Journal prompts: your opinion about your body and how comfortable you feel about it


I hate prompts like this, so I’m going to keep it brief.

I’m too fat to be healthy, and I’m too fat to be comfortable in cheap theatre seats. I need to lose weight for both aesthetic and health reasons.

I know that I’m supposed to hate my body because of this. All those glossy magazines tell me so. But you know what? I’ve got amazing tits. My legs go on for days. I’m really flexible. I’m physically strong. My eyes are expressive. My hair is like silk.

If anybody wishes to judge my body harshly, they can kiss my flat, cellulite-ridden backside. If I could reach it, I would.



Journal prompts: somewhere I’d like to move to or visit



I’ve been to London many times, but it’s always been for the day, or for an overnight visit. I’ve toured Buckingham Palace, seen countless shows in the West End, spent hours at the Royal Academy, the National Gallery and the British Museum and shopped in Covent Garden. I’ve walked along the South Bank, visited the British Library and bought a Paddington Bear from Paddington Station. I’ve walked across Tower Bridge, explored the Tower of London and been to Madame Tussauds. I’ve cried in both Westminster Abbey and St Paul’s Cathedral. I’ve spent far too much money in Fortnum and Masons and Selfridges and wanted to move into the Piccadilly branch of Waterstones.

I haven’t even scratched the surface of this city. I want to go everywhere and see everything! There’s so much history here, from Roman times to World War II. I’ve never managed to get to the Museum of London, or Highgate Cemetery. I’d love to do a river tour under the famous bridges across the Thames. I’ve visited Hyde Park briefly and I managed to see the famous Hyde Park Corner, but I want to see the whole thing, along with Regent’s Park and London Zoo. The Houses of Parliament are iconic, and I’d love to do the tour. I want to go and see if I can find where Vauxhall Gardens used to be, and trace where my characters would have lived in Mayfair. I’ve never been to Harrods, or ridden on a red London bus.

If only hotels weren’t so damned expensive – you can travel abroad for an all inclusive holiday for less than it would cost for a week in London!

Journal prompts: your academics



I know that the academic world isn’t for everybody, but I loved every minute of my experience learning things. I’m on the other side of that equation now, and while it’s something that I’ve always wanted to do, I do miss learning.

My GCSE grades were pretty good; A*s, As and Bs. My B in Maths was my proudest exam result as I found that by far the hardest. I always struggled with maths, and if it wasn’t for my patient father coaxing me through the curriculum I would have failed.

My A Levels were more of a mixed bag. An A, in Sociology; my tutor for the Lower Sixth may have turned into a convicted rapist in his later years, but by God, I got a thorough grounding in Marxism, Functionalism and Symbolic Interactionalism. Add a healthy amount of bullshitting in my final exam, and I flew through that one. A B in English Literature, which I found a little disappointing as I loved that subject so much. I really did poorly, by my standards, in my History; only a C grade. That was a real disappointment, but deserved. I found coping with the stress of exams so difficult that didn’t revise enough. I also got an AS Level in General Studies, which is as useless as it sounds. I talked about it briefly in this post where I talked about role models. I took an S Level  – a step above A Level – in English too, and passed that, although not with any particular distinction.

Back then, the UCAS points system awarded ten points for an A, eight for a B, six for a C, etc. I needed something like twenty two points to get into the university course I wanted, and somehow in my head I convinced myself that because that was what I needed, that was what I would get. When I actually saw my results I was thrown because my brain couldn’t process the number of points I received. I had cleared that goal with just my A Levels, but with the other qualifications too I was closer to thirty than twenty. My old Maths teacher was there on results day as she was also the Exams Officer, and mistook my confusion for horror. I had to thrust the slip into her hand and ask her to tell me if I had the points I needed for university. The look of exasperation she gave me is forever etched into my memory!

I went to the University of Wales, Aberystwyth, which is now just Aberystwyth University. It’s a beautiful small town on the west coast of Wales, with dolphins in the bay, a ruined castle next to the nineteenth century campus and a wonderful feeling of warmth and safety. I read English and History, with a focus on Anglo-Saxon and Norman history. To this day I consider myself half a historian. There I finally found academic freedom and it was the happiest three years of my life. I would have loved to continue on to an MA, and even a PhD, but there just wasn’t the money available. Instead, I took a one year PGCE course and qualified as a teacher. I’ve just recently achieved a Graduate Diploma in Professional Development (Leadership), which was a draining and painful experience. I don’t think it’s possible for me to juggle my day job, writing and earning any more professional qualifications – it’s just too much.

