Just to demonstrate that not everything in my garden is purple - behold! A poppy!
I don’t remember planting poppies, but that’s one of the benefits of being what you might call an Arbitrary Gardener. I think there was a pack of assorted wildflower seed that I hurled around with abandon in April. (A question: if you buy a pack of wildflower seeds and decide where to plant them, are they actually wild?)
The novel continues apace. The deadline may or may not be approaching apacer; I’m not looking up. A blood test at this point would reveal my blood to be 40% Normal Blood Stuff, 30% tea and 30% Haribo. (Send more Haribo!) I love this bit of the process*: everything comes together, I get to put little twiddly bits on things to make them precisely what I want them to be, I get a sense that the novel is starting to breathe on its own.
Because this year has been what it has been, I’m doing all of this closer to submission date that I usually would. But as I’ve said before (and it’s too good a pun not to repeat): when life gives you deadlines, make deadlineade.
In between the coming-together and twiddly-bits and breathing-independently, I’m still finding the odd doozy from Past Me. Exhibit A:
She glances at the clock, which is *describe vintage clock*, and thinks of *name of 1950s murder mystery novel set in suburbia*.
I would like to think that Present Me, powered by tea and Haribo, is doing a top job. Tune in next week to see what Future Me, who will then be reviewing and tweaking the work Present Me is doing now, thinks.
I’m delighted that The Youth says we can show our socks.
I knitted these a couple of years ago and they are still going strong.
In other knitting news, I’m on the second sleeve of a jumper. I am discovering, not for the first time, that arms are a lot longer than you think they are. (Or maybe than I think they are. It’s perfectly possible that everyone else understands arms better than I do.)
I had a lovely email this week, from someone who would like to pay for a writer on a low income to attend one of my Zoom writing workshops. (Aren’t people excellent?)
Edited to add: someone else is sponsoring another place!
How it works is very simple. If you wouldn’t ordinarily be able to afford to come, just take a look at the dates and times below and let me know which workshop you would like to attend. You don’t have to prove that you don’t have the money - I trust you. If several people apply I’ll pull a name out of a hat. I’ll confirm by email if you have, or don’t have, a place.
All are small-group workshops which last 2 hours, and are conducted on Zoom. The times given are BST.
Plot, story and where your ideas come from
5 July 3pm
27 July 6pm
31 July 11am
Characters: creating people we turn the page for
17 July 7pm
26 July 2pm
30 July 11am
If you would like to book directly, the cost is £40 (+VAT if you are in the UK). Just add your details to the sign-up sheet (plot here, character here) and I’ll be in touch to say hello and to confirm payment details.
If you’re unsure whether these workshops are for you, here’s some information that might help you to decide.
The workshop is suitable for anyone writing fiction.
It will be fun, practical and participative.
If this is your first time attending any writing workshop, you are very welcome.
You don’t have to have a Zoom account to participate.
Closed captioning is available.
You won’t be required to read your work out.
If you’ve been on retreat with me before, I think this will still be worth your time.
There will be plenty of time to ask questions.
You’ll receive follow-up resources.
I promise that I am very nice.
A slot for a manuscript assessment in July has just come up. Look here and then message me to arrange a no-obligation chat.
It’s getting warm in the UK, and Harris is not delighted. See how he wilts. (There is a fan just out of shot, and our house is cool. He’s OK, really.)
Until next time, take good care of yourselves, friends,
Stephanie x
* I love all of the bits of the process, really.
I think the seeds are more disappointed than wild because you didn't actually plant them. Perhaps their illusion of grandeur deems them above being randomly scattered. Moreover, this leads one to wonder if the red poppy is rather miffed and would have been purple (I've just been to Gardener's World Live and seen their cousins) had it been lovingly planted. Who knows what goes on in a poppy's head?
😂🌺😂🌸😂