Thinking November

I have the absolute cheek to have just signed up for National Novel Writing Month 2015. With last year’s novel still incomplete in edit, what exactly am I thinking?

Truthfully, I’m thinking that I am a great procrastinator, that I would be awful in the military life because I can’t take orders – even from myself, apparently.

However, I’m also thinking that this time last year I hadn’t even signed up to commit to 50,000 words in a month but I did it in the end.

I’m thinking that I knew the first book had a sequel as I was writing it and it seems daft not to get that down, considering it’s been mulling away in the background.

I’m thinking that I may be sorry to commit to this once again, especially as I obviously hate editing – unless it’s other people’s – just like the writing it down part.

I’m thinking, though, that I have nothing to lose and that I might even manage more of the edit on the first while working on the second because I’ll be so immersed in it again.

I’m thinking that I’m about to move school again in a couple of weeks and that could mean more or less work. And I don’t know which.

I’m thinking, ‘Oh,shit, why am I even letting others know?’

And, mostly, I’m thinking, blogging is one thing, Anne-Marie, but why exactly did you start that in the first place if not to actually gain the confidence to write that book you always knew you would.

Right now, I’m thinking why am I talking about myself in the third person? I hate that.

Frankly, I don’t really know what I’m thinking.

But I’m inclined to share my thoughts, sure or otherwise. So here you have them.

Last year, I swore off blogging during the week to make sure I focused on Nano. It was hard to let go of the reins. Your blog’s like your baby. Well, I think it is. You kind of nurture it along and watch it grow.

Last year, I had tremendous help from guest bloggers who made sure my baby was fed and watered. You know who you are. I don’t know if I’ll be able to let the reins go so completely this time – I’m a born mum – but I would be grateful for offers.

I spoke this over with my family last night. Mixed reception.

‘You haven’t finished editing the first one!’ D’uhh, I know.

‘Does that mean you’ll be holed up in your office again for a whole month?’ Thought that was a bonus for them, myself.

‘Do it, Mum!’ I think I’m gonna.

‘Whatever makes you happy.’ Thanks, hon.

So, I’ve registered. Another one of my not-thought-this-through-type-of-plans-that-I-don’t-make.

I might even try to plan this time – I’ve got nearly two whole weeks before it begins. Loadsa time. :/

So, this is by way of being my notification that I’ve enlisted. About to take orders from myself again. Someone has to keep me in check in the absence of a sergeant-major, I’m thinking.


SEX!!!! (and censorship…shhh)

I had another post in mind for today but I read two posts of a blogger I’ve only recently come to follow. She had some struggles today with a very honest post dealing with oral sex. It was not in the least offensive. But she had her doubts. Her second post reflected these. She removed her first post then reinstated it when her confidence took an upturn.

I think it’s a shame that we are so filled with doubts on what is acceptable here in blogland. None of us is sure when we hit that button to publish just how what we post will be received. I know I have had many doubts. Not only about posts shared but also about comments made. (I’m a bit of a mouth at times. Sorry, but true.) It’s a gamble. No doubt of it.

It does help though if we know that there is an openness in this land of words and shared ideas that, even while some may not agree, there is no need for us to fear what we may discuss.

Another blogger I follow removed a post this week just as I was about to comment and encourage her to continue her presence here.

To both of these bloggers, women after my own heart, I wrote this to let them know that they have my support along with the many who gave theirs in their comments.


Now there are lots of little fancies for your pleasure,

Accoutrements to tickle while you wait,

Gifts for some indulgent self-endeavour

And those reserved just solely for your mate.


There are joys of sex abounding for the asking

With willing hands that wield a sensual load,

Locations for a titillative teasing

And many paths that wend from just one road.


There are tongues and lips that like to go awander,

To travel south where aches throb deep with want,

Many are the mouths that purse to ponder

While fulfilling what leaves others pale and gaunt.


Some there are who know the kamasutra

And ‘read’ its pictures with a certain inclination

While others view such images as puerile

And seek other forms of subtle delectation.


There are Trappists who resist all worldly knowing

And contemplate a life of quietude.

Others scream, orgasmic in the showing

Of bonded bodies. This is also good.


There are mothers, like my own, whose efforts trying

To educate while censoring her spate,

Informed me that, ‘Some people when they’re dining,

Sometimes even like to lick the plate’!


Euphemisms for the genitalia,

‘Flowers’, ‘fannies’, ‘manhood’ and the like

Bemuse the young and crease my sense of humour,

Though my laughter is not done with any spite.