Should I ever win the lottery and give up work, I think I’d go back into full time education. I love teaching, but I love learning more and there’s just so much I don’t know!

Journal prompts: five pet peeves

pet peeves


Only five? Really? Okay…

Well, there’s one. Misuse of the ellipsis. Ellipsis is not supposed to be use to create a cliffhanger, or a long pause. Ellipsis is used to show the intentional omission of a word or words from a sentence. That’s it. It’s been co-opted for a lazy purpose, and I don’t like it. I never use it that way in my books, and it drives me crazy when I see other writers using it.

People who chew with their mouths open. It’s disgusting and they should know better. It smacks of bad manners, which is just inexcusable. I don’t care who you are or where you’re from, if you’re older than five you should know better. Speaking of bad manners, people who don’t bother holding doors open for people behind them should be banned.

I’m borrowing this one from Book from Firefly, but there is a special hell for people who talk in the theatre. I’m including the cinema in this, and I will be the person who leans forward and tells you off for ruining my experience. I have no fear in this regard.

There seems to be a fad for putting a question mark at the end of opinion sentences at the moment, at least on the online comment sections that I read. Stop it! Just stop it! If you have an opinion, then you have an opinion. Own it! It’s yours! Using a question mark makes it look like you’re unsure of your own opinion and can’t structure a sentence accurately.

People who don’t parent their children properly. I know from a brief babysitting stint just how frustrating it can be looking after a three year old, and I only had to look after her for three days. Being a full time parent is a very hard job, and it deserves respect. But if you catch your child hitting another one, and then smack them as a punishment, or catch them swearing and shriek “Don’t fucking swear!” at them, then I think you’re falling down on the job. If you take your child to a public place, like a restaurant, and then don’t try to keep them occupied, then I think you should take them home. I’m paying for my dining experience too, and I don’t want to do it while your bored child is running about the place shrieking.



Journal prompts: five ways to win my heart



I’m a bit jaded on  the love front, to be honest; my real life experiences have been bittersweet, at best. The love that I write about certainly isn’t realistic, or, at least, my experience of real love. But that’s the point of romance novels, isn’t it? To be unrealistic?

Any man who wants to win my heart isn’t getting much of a prize. It’s a bit battered and scarred. Should he be out there, however, here’s what he’d have to do.

Show loyalty. Men who can’t make a promise and stick to it aren’t men I need to be with. When I fall in love I’m loyal. I’ve ended relationships, of course, but I’ve never lied to a man about how I feel. I’ve never cheated on a boyfriend and I would never tolerate a man who cheated on me.

Have a sense of the absurd. Life is ridiculous. If you can’t laugh about it, I don’t need you.

Have patience. With me, and with the world in general. Good things come to those who wait.

Be intelligent. He doesn’t have to be a MENSA candidate, but I need someone smarter than the average bear. Not only do I find intelligence and competence very sexy, but I just can’t imagine building a successful relationship with somebody who can’t keep up with my brain. That sounds boastful, doesn’t it? Well, so be it. I’m no genius but I’m not stupid, either. I’ve dated people who turned out to be not at my mental level, and it was a painful experience. Intelligence is a must, in whatever form it shows itself.

Be kind. Be kind to animals, kind to children, kind to those who are weaker or in need. Show mercy. Help people without expecting reward. I don’t have many spiritual ideas, but I do think you get back what you give out. I try to be kind, although I know that I can be kinder than I am in the way I speak about people. I couldn’t imagine being with a man who isn’t kind.

I don’t want much, do I?


Journal Prompts: Who is your role model?

Oh, I got into trouble for this once in school!

When I was in Sixth Form, we were required to take an AS Level (half an A Level) in General Studies, a subject so vague, nebulous and useless that they couldn’t even give it a name worth remembering. There were units in science, art, religious studies and…um…I can’t remember. I stopped listening, I think.

