Tag: writing

Just Write, Right?

I don’t often give out writing advice, mainly because I feel more like an eternal learner, but then again, maybe that’s the point. That and the fact I was thinking about how writing, how stories, are a form of communication, and then comes the importance of reading. In a complex world we want our words to hit home, to reflect, to challenge, to inspire… And so we must be open, to grow, to learn… and to read.

Read and learn from what you read, about language, plot, character, and overall flow. Think about the good, the not so good, and those stories that pull you in and keep you there in every beat, engrossed to the final page. What flow, what depth, keeps you turning the page? What do you look for? What do you want to produce?

Write. Read your work out loud, to yourself, to another, to a roomful of others. Stretch and test yourself, until the words sound like music to your ears. Then write, revise, edit, produce more. We’re always striving, always learning, always growing. And when it comes to seeking publishing, always keeping on going. Live with the rejections, keep submitting, and in the meantime write some more, rest, refresh, revisit with clarity and the courage to keep producing, revising, transforming into unique pieces of something new.

You may have inspiration. You may have that elusive talent. The good news is that writing depends on neither. Hard work can produce talent. Engaging in the process can produce inspiration.

Octavia Butler said, “Forget inspiration. Habit is more dependable. Habit will sustain you whether you’re inspired or not. Habit will help you finish and polish your stories. Inspiration won’t. Habit is perseverance in practice.”

So form the habit. Create routines. Write, explore and flex the imagination muscle. Stay determined to develop and grow and produce work to the best that it can be. Listen to the response. Adapt, learn, grow, and persist.

Read. Write. Persist.

And once your book is produced, you have the pleasure of spotting it on a bookshop bookshelf, as I spotted mine last week when visiting Tiverton’s lovely Liznojan bookshop.

Keep writing. Keep reading. Love Books.

Have a great week!

Winter Hues

Winter has arrived, crisp, cold, and muted blue/grey skies with a strange white sheen that makes you wonder, is there snow on the horizon?

Either way, it’s time to hunker down, and hibernate with a good read, and a manuscript in progress. And I have to say, I’m loving the magic of Blood Gift Chronicles Book 3, a book that slips into different time periods, with overlapping lives as we move towards answers to the big question… I love a good origin story, and I love magic, so here goes. And with new societies and landscapes there’s much to get my teeth into. Finally, I get up close and personal with the elusive Evren, a woman who doesn’t fit, but who lives dangerously unapologetically.

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Heroes & Villains in SFF

I’m engrossed in the re-writes of Blood Gift Chronicles Book 3, with characters spanning the good, the bad, and the morally grey, in this far-reaching world where ‘reap what you sow’ takes on a whole new meaning. In a recent scene with a particularly dastardly character, it got me thinking about what makes a good villain.

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A Touch of Nature

Mia is the in-house monitor for season changes. From sun worshipper during the heatwave, to couch potato, taking to her red blanket when Autumn arrives.

After a summer of family grief and the upheaval that comes with it, summer passed in the blink of an eye or a hazy wave, dependent on the moment. So before all the leaves have disappeared from the trees, I thought I’d revisit a recent outing to a local reserve, lovely Dunsford.

We’re so grateful to Devon Wildlife Trust for maintaining these pockets of nature, an outing so magical it inspired a poem:

Dunsford; by Susie Williamson 

Walk with me,

You who feels troubles plenty,

Weighed with thoughts of disconnection,

Bring your heavy steps,

Across the swathes of Clifford Bridge,

Spy the magic from afar,

Allow your mind, your thoughts and all that you are,

To embrace,

Open your heart to the wonders abound,

Dunsford Reverse, nature’s ground,

Where coppices grow, regrow, recycle, renew refresh,

Tune your senses to the cool, crisp clarity of nature’s drug,

Eyes wide to the magic like a heady rush,

In this place of vivid tones,

And transient joy through valley slopes,

Cast your eye,

Over crystal clear waters of the River Teign,

With a rushing flow felt deep within,

Your cells alive with the sounds of a watery dance,

Spy the slender pickings of a native dipper,

The distant tap of a kingfisher,

And in a moment your heart skips a beat,

To hear an otter’s indomitable squeak,

You pause,

Beneath the arched boughs of a sycamore tree,

A place of nature’s unity,

Leaves touch glassy water with the lightest kiss,

While tumbled-down steeples of jagged rocks,

Cloudy crystal granite shards defend the shores,

Watched by passing deer from slopes up high,

Through dappling fronds their furtive spy,

Grants a wish,

For those who look beyond the pale,

To where sun and moon cast dreamlike rays,

Too soon for springtime daffodils,

But climb woodland heights for magicked sights,

And long-tailed tits like dragonflies,

Acorns beneath giant ferns like trees,

Half-eaten in this woodland sanctity

Passersby,

Feel the brush of air from a tawnies wing,

The distant sound of a goosander’s song,

Climb through hazel, oak and hawthorn,

Barbs to give a friendly scratch,

While reaching heady woodland heights,

Breathe the view of this vast valley,

Home to bracken slopes and fallow deer,

And know, our connective tissue.

