this “this-person-can’t-even-spell-their-own-name” stage, I then have to make it through the “oh-dear-Lord-couldn’t-they-think-of-a-better-title-than-that-have-they-no-imagination” stage. And I have visions of my masterpieces, which would otherwise unfailingly win first prize, falling through the filter right there.

I have tried using a phrase from the story, or twisting a phrase from the story. This seems to give me the result I’m happiest with, but it’s not the witty/ironic/highly intelligent/achingly beautiful thing I’m looking for.

So my next mission, in my journey to become Millionaire Writer, is to crack titles. I will leave no stone unturned. I will experiment, play with words, seek divine guidance, etc, until I am the Mistress of Titles and you are all begging me for help and inspiration.

In the meantime though, I have a story with a not-bad title to print and post.

Baby Girl Brown Sweepstake

We’re coming towards the end, and much more quickly than I had been expecting to be honest. I remember the last few weeks with my son dragging on and on and on and…you get the picture. But in a couple of days I will be 33 weeks, and the weeks are ticking over faster than you can say Braxton Hicks.

We’re doing well. Hospital bags are packed, pram and car seat are scrubbed and gleaming, nappies are washed and f0lded. We have a couple of jobs to do (buying little things like a mattress so the poor thing has somewhere to sleep for instance. That should have read “we’re doing well…for us”) but if, say, the baby came this week we’d be fine.

So I thought I might have a little fun.

Having been inspired lately by a couple of Twittering friends who have run competitions on their blogs (@cathryanhoward and @alisonwells – follow them, do, they’re lovely) I fancy doing a little sweepstake. A little prize for the person who guesses the right weight of the baby and the name we choose (only first name, not middle, that would be cruel). Bonus prize for anyone who correctly predicts that the little monkey comes out a boy after all, the due date being April Fool’s Day and all. OK, I take that one back because now some smarty pants will hedge their bets and just say ‘boy’ anyway. A real bonus prize for anyone who says (in advance!) the actual date of birth.

For a little bit of help, I will update this post with any info I get from medical professionals with estimated weights etc – if that is helpful, I don’t know. They were way off with my son. Who, by the way, was 9lb 4oz. I know people often say the second one is bigger – please, unless you want to see a grown woman faint, keep guesses under this weight! I will also update in a couple of weeks a picture of myself (when I can bring myself to do it) so you can see The Bump.

I can give no help on names as we are still making a shortlist, so have fun with that one.

I have no idea as yet what the prize will be, you’ll have to be kept in suspense on that one. My husband suggested an iPad – I think he hopes no-one will get it right. It won’t be an iPad. A notepad, possibly.

Watch this space folks.

UPDATE, 1 MARCH 2010: Nothing scientific, not back for checkup until next week. But for your information, Baby Girl Brown has suddenly seemed to double in size. With a month to go (exactly, eek!) I no longer feel like I’m carrying a baby but a huge, wriggling lump of concrete. So anyone guessing on the big side would seem, at the minute, to be closer to the truth than I would like! I’ll try to be brave and post a photo soon.

UPDATE, 3 MARCH 2010: Ha, knickers to the pessimists who think this will be a big baby! She may feel like a lump of lead, but according to midwife who I saw today, I have a very reasonably-sized bump for how long I have left to go. By which, I mean small. Not too small, just not huge. So there.

UPDATE, 9 MARCH 2010: Ok, bit of stuff happening but also not. I shall explain, but it involves very slightly messy details, so if you’re squeamish or uninterested look away now. Sunday night: waters leaking. Not broken, I hasten to add, in the sense of floods everywhere, husband needing to put waders on to rescue me from deluge, just leaking, but very definitely so. Upon examination in hospital mucus plug has moved. (That was the messiest detail, it’s safe to look again now.) Last night (Monday) I went in with really bad pains (seriously, on a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being ‘agonising’, I was at least an 8) which were regular contractions that…DIED away. Meh. We stayed in hospital until 2 am as they kept building up but nothing was happening. The only thing that can be said is that upon examination I was found to be 2cm dilated. And the same 4 hours later. And I could be staying the same for the next 4 weeks. So things were happening, but also not. Does that help with the sweepstake?!

Oh, and I’ve decided. Prize for closest to date, weight and name will get £10 (or €10) Amazon.co.uk voucher. Sorry it’s not more artistic and inspired but at least it’s practical!