Anyway, in one class I remember that we were asked to give a short presentation on our role models. I picked two that meant something to me, but after I had given my presentation the teacher, who was the Head of Sixth Form, was incredibly angry and accused me of not taking the assignment seriously. That annoyed me, because I was probably the only person in the room who had taken it seriously!

I’ve added another role model since then, although I should have probably included her at the time. So then, in no particular order:

Number One: Miss Piggy

miss piggy

Yes, I know she’s a puppet, but seriously, there’s a lot to admire here. Some may call her an attention-seeking diva with a ridiculously short fuse, but that’s never stopped some of the great divas from behaving in exactly the same way!

Miss Piggy is all about her career, and that’s no bad thing for a woman to be. She’s the headline act of the Muppet Show, and demanding the respect she’s due isn’t a crime.

Miss Piggy only has eyes for one frog, and that’s her beloved Kermit. Say what you like about their tempestuous love life, but she’s never looked twice at another frog. Or pig. Or bear. Or whatever. She’s loyal, which has to be a good thing.

Miss Piggy has never needed anybody else to stand up for her. If somebody’s giving her crap, she karate-chops them across the room. Tell me that isn’t bad ass. Tell me that isn’t something every woman should be able to do, if they need it.

Miss Piggy, role model.




This next one is a little more obscure, but came about due to my incessant reading during my teenage years. This is a photograph of a woman who called herself Anna Anderson. She also called herself the Grand Duchess Anastasia Romanova until the day she died.

Now, we all know the truth. The Russian royal family – the Tsar, the Tsarina, and their five children – were all murdered in 1917. The story is gruesome and I won’t repeat it here, but ambiguity first arose when only five of the seven bodies of the murdered family were recovered. The Tsarevitch Alexei and one of his sisters were missing, and several women came forward claiming to be the youngest Romanov daughter, Anastasia.

The most famous was Anna Anderson, whose real name was Franziska Schanzkowska. Her claim to be Anastasia was met with confusion by the people who had known the young royal. They were split; while some were sure that Anderson wasn’t Anastasia, others really did believe. There was a court case that ruled that she wasn’t, but notoriety can be more powerful than legalities. Anna Anderson, as she eventually became known, bounced around the homes of crowned heads of Europe and wealthy Americans for most of her life. While she was alive, nobody could prove that she was Anastasia. More crucially, nobody could prove that she wasn’t.

Of course, DNA tests on part of her intestine removed during an operation in America have since proved that she shares no genetic relationship to surviving relatives of the Tsarina. She was what so many people said she was: a mentally unstable Polish factory worker who lied about her identity.


This woman, who undoubtedly was suffering from severe mental illness that drove her to a suicide attempt in Berlin and some very disturbing behaviour during the rest of her life, managed to do something quite remarkable. She somehow managed to convince people who had actually known the real Anastasia that she was, in fact, a member of the Russian royal family. These people weren’t just humouring her. They truly believed that she was Anastasia. She kept this up from the 1920s until her death in 1984. That’s sixty years! Sixty years! More than that, the people that didn’t believe her (and quite rightly, it turned out) couldn’t gather enough conclusive evidence to turn her supporters against her. Not until DNA testing became available.

Not bad for a poorly educated factory worker, who wasn’t even from Russia.

So yes, she lied. She lied long and she lied hard, but my god, what a life she had. You have to admire her ability to make what must have been a horrible life into one materially a lot better. That’s why she’s a role model – she did what she needed to do, no matter why her confused mind told her she needed to do it.




My third role model is Granny Weatherwax, a character from Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series. She’s a witch, which is rather obvious by her pointy hat, which she wears largely for reasons of Headology and, in the later years of her life, to cover You, the small white kitten that had adopted her and liked to ride on her head.

Granny is clever, fearless and utterly convinced that she knows best about everything, which, to be fair, is true most of the time. She’s faced down vampires, evil elves and Death himself in order to protect the people of Lancre, the village that respects her more than likes her. She even took on her own sister, a Godmother, and walked away victorious thanks to her iron will, self control and expert knowledge of magic, which she tries to use as little as possible.