There are places where I’d never speak of sexual

Though not many as I’m open to that sphere.

A censored self is perfectly acceptable

But surely not because of others here.


I welcome how the words found in this venue

Attest to honesty and just debate,

I love that with those words my trust renews

And many get to share some awful fates.


It’s in openness and words said with a glad heart

That many wounds and hurts are lifted, healed,

In discovery that there are others just like you,

When truths, uncertainties are not concealed.


Maybe ponder on a page before dismissing

Just what the writer tries to oft portray.

Where none offence is given then why take some?

Instead believe the words they have to say.


Prohibition never works, we all know this,

Just ask the Jack of Daniels or his pals,

Cunnilingus, fellatio, aka ‘intimate kiss’,

Are just some words used and done by guys and gals.


I’d link to who brought forth this post, no problem,

But I’d firstly want approval, only fair.

The trial of her open poll was awesome

And, if she likes, I’d gladly join and spare


Any sense of blushing for her posting;

It took courage and a readiness to relate.

If others are offended by sex, I’m toasting

That some there are who like to lick that plate!


Now I haven’t checked the spelling of some terms here in this missive

But I’m good with that so some can take red pen,

Strike through all the words they find offensive

And I’ll ignore them. I’d rather have the act than spell their name.




I’m delighted that my new-found friend has found this

And, approval sought, so given with a smile

So here’s the link to Mer; let nought confound us.

Blogging shared makes all the words worthwhile.


Now there’s one who, with her certain sense of giving

And receiving of what is love and how it manifests,

If, shyly, with her own doubts and self-misgivings

Should wish, I’ll proudly show my own self-interest.


For, in sensual words and images depicted,

There really is a world of huge array.

Some view sex as chore, ‘lay back and think of England’,

While she, like many, see the fun and play.

Round In Circles

I don’t really have any right to accept the Liebster Award because my followers exceed 200. Yay! But, I haven’t followed the rules with these awards for quite some time. So I’m not going back in time to the early days of blogging to abide by every rule. Once I’ve broken a rule I quite like pushing to see how far I can go. I had a tame teenage life so I have to rebel now…and again.

Lovely Hillary at ‘‘Why Is There Bread In My Kool-Aid?’’ (fab title, eh? I’ll let you check out why), thinks I deserve it. So, given that I spent my earliest years and so many in between thinking I didn’t deserve things, I’m accepting it.

Now that makes it sound like I didn’t get things or was a bit sad about what I thought I did/ didn’t deserve. But it’s not like that at all. Like so many of my generation, it was indeed a different world back then. Less was more. And expectations were limited to what you believed possible. Money was that thing dad gave mum, mum managed and was spent on rent and food and stuff that kept the homefires burning. It was for camping holidays or the odd B&B. Most of those wouldn’t take a clan at one sitting so camping it was. It was for Christmas and birthday presents, essentially, of my mum’s choosing. And I was always pleasantly surprised.

Except one year when I got a pair of ball-bearing skipping ropes and a bag of pick ‘n’ mix. This is what occasionally happens when your birthday is in January.

What I really wanted was what my sister had received in October. A silver sharpener. I kid you not. One with two holes that took all sizes of pencils. I don’t know what else she received that year. I just couldn’t see past that sharpener. God help me, I’ve been fixated on stationery all my life. Very sad I know. But I just love those shops. I get quite moist and excited going into Paperchase or WH Smith or the aisles in the supermarket devoted to such. My kids go mental when I start browsing there. I love it. Like book shops. I go a bit dreamy eyed and cross-eyed in those too.

I don’t know if it’s because of that silver sharpener or not. That would probably require more psychoanalytical skills than I possess. And maybe a bit of hypnotic regressive therapy. But I like those two little addictions. Who am I gonna hurt with books and sharpeners, eh?

I’m in heaven now in my own little home office. Where I get to have my bits and pieces around me. Staple and staplers, index cards and labels. Lots of paper. I know. I might be quite anal, actually. Except that I don’t necessarily use them. I just quite like having them. Except the paper. I use reams of that stuff. I still love the feel of a pen on paper. It’s mesmerising to me. Sends me off on one. Even just doodling.

Now why am I blethering on about crap like this?