Stepping Out

I often make a point of getting out and about, appreciating the surrounds, finding calm in nature, inspiration in creativity, and optimism in colour. A recent visit to Stone Lane gardens was oozing in nature, creativity and colour. An enchanting woodland gardens on the edge of Dartmoor, famous for its Birch and Alder trees, and home to a collection of inventive sculptures, as well as giant rhubarb leaves (or at least I think so).

Another wonderfully colourful outing was an accidentally well-timed visit to Tiverton canal, where we were fortunate enough to meet the old shire horse, and resident collie of the horse-drawn barge, all set against a perfectly idyllic riverside backdrop.

There have been a few trips recently, delving into the countryside, looking for places to offer quiet, contemplative calm. And there is a reason for this, after being hit with the tragic death of my wife’s lovely mum, Ruth. It was of course a tragedy for Kate and all the family, and a loss that reverberated throughout the Royal Devon and Exeter hospital, since, like Kate, Ruth worked there as a nurse for many years.

#nursinglegends

We were comforted by the fact that Ruth died peacefully in the intensive care unit. Since my own hospital stay in 2019, I had gifted the unit with one of my paintings, and while waiting in the family room for news of Ruth, it was a comfort to see familiar artwork.

Throughout this time, it has been food for the soul to step out into nature, whether to the granite tops of Darmoor’s Haytor:

Or the tranquil fields of Dart’s farm:

Or closer still to home, along the banks of the river Exe, where sight of an old red telephone box filled with flowers, went some way to lift the spirits.

Wishing everyone a good and peaceful week ahead.

xxx

Happy New Year 2022!!

New Year’s Eve was a day for tying up loose ends, making plans, visiting friends, and a quick trip to one of my favourite places in Exeter: the quay.

   

 

The streets were quiet, but the late-night skies were ablaze with fireworks. Now ever-so-slightly-bleary eyed and time to reflect.

2021 has been a memorable year in more ways than one. I was super proud to be able to release The Warder, Blood Gift Chronicles Book 2, and to receive Firebird Awards for both Return of the Mantra (winner of LGBTQ fiction category) and The Warder (winner of YA fiction category). Click here for my award interview.

Like its predecessor, The Warder was a labour of love over many years, and it’s great to hear from readers who have got in touch or listened at various on-line and in-person events this year.

“The Warder is the sequel to one of my favourite books of 2018, Return of the Mantra. I wasn’t sure Susie would be able to increase the enthusiasm I had for her characters and her world, but she left me reeling after a couple of pages.”

“The way Susie was able to expand her world without slowing down the narrative was a masterclass in worldbuilding.”

‘This book is a charming story of loss, love and finding yourself in the most unexpected places. It is epic fantasy with a heart that will leave you scarred but begging for me. Plus it has dragons and who doesn’t love dragons. I can’t wait to return to this world.”

Click here for full review.

I couldn’t wait to return to the world either, and have been immersed in book 3, working towards the conclusion of the overarching story that connects these three books. Tying up loose ends is hugely satisfying, while further developing the landscapes of the world, complete with new characters and familiar faces at the next stage of their lives. With colour, depth, texture and layers, I’m excited to get back to the writing.

For now a pause as we tip into January, complete with a fresh new diary just waiting to be filled.

I love this time of year, these moments of calm after the busyness of Xmas, the quiet after fireworks to consider possibilities for the year ahead.

Wishing everyone a Happy, Healthy, Peaceful, Creative, Wonderful New Year 2022!!

Festive Lights

Blood Gift Chronicles Book 3 is well underway. I look forward to giving a writing update in the new year, but for now I thought I would take a pause in my working day to share some local festive cheer. It was just a quick trip this year, tagged on to a shopping day, but it’s always a treat to soak up the ambience of Exeter Xmas market, complete with the cathedral looming in the background providing a wonderfully gothic feel.

Then on to spot the decorated trees on-route, since no trip would be complete without a visit to the annual charity tree display – a wonderful reminder of the great work of our local charities.

For the Xmas light display we went further afield with a trip to Powderham castle, armed with mugs of peppermint tea and chocolate brownies to snack on. With the whole castle and gardens lit up like a Xmas tree, it was an impressive display.