She charges into life at full ramming speed, expecting everything else to get out of her way. She is the best at what she does, and she knows that the price that she has to pay for being the best is having to be the best, no matter what. Every threat to Lancre is hers to deal with because only she can deal with it.  In a way, that resonated with me. I was a clever kid. Not genius level, or anything, but usually I was the smartest person in the room when I was growing up. Sooner or later there became the expectation that I would be the first to put up my hand, get the highest test scores, be the first person in my family to get good examination passes, go on to university, make something of myself. The pressure, although well-meaning, was intense. I always worried that I wouldn’t be able to keep up, that I’d slip somehow, that I’d let everybody down. Knowing that there was somebody else out there that understood that pressure, even if she was fictional, really helped.

I met Terry Pratchett once. The only time I skipped school, I went to a book signing.Such a rebel! I deeply regret not being able to tell him how Granny helped me get through those teenage years. He’s gone now, a victim of a horrible disease that robbed a family of a husband and father and the rest of the world of a writer of exceptional wit, humour and humanity. He took Granny with him, which is perhaps fitting. I couldn’t imagine wanting to be without her either.


Journal Prompts: A movie you can quote by heart



There are plenty of movies I can quote just about every word from, but today’s little entry is just going to talk about what is probably my favourite musical: Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. 

Famous today for the iconic Marilyn Monroe number, Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend, my real joy in this movie is not Monroe’s ditzy blonde with a sharp mercenary streak Lorelei Lee, but Jane Russell, playing the clever, acerbic Dorothy Shaw.

Lorelei and Dorothy are showgirls, entertaining rich men every night in an upmarket night club. While Dorothy is focused on doing her job, Lorelei is on the lookout for a rich husband, and has found a willing volunteer. The problem is, he’s not really the rich one: his father is, and his father will not countenance his only son marrying a platinum blonde showgirl. Lorelei’s answer to this problem is to take a trip to Paris – as soon as her rich boyfriend breaks and follows her there, they can get married without his father interfering. The problem is, the father has hired a private investigator to look into Lorelei, and she’s a girl who gets into a lot of trouble, even in the middle of the Atlantic!

Luckily for Lorelei, she has her best friend Dorothy to help get her out of a jam. That is, of course, if Dorothy can tear her eyes away from the US Olympic team who are travelling on the same boat to France the women are. She may be acting as chaperone, but as she tells Lorelei’s fiance firmly:

“Now lets get this straight, Gus. The chaperone’s job is to see that nobody else has any fun. Nobody chaperones the chaperone. That’s why I’m so right for this job!”

Dorothy is clever, witty, brash and not scared of a damned thing. She’s not a gold-digger like her best friend, but a woman who falls in love with the wrong man regularly, which she accepts with wry resignation. She’s loyal to Lorelei when most wouldn’t be, and isn’t scared to give as good as she gets. She even puts up with Lorelei’s determined matchmaking!

Dorothy: What are you doing?

Lorelei: Checking the passenger list. “Mr. Alfred Loman and valet.” “Mr. Eugene Martin and valet.”

Dorothy: Why the sudden interest in valets?

Lorelei: When a man has “and valet” after his name, he’s worthwhile. I’m trying to find a gentleman escort for you… Do you want a loveless marriage?

Dorothy: Me, loveless?

Lorelei: If a girl spends time worrying about the money she doesn’t have, how will she have any time for love? I want you to find happiness and stop having fun.

Dorothy: That baffles me.

Lorelei: You’ll thank me some day. Here’s a good one: “Henry Spofford III and valet.” I remember. The Spofford family owns practically a whole state. A big one too. I think it’s Pennsylvania!

Dorothy: I guess I could settle for Pennsylvania.

Lorelei: Hello, Mrs. Henry Spofford III!

Dorothy: Mrs. Henry Spofford III and valet. He won’t have anything I don’t.