UPDATE, 5 APRIL 2010: So, yes, we’re currently 4 days overdue, and it turns out that this isn’t so much fun. It also means that as things currently stand, only Rachel can win on date unless people have another guess, which I’m not sure isn’t cheating a little…but also remember the original criteria were date, name and weight. I will accept name and weight. Anyway, there are two bits of news. Firstly, I am going for a membrane sweep tomorrow (6 April), and according to my lovely consultant this often gets things going once you’re past your due date. Let’s hope. Also tomorrow they will book me in for induction just in case, probably for the coming weekend. With this in mind, we have mentally adjusted our countdown so that we are now not expecting anything to happen before 12 April. This is to save our sanity and to field calls from well-meaning relatives and friends. Not sure how effective it’s been so far in that respect,  but it has helped me a great deal as I was close to breaking point. You see, none of this was in the plan. She was supposed to arrive before her due date. I did not count on spending Easter weekend still pregnant, or even considering induction again. So, gentle reader, please keep everything crossed that she stirs herself soon…

UPDATE 01 MAY 2010: Emily Grace was born on 9 April weighing 9lb 5 oz, at 8 days overdue. And of course she is absolutely beautiful! Apologies it’s taken so long to update the post with sweepstake results, but it’s been a little overwhelming!

Anyway, all things considered, we’ve come to a decision on the sweepstake winner. You were all shockingly out with your date predictions, so no-one wins on date. However, there was one person who not only got the name right but was scarily close to the birth weight. So, with a guess of Emily (correct) and 9lb 6oz (only 1oz out), the winner is…..(cue drum roll, and agonisngly long pause in the style of a TV talent show) Jane Travers! Congratulations, your Amazon voucher will be winging its way to you soon.

Thanks everyone for guessing!

My Way

And now, the end is near, and so I face the final curtain…

With D-Day drawing closer (by which I mean Delivery-of-baby Day, not WW2 Normandy Landings. By the by, did you know that apparently the D in D-Day doesn’t stand for anything? If anyone can correct me on this I’d be very grateful).

With D-Day drawing closer, as I said, the time seems right for a little reflection. It is, after all, a momentous occasion in a woman’s life when she gives birth. A rite of passage, a dawning of a new era, etc etc. Never again will I be Becca, mum of one, from now on I will be Becca, Supermum of two. And so on and so forth.

And yes, all of those things are true. But I’m not going to talk about that stuff today. Save it for another post – it can be a way of passing the time when the baby I am hoping will arrive early is actually three weeks late. Today I would like to, well, have a bit of a rant.

One of the most glibly untrue things you may hear when you find out you are pregnant is that you can choose where you give birth. It is your choice, they will tell you. The NHS website that gives general pregnancy information (among other things) is even called Choices. Look it up – Your Health, Your Choices, runs the tagline.

There are many long and boring examples I could give from this pregnancy as to why this is, um, misleading. I won’t go into them – if you’re desperate to hear my tales of woe email me. The most laughable of my gripes with the wonder that is the NHS is to do with basic information sharing. I have had to have regular blood tests because my thyroid levels have been totally messed up. Easy, they say. Go to your GP, they will do the test and send the specimen to the hospital. Except my hospital is outside of the Health Authority – again, there is a long and boring reason for this, but it boils down to my local hospital is a nightmare and the one I’ve chosen is less so. It’s not far away, but it does fall out of the area. So my GP practice won’t send the blood specimen to my hospital after all. They send them to a completely different one. And get this? They can’t share the results. The local hospital can’t put the results onto some kind of computer record, my chosen hospital can’t phone up to get them. In the age of technology in which we now live, I think the NHS (at least in North East England) has been left behind by about a century. On the flip side, having had the blood test and results have come through, lo and behold my thyroxine dose needs to be altered. My GP knows nothing of this so when I order a repeat prescription I get the wrong dose. Out by about 100mcg, which is a normal adult dose in itself. Communication, people?

These might seem trivial complaints, and indeed they are, you’re right. I don’t care. I’m getting to the end of the pregnancy, I reserve the right to milk my hormonal status for as long as I’ve got left. Everything would be easily sorted if I switched to my local hospital. But, besides the fact that it’s an awful place to be and I’m seriously doubtful as to whether the staff are actually on this planet, it’s a matter of principle now.

So, rant over. Tune in next time for a more mellow, happy reflection on my pregnancy, when I will appear to be the embodiment of serene motherhood. Probably.