But perhaps the star of the show were three orphaned lambs wearing Xmas jumpers, tucked away in the grounds of the secret garden, unfazed by ogling visitors looking to catch that perfect Xmas card shot.

For now it’s back to work, but in the meantime…

Wishing everyone a very Merry Xmas

Happy Holidays, and a

Happy, Healthy, Peaceful New Year 

xxx

 

One World

Just over two months in the new house and it’s feeling like home. Mia continues to be outwitted by the resident squirrel on its hunt for buried nuts, and I’ve discovered a wonderfully bizarre monkey puzzle tree on my regular walk.

In other news, the street is being put on trial for food waste recycling. In the spirit of every little helps the environment, we’re all hoping it stays. Of course, we need many more big helps, and like people all over the world, I watched the events of COP26 unfold on the news. And so, to continue with last week’s theme of climate change, I thought I would share a recent poem inspired by global talks and the dedicated activists demanding we all do better in fighting the looming calamity.

Fight the Calamity; By Susie Williamson

Are humans really the superior species,

Skilled in reasoning, language, solving difficulties?

Introspection is seen as one of our strengths,

So what came of the Paris Agreement?

Did we tighten our belts, get smart, or continue in decadence,

Turning a blind eye to owed recompense?

 

Cop26 comes round and the truth will be told,

To climate activists around the globe.

The suited and booted leading with false ideations,

Reckless in the knife-edge survival of Africa, and those island nations.

It’s not 1.5 or even 2, but a roadmap to 2.7 degrees,

Yet again, the same nations will be on their knees.

 

Or under water; some are already there,

Vanishing islands and coastlines, but with new gas fields, who cares?

Until Mia Mottley steps up and takes to the mic,

Calm and considered, but with words set to strike.

This PM of Barbados speaks for those without choices,

For the powerless, angry, despairing voices.

 

Her message is clear, her intent at the heart,

National solutions just don’t work.

Are we really so blinded and hardened, deaf to the cries,

So willing to turn our backs on countless lives?

So adept at othering, we seem to be,

Price tags on people, scrap humanity.

 

We talk peace and prosperity here in the west,

A blanket omittance of nations oppressed,

Prosperity, illusion if only one third prospers,

While the rest of the globe cowers and suffers.

In the face of calamitous threats, life under siege,

When will global leaders fess up and lead?

 

Will they mourn us on the front line? Eddy Grant once said.

Not when pound signs are favoured over existential dread.

Voice, ambition, action is lacklustre so it seems,

In solving global crises of climate refugees.

Will the path of greed harvest our common destruction?

Or will we choose survival via temperature reduction?

 

There’s no time, we’re at that fork in the road,

The train’s ready, horn blasts, all aboard!

Code red G7, G20, wake up at the COP,

1.5 to survive, 2 degrees and no backstop.

Just death to Barbuda, Kenya, Mozambique,

Antigua, Fiji, The Maldives,

Try harder the people of Samoa holler,

Don’t we treasure Barbados and the people of Dominica?

Tuvalu is sinking, it’s happening now,

Don’t sigh, don’t shrug, don’t sit back and ask, how?

Central banks work in trillions, too huge to fit in our heads,

We have answers, resources, so make a watertight pledge.

Sign up to the global peace army,

Say no to death, and yes to humanity.

***

New Horizons

I’ve returned to Blood Gift Chronicles Book 3 and it’s good to be back. In the midst of a revisit to early drafts, I’m no stranger to heavy-handed deleting, as I incorporate ideas I’ve been mulling over for a while. I plan and plot, dig deep for depth and meaning, while leaving space for the story to evolve and the characters to grow.

I’m excited for this story that will once again work as a standalone, but really, why wouldn’t you read the whole series! Each book is a story in itself, but they’re all connected by an overarching theme. The background mystery we’ve seen unfold so far, comes to a finale in Book 3, and as the world expands, new characters arrive, intermingled with familiar faces. As before there is grit and magic, mythology and drama, love and survival, and dragons… all driven by intriguing characters and spellbinding landscapes.

Like I said, it’s good to be back…

A Splash of Colour

There’s a familiar sight outside the window of my writing room: blurred by heavy rainfall, beyond the rooftops of red brick houses, trees are blowing in a blustery wind. While searching for inspiration for tomorrow evening’s open mic, I thought of May’s challenging weather, and came up with my reading: The Story of the North Wind. It’s actually an extract from my novel, The Warder (Blood Gift Chronicles 2). In the book, Suni is a storyteller, among other things, and The Story of the North Wind is a story she tells. It is a fable from the land of Shendi, the setting for my books, and with nature being the theme for tomorrow evening’s open mic, the fable fits in well.

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