This was made in 1954, and it shows. A modern woman doesn’t have much to look up to in Lorelei, although she does have a certain cunning charm. It’s a musical with pretty much only one big number, which goes to Monroe, although Russell gets a crack at it too at the end of the movie. Russell’s big stand-alone song , “Is Anyone Here For Love?” sees her sing and dance in the middle of the ship’s gymnasium as the US Olympic gymnasts, wrestlers and, it seems, dance team, work out in skin-tight, skin-coloured briefs. The number ends with Russell taking a tumble into the pool, only to be hoisted out, still singing, by some of the helpful wrestling dancers. That, it turns out, was a mistake; one of the extras who was supposed to dive over Jane Russell and into the pool caught her with his foot accidentally and toppled her into the pool. They changed the ending to include the splash, and Russell gamely went along with it, looking impossibly glamorous while soaking wet and in agony with a bad back.

Jane Russell, musical bad ass.

The costumes are wonderful – perfect clothes that you couldn’t imagine wearing yourself but look fabulous on Russell and Monroe. The songs are catchy – I’ve had a snippet of “When Love Goes Wrong” in my head for days – and the two female leads are in wonderful form. The men are largely forgettable, but that’s okay. This isn’t a film about the men. It’s all about the women, and that’s why I love it so much. It’s funny and romantic, and ends well for everybody, which is what I want in a musical.

If you’re fond of a musical and you haven’t indulged, do. You won’t regret it!



Journal Prompt: The books in your to-read list


reading list

In an attempt to make paying for this website worth it, I’m really trying to post more often! So, I’ve downloaded a list of journal prompts for June, and I’m going to use them here, instead.

So, books in my to-read list. Thanks to my bullet journal, I have one of these now! They’re mostly to be published, but that still counts!

Melanie Rawn, Glass Thorn Series Book 4, Playing To The Gods

I have a long standing grudge against Ms Rawn; having devoured her first two fantasy series as a teenager, I dived into her next series with unbridled enthusiasm, gobbling up the first two books. I went to university, eagerly anticipating the release of the final book in the trilogy…and that was nineteen years ago.

I know that there have been many extenuating circumstances explaining why she never wrote the third book, but it irritates me that she’s gone on to write a few stand alones and a new series and never gone back to write The Captal’s Tower. Or even tell us the ending, if she can’t or won’t write the book. What’s more irritating is that the Glass Thorn series is really, really good and I can’t wait for the fourth book.

Damn it.

Due in August 2017. Allegedly.

Ben Aaronovitch, Rivers of London Series Book 6The Hanging Tree

Another fantasy series, this time by a British author set in London where PC Peter Grant, newly minted member of the London Metropolitan Police Service has just discovered that magic is real, and that the Met has a division to deal with ghosts, magic, river spirits and all sorts of weird crap that the normal police officers pretend not to notice. He is taken under the wing of Britain’s last surviving wizard and moves into The Folly, the last bastion of formal magic in the UK. Funny magical realism? A blend of science and fantasy, with a dog called Toby? Yes please! I can’t wait for this one to be released in October of this year. All the others have been fantastic.

Paul Cornell, Shadow Police Book 1, London Falling

This is out at the  moment, and seems to be a more serious version of the books above. Paul Cornell has written for Doctor Who and I like the sound of the blurb, so I’ll give it a go when I’ve got time this summer.

J K Rowling, Harry Potter Series, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child 

Not a new book, sadly, but the published script of the new play that I will never get tickets for! It doesn’t matter! I’ll take it! Available from July 31st 2016.

Libbie Hawker, Take Off Your Pants! Outline Your Book For Faster, Better Writing

This was recommended on Facebook. I’m always trying to be a better writer, so it can’t hurt to read it and see what she recommends. You never know, I might just learn something!

George R R Martin, A Song of Ice And Fire Series Book 7, The Winds of Winter

Ah, the Great Glacier himself. I have been reading A Song Of Ice and Fire for twenty years now, and the series still hasn’t finished! The time it takes him to finish a book is a bone of contention for many fans, but I’m prepared to wait if it means we get a great book! Sample chapters have been released for this book, so it must mean that we’re close to getting a release date! The TV show has been great, but I’m a book reader first and foremost, so seeing characters do things that I know they didn’t do in the book (marry, die, change their name, come back from the dead, murder their children, etc) is a bit strange.

I’m just hoping that George gets to finish his series, unlike poor Robert Jordan. Thankfully, I bailed on The Wheel of Time series around book six. I wanted to have them all ready to read one after the other rather than hang around for the next one. Binge reading, if you will. I haven’t bothered to finish the series. Perhaps I’ll start it again now that the series has been finished.