Well, god knows really. Except that having less meant making more of what you did have. So I read. A lot. A lot, a lot. Like all the time. So much so that my mum said I wasn’t an ordinary child, ‘for the love of Jesus go out to play.’ Well, that was ok sometimes. Like playing ‘kick the can’ or hide and seek. Or rounders. But the best times were when dad took us on forays on a Sunday, out to the country. Which was local then. Now it’s built up so much that he wouldn’t recognise it. My granda would have kittens at what they’ve done to the greenbelt. I’m having kittens at what they’ve done to the greenbelt. Despite protests.

When dad was there I was safe. ‘Cos there were big scary bastards out playing with us. And some wee ones I was terrified of too. All age groups mingled. And some of them swore. Seriously, they did. They used bad words that offended my ears. And I was a crapper. My wee sister learned to say, ‘fuck off’ quite early. And therein lay her courage and brave shadow that I could hide behind. Cowering. In case there were monsters. That’s what happens when you read too much and your imagination is allowed to go into overdrive. Monsters everywhere.

I got better when I learned how to swear. Seriously, I was about 14 or so. My eldest brother winded my sister – the brave one. And I called him a, ‘Bbbbbbbaaaaassssttttaaaarrrddd’. That’s how long it took me to force it out between my lips. He was gobsmacked! It was wonderful. He even tried to get back on my good side and ask me not to tell mum about it. He knew he had crossed the boundary when I actually swore at him. How liberating.

I didn’t take to it like a duck to water or anything. I kept it for what my brother liked to call ‘special occasions’. He was usually the recipient.

Now I’m somewhat more liberal in my use of expletives. I got to realise that they’re words. Just words. But some words have more power than others. Depending on who, when, why, what.

And this brings me back right round. I do usually get there in the end.

Words. I love them. More than anything they make me gaga. More than staples and paper. Yes, even more than paper. Which I just love. Have you felt the quality of some of that stuff?

And ‘words’ is where the Liebster Award comes in. It’s where I came in nine months ago. To WordPress. When I fired a few posts out. Well, a lot actually. I had found something, somewhere to talk where, even if people told me to shut up, I could just put my fingers in my ears and go, ‘la,la,la,la,la.’

Sooo, yes…talking a lot. That would be from the quiet child over there who couldn’t say, ‘fuck’ once upon a book ago.

What I really want to say is thank you. It’s not a year that I’ve been here. But it also feels like a really short life-time. Thank you to those of you who read my meanderings and poems that start off one way and finish up another. Thank you for commenting. Thanks for sharing your mind with me. For opening up and not being the big scary bastards I might have once thought bloggers were. And who knew what blogging was anyway? Not me, for sure.

I’m not going to answer any questions for a couple of reasons. One, I’m not entitled to this award. And two, if you really want to know just ask and I’ll tell you.

These are the questions I will answer if you really want to know. Or you can ask me anything else. And I might answer.

Questions from Hillary to me:-

1. What’s your favorite genre to read?

2. When you write do you require silence or can you have “life” happen around you?

3. Do your friends and family know you blog?

4. Have you been published?

5. Are you an introvert or an extrovert?

6. When you are writing, does it swallow you up or do you allow yourself to be interrupted constantly?

7. What program do you write in?

8. What has been your least favorite job?

9. What has been your most favorite job?

10. What brings you the most peace and contentment?

11.  What makes you snort with laughter?

Nominees. Now this I’m going to do. For some reason people are very backward at coming forward when you say, ‘Grab!’ So, here are the ones I’ve discovered fairly recently through links to other people I follow. A funny mummy It only takes Google translate to use words across the world. photography and a few rants that I can’t help smile at even while sympathising with the reasoning.  Gorgeous poetry.

I have no idea except for the first whether these blogs ‘qualify’ for the award based on numbers. But I figure they deserve note. And when else am I gonna walk on the wild side where I can break a few rules?

If you want to follow the rules here they are. Good at passing on the rules, you see. Might speak volumes that. 😉


  • 1. Thank the blogger who nominated you:
  • 2. Answer the 11 questions given to you
  • 3. Nominate 11 other blogs
  • 4. Post 11 questions for your nominees to answer
  • 5.Tag your nominees & post a comment on their blog to let them know you nominated them

new-leibster So, thank you, Hillary for the thought and the award. Thanks to all of you. Many, many thanks for letting me bend your lugs. 😉 x

P.S. To all you lovely people who have nominated me for other awards I hope I have remembered to thank you individually and not missed anyone out. I just don’t always do a post on them unless it comes up my humph. And it did tonight. I still appreciate them so much. But if I followed all the rules I’d never write anything else. And I just can’t do that. Love to all who show their caring in this way. And thank you.x