Writing Woes

Quiet historic Raymoth lane where I lived

Eunice today – age70

 

It grieves me that I do not have the discipline, or an agent in lieu, to be a succesful writer. I t writing. I hate editing. Actually I can no longer see to edit. 

The answer is to find an agent who appoints an editor… or some other excuse. Mills and Boon are still waIting for a second book they invited me to submit when they said my first submission, Island of Flowers, did not have enough coflict (they had a format). 

That book is a romance featuring Poinsettia Garland (known as Pansy – the reason is in the book) and the notorious (in the family) page 22; “A we bit lis” – Auntie Joan. The hero is a French flower importer, tall, and pretty cool. He is not a pansy by the way.

 It is even ‘fini’, with a happy ending and all. Are you on the scent? I need to get it at least on Kindle before cd disks are no longer legible. 

Or do I join up the two halves of my historical novel, loosely based on some family details given to me by my beloved Nev on his death bed? No joke. It is an Australian multicultural historical novel. Sort of topical now.

I have written are loads of memoirs, some printed and collated into a book. Or ‘Ruth’s Garden’ – .poems and photos that I printed and sold through the local nursery. Oh it goes on. 

My family inherits, unwillingly, a large plastic bin of various manuscripts, plus disks and.scraps of handwritten paper containing spontaneous ‘poyums’ that got no further. Plus a fat folder of published stories and poems, ten anthologies and several magazines containing my work. I am not a failure at writing, just at the business of writing, and publishing.

One has to have a life to become a writer, or be observant enough to write about other people’s, but the crucial point is to write it down, print it out, get it published, and hopefully make it pay; that being the only measure os success in this day and age.

I have had too much life in my life. No one argues that. Point is, I have worn myself out having that life, so need to sit my backache down at the laptop, block out the four lanes of hurtling expressway only a few metres from my window, and get on with it. But not right now.

On the other hand, I was beginning to make a name for myself as a freelance journalist (Eunice Hobson. Pre-Google). I racketed around the countryside in my Datsun Stanza taking rolls of black and white film for The Land to print and publish…oh lots of stuff in my scrapbook. I even had my byline and got paid! I will tell you about that next time

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HAPPY DAYS


A a merry morning on Youtube with all the old pop music – putting faces to the songs,some for the first time. Electric solid guitars were a new invention. New sounds, new rhythms, new dances. My first disco was in Leeds in 1966, while I was doing my Tax Officer training. Several of us on the course went. Dark cave-like place, blue and white flashing lights. Came out couldn’t hear each other speaking for ages due to the damage from very loud music! Good times.

PS While in Leeds I bought the three-tiered veil for my wedding in 1967. The embroidered second tier doesn’t show up here, nor the fabric flower headress. The silver sling-back shoes with silver leather flower held on by a diamonte’ centre were bought in Sheffield. The treebark satin A-line (ultra-trendy) dresses were all beautifully made by Mum, very reluctantly since she wanted me to have a proper, bought, bridal dress! But I have never seen a wedding collection I have liked more. Thank you Mum.

Me at my Grandaughter’s Age

My friend Barrie has taken up touching up old photos and here I am after being touched up (English joke). This is his van for their ‘group’ (sixties rock band) that my school friends and I used to follow (the band not the van, ha ha). They were a great band Roy Dwain and the Roamers nice lads and we were good girls. Jean and Annie in my class at Retford Girls High School ran their fan club. They were good days. Some of the original popular pmusic by the band is on Youtube click here Roy Dwain and the Roamers. This is my favourite clip. Now my grandaughter is the same age and is and about to learn to drive! Her bands come to the local Arena and cost a fortune, especially if you want to meet and greet. Our band used to hang out with their girlfriends in the interval (break) offstage in the dance hall and would happily sign photos. They had fun. We had fun.

All In The Attitude

Meeting up with oldest most inspirational friend in Hamilton as she is catching the train down to shop for a swimsuit in the trendy swimwear shop to wear for her swimming exercise at the local gym. My swimsuit hangs in the wardrobe having never seen daylight, let alone water. Gwen meets her health issues head on and keeps going. After two hours total sleep I am struggling to get ready and go worship at the feet of this geriatric goddess! Just battling my way into one swimsuit in Spandex would require a lie down for me but the walk along the shopping street and good coffee will loosen me up and Gwen is a tonic at any time. So much to talk about and will come back determined to step up my exercise – after a lie down! 

Meet CHARLIE


Meet my new best friend! Actually I have had it for years, even washed it as well as wiping it clean, which is how I noticed this time a velcro opening underneath and a little microwaveable wheat heat back inside!
So tónight while I am wide awake due to nerve pain from my spine I gave the poor little ducķy ten seconds apreadeagled on the micro turntable and now my back is kovely and warm, right where it hurts, and on the first cool night in weeks. Bliss!

Biggest Sundial in the…

​Jonny Walker wwas performing from Hebden Bridge ,UK, by the sundial the other day so couldn’t resist doing a Cŕocodile Dundee and sending a pic of the Singleton  Sundial that I had passed only that day (pictured). It was intended to e the biggest in the world but India soon put us right. The Samrat Yantra in Jaipur lays disputed  claim to that. However “our” sundial is the largest in the Southern Hemisphere and that will do me! I was on the local Bicentennial Committee (200 years of Atralian government, or something – such a young country) and this signifies the link between the old time and the new. One American tourist asked me ‘ How does it tell time at night?’ ‘Oh we turn the floodlights on!’, I blithely replied. Bit guilty.