186, 187, 188, 189, 190…
Photo from


If you asked me if I wanted to sit down and write out a list of numbers from one to one hundred and ninety, the answer would be no. I mean, of course it would be no. What sane person wants to sit down and write out a list of numbers?

If, however, you asked me if I wanted to sit down with a brand new extra-large Orchid Purple Moleskine journal with dotted paper and an internal storage pocket and number the pages ready to start a proper bullet journal, then the answer would be oh my God, yes, give me my fineliners and get out of the way!

I hadn’t come across the idea of a bullet journal before, but a work colleague started one and shared a Buzzfeed article about it on Facebook. Once I did a bit of research I decided to start a practice one, just to see if I could do it. A week in and I’m hooked!

Bullet journaling is all about keeping track of your life in a simple format.It keeps a record of the past, tracks the present and helps organise the future. I have tried to use apps to help me do this, but I haven’t found one that does everything I want. Plus, there’s the added bonus that a journal will never run out of battery, unlike my iPad or iPhone.

It’s easy to customise and make your own. A simple Google search will show you examples of insanely beautiful journals, created by true artistic talents. Lots of amazing calligraphy, pretty doodles and washi tape all over the place! Mine…well, let’s just say that mine won’t look like that! I’m no artist, to put it mildly, and I’m not a particularly visual person. I have ordered a stencil from Etsy to help pretty mine up, but that will be the extent of it, I think.



This video, from the creator of the bullet journal, explains it better than I can.

I’m making a conscious effort not to include my day job in the journal. This is to plan my writing, my personal goals and my outside work life. I’m trying to claw back some work/life balance, and I hope that the bullet journal will help me do that.

So far, I’ve got the weekly planner set up although I’m trialing a few different layouts to see which ones I like. I have a future log for events I know will be happening  – birthdays, the car MOT, etc – and a monthly tracking list for events that need to get done at some point – perhaps this month, perhaps not, depending on circumstances. I’m tracking some of my habits, both bad and good, and I’m making lists of things I want to remember. I have a list of books that aren’t out yet that I want to read, because I’m tired of missing release dates. I used to really be into music, but since I’ve stopped listening to fanmixes I’ve stopped discovering new artists that I like. I’m going to keep track of songs that I come across that I like, so I can find albums by the artist. I have a list of recipes I want to try, and I’m going to try and work my Slimming World planning into it as well, as losing weight is a constant (unreached!) goal of mine. I’m trying to make one bullet every day about something I’m grateful for, although I’m not sure if I should do that in a separate log or include it in my daily one.

At some point, I’ll use the journal to plan books too, although I’m going to have to think about how to do that so it’s practical and useful.

I’m pinning whatever I can find about bullet journals on Pintrest and printing out helpful free things that other journalers are kind enough to produce. If anybody has any ideas or tips, send them my way!


Sneak peek!



It’s up! A little later than promised, but the first chapter of the third book in the Ruttingdon Series, Having Faith, is now here!

Never trust the wrong man, especially with your heart. But how does one know ahead of time he is the wrong man?

In the case of innocent vicar’s daughter Faith Halstead, governess to a middle class family with a marriageable son, one only finds out he is a cad after it is too late. Now she is alone in the world, a fallen woman, facing a bleak and uncertain future.

While leaving London in disgrace, a chance encounter on the train lands Faith in front of the darkly dominant Duke of Buckingham. He is in search of a woman to serve as his slave at an upcoming Ruttingdon Club house party, and the shy, modest young woman has unaccountably captured his attention.

Desperate for any excuse not to return home to her harshly judgmental father, Faith rashly promises to serve as the duke’s absolute slave for a week, alone with him at secluded Ruttingdon Hall.

Will his dark and brutal desires and the oftentimes sweet pain he inflicts upon her ripe body drive her away, or will the awakening desires in her heart seduce her into staying longer with him – perhaps forever?

Publisher’s Note – This book contains adult, consensual spanking and discipline, and graphic descriptions of sexual activity. If such material bothers or offends you, please do not read it.

Available from Blushing Books and Amazon on August 2nd 2016!