Glastonbury – An Ode to Mud

Glastonbury – An Ode to Mud

2016 was a special year for Glastonbury; no, it wasn’t Adele, Brexit or even an anniversary no one knew remembered; last year was special because of the mud.

Yes, the mud.  It was beyond horrific, one minute liquid and slippery, the next like quicksand.  It didn’t just eat your wellies, your socks and anything you accidentally dropped, it also ate at your soul, turning it as murky brown as the stuff you were covered in.

The horror came back to me yesterday when I was searching through footage for this year (I’m one of the social media volunteers for Theatre and Circus), and then my prayers to the weather gods began for a very dry Glastonbury.

Because I’m a sharing kind of girl, here’s some “highlights” of the mud – enjoy!


After cooking, rest 5 minutes

After cooking, rest 5 minutes

I’ve just completed my third and final draft of my wee ghost story; it’s been a difficult birth and a long time coming, but I’m far happier with it now than I originally was. It might actually make sense which is fantastic!
The next step, which I’m terrible at (or really good at if I’m procrastinating), is letting it sit and rest, like a piece of steak grilled on the barbecue.  I have to forget it, forget the issues I had with it, and let it become a vague memory. I really am terrible with this, so I’m giving it until next Saturday when I will open the story again and find my way to the fourth and final draft.  
A lot of writers recommend this, and to be honest, I think it’s necessary; sometimes that fantastic phrase you thought was going to change writing as you know it, turns out to be this malformed monster that’s eating your story alive. So, yes, it’s a chance for you to forget your dear ones, assign your pretties to ex-lover status, and in doing so allow them to live or die on merit alone.
So what am I going to do with the next six days?

– fix that terrible spelling mistake in my snow video (I hate February, it seems to be a word I’m incapable of spelling)

– Research cockney speaking. I can hear it in my head, but it doesn’t look right on paper!

– edit a charity video for Just Play. The founders are friends of mine and spend a lot of time at refugee camps all over the world giving kids a chance to just play, which  sounds simple, but is almost impossible unless you create an environment where it’s ok

– edit some Glastonbury videos and start posting them online.  

– this also involves my fave, editing the mud video. Yup, you heard it right, the mud video. Because unless you were at Glasto ’16 you don’t understand mud.  

– Working. Yup, my job which is 2/3 of my life at present and eats up most of my time

– Gym. I have to get fit again, I miss jumping up and down a lot!
I’ve also been encouraged by friends to actually send my story in for publication, so I won’t be posting it online – maybe I’ll create a nice photo story instead. Don’t worry, in 6 months time, when the publications have turned it down, I’ll put it up here. The funny thing is, I think it might be a part of a much bigger story, which will take time to create, and 6 months is a perfect amount of time for me to sort this out!
So that’s a lot for 6 days, so, as always happens with me, it will be mostly working, a bit of gym and some editing. Oh and maybe me wandering speaking in a bad Cockney accent.

Post title here

Post title here

Yup, I’m feeling 100% original tonight.

So I have to admit that I might not be ready to release my wee ghosty into the fiber optic tomorrow, actually there’s no maybe, it’s not happening.

I am plowing on, but I’m halfway through the second draft right now with no clear idea of how I feel about it and whether anyone will want to read it.  As a homage to Charles Dickens’ ghost stories it will be a poor effort, but it will be an effort.  You get credit for turning up and handing something in, right?

Actually J.K.Rowljng pretty much said you did, and she’s like the Dumbledore of writing.

I will post something tomorrow, perhaps a poem, I have a good one about codeine but I can’t find the last line.  Perhaps someone out there could help?

Codeine, you make me twitch and float,

My internal monologue out loud I quote,

My dreams are rainbow unicorns ridden by a fairy,

Or rivers of chocolate – dark not dairy,

But, as much as I love you there’s one small issue,

It makes me cry and I need a tissue,

For when I go toilet that’s when I find the gap,

For the porcelain beckons…

And then nothing, it’s like  I’ve got writer’s block or my creativity is constipated in some way.  Sigh.

See you on the morrow…

Arrival: Mancunian style!

Mind the Gap – Editing

So I’ve just read the wee little ghost story I wrote on the weekend, an I’ve just realised that it’s going to be even “wee-er”  soon enough, as half of the descriptions are repeated or unneeded.  I’m not even sure if it will even be endearing, but next Tuesday I’ll at least have something to post.

The questions I have to ask myself are:

  • Will you miss half of the descriptions?  (Answer: No, the second half of almost every sentence I’ve written is far less cliched and far better than the original)
  • Is it ok to fall asleep reading your own work?  (Answer:  Jury is out on this one.  I might give it a pass this time, I’m actually recovering from an ear infection)
  • Are the character’s believable?  Or, the age old question, “Is it any good?” (Answer:  I’m not going to make millions from it, and I’m not sure it has legs, but as long as I capture the mood of a mid-Winter evening stroll through Bloomsbury then I’ve nailed it)
  • Is there more I can add to make it real?  (Answer: Yes, there are little Twilight Zone moments that will help this)


It’s much shorter than I remembered, which isn’t a bad thing, but considering how much I’d like to trim, it might end up being a very short paragraph!

Tomorrow, I will slice and dice;

Tonight I ponder and dream.

A short story – finding your way

Over the last month and a half I’ve stopped and started writing a number of stories, but last night I thought back to an idea I had when I was in London, which has led me to trawl back through my travel diaries, and today I found my next short story (which actually wasn’t what I was originally looking for!)

This one is a little less magical and a little more supernatural, but is in a similar vein to one of Charles Dickens’ ghost stories and is about where he spent much of his life, Holborn and Bloomsbury.

I’d written a first draft in my diary, which I’ve now transferred to my Note Pad, and I’ll start editing it.  It has legs this one, and teeth, I look forward to recreating it!


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Back on the wagon

Back on the wagon

So it’s taken about a month, but I’ve found a story to write.  I would love to say it came to me in a great moment of inspiration, but the truth is I woke about 1am with my back aching and the thought that someone was lying very close to me.

Thankfully it turns out my flatmate had neither gone “Single White Gay Friend” on me, nor had some stranger snuck into my bedroom, climbed over me to the side of the bed against the wall and started snuggling me, I was merely suffering a case of the 1am jitters.

But it did get me thinking: what if psychics were real (sorry for those that already  believe this)?  What if, instead of hiding out in the country away from people, the best thing for them to do would be to live in the city?

And what if you had a relationship with one?

And so thanks to my lil’ ghost, I now have an idea for a story.  And it’s weird, it certainly hasn’t started off how I thought it would be – at the moment it almost reads like a thesis, but that does create interesting possibilities from that.


Fun fact for the day:

Did you know that city living dwellers show less ability to cope with stress and statistically are more likely to develop a mental illness?

But the good news is that there are just as many addicts who live in the country as the city.

Happy Days!