Tag Archives: time wasters for writers.

Something’s missing, but I don’t know what it is…?

This is going to be one of those posts I’ll wish I never posted. No matter how bad it is though, no matter how silly I feel, I won’t delete it, because I promised Ms Ruby, most sincerely, that I would never ever delete another post. Of course, I could always draft it first, but drafts are boring and for sissies, so no, I’ll take my chances on regret.

Something is missing in my life. There is an emptiness that chocolate wont fill. Nor red wine. I have everything I need for happiness. I really do. And Spring is 14 days away. That always cheers me up. But for some reason, not this week.

Whatever this thing is, it’s also missing from my writing, which strangely enough is about missing things. I can feel it missing in my voice when I chat to friends. It’s missing all the time. But I don’t know what it is.

Perhaps it’s human nature; the need to fill spaces. Handbags. Cupboards. Houses. Minds. All getting crammed with stuff.

Anyone else feeling it? Perhaps it’s got something to do with Saturn moving through an empty part of the sky. Who knows?

At this point I could hit the “Move to Trash” button….

But no, despite this post having nothing to do with writing. I’ll leave it here.

Filling up a little bit of space on the WordPress site. Making one tiny spot less empty.



Filed under authors, blogging, life, love, red wine, time wasters for editors, weird stuff, writers, Writing

When your heart is breaking…write

Oh, how I envy those poets. Those men and women who can juggle a few words in their head and then put them onto the page (or screen) in an way that carries meaning.

How do they do that?

When my heart is breaking, or doing anything else out of the ordinary, besides beating, I write.

Even when I have nothing to say. When the words elude me. It’s healthier than drinking. It’s cheaper than therapy. Even emptiness can sometimes bear fruit.

I wish, with a passion, that I could write poetry, because I think it’s such a good pain vessel; almost specifically designed for the task.

But my poetry would turn out something like this:


And really what good is a one word poem?

How much of your heart finds its way onto the page?

Do your character express your emotional experiences? Do words help you make sense of life?

I’m sending love and gratitude to all the poets out there for expressing the inexpressible.

X Lisa


Filed under blogging, fiction, life, Reading, red wine, romance, weird stuff, writers, Writing

If books are like babies, then blogs are like lovers

I must admit, dear blog, you are definitely exciting to be around. I love spending time with you. You make me laugh.  You’ve made me cry but I forgive you. When I’m with you I see the world through different eyes. You’re full of fun and occasional mischief, you’re intelligent too. I love your sense of humour and appreciate the way you lift my spirits when I’m feeling down.

But you are very addictive.  Aren’t you?  I’m sure I’m not the first to tell you this.  And I sometimes wonder how faithful you are. I suspect you lavish attention on other people when I’m offline.

So, I’ve decided to cut down a little.  No, I couldn’t give you up completely. You know I’m hooked. But the baby is almost due, and the house need cleaning and someone has to do the day to day mundane household chores. And you certainly won’t.

Did you hear me?


You know the saddest thing is; you won’t even know that I’ve gone….




Filed under authors, blogging, books, I should be editing right now, philosophy, Reading, writers, Writing

The most important question to ask while visiting earth

Writing can be a very healing, somewhat cathartic experience; hence the popularity of blogging.  We need to get things out of us and down on paper (or on-screen) in order to make sense of them. It’s like the difference between hearing directions to a destination, as opposed to seeing the map laid out before you (if you’re auditory, rather than visual, of course, you may prefer to hear the directions.)

The past twelve months have seen my life change in quite major ways and with these changes a question has been forming in my mind.  I think it’s an important question.

Is the world hostile, or friendly?

The immediate answer most people would give is that the world is both. Sometimes friendly, sometimes not. Perhaps it depends on where you live.  Or  it might change from day-to-day. Sun shining, love blooming, birds singing or planes crashing, lovers leaving, rain pouring.

I’m not talking about people living in abject poverty, or in war zones, or in the midst of a personal tragedy, although even people here have found ways to elevate their consciousness above their cruel circumstances (truly inspiring folk), but those of us who live in a relatively wealthy country, who have fresh water at the turn of the tap, food always available, a place to sleep, friends to confide in. What world do we inhabit?

Let us consider these two worlds for a moment, because they create very different experiences:

The world is hostile. Do we think that everyone is out to get us, that we never get a break, that Life isn’t fair, that no one cares, that it’s not safe to trust anyone, that life is hard, a struggle, one thing after another?

This is a sad place to be. I’ve visited this place many times. I went there during my divorce. I went there when my health declined. When my manuscript got rejected. I wrapped this sad place around my shoulders and dragged it around after me. I experienced a true heaviness of spirit. Everything goes wrong when you believe the world is hostile. Birds still sing, but you don’t hear them. Parking places are still there, but you miss them. Friends still love you, but you might not feel it.

stock photo Left behind

The world is friendly: Do we give and receive smiles easily, appreciate the simple things in life, notice beauty in our surroundings, make time to spend with the people we love, believe that everything happens for a good reason, treat ourselves with kindness and compassion?

This is heaven, this place; it can be worn as easily and lightly as Summer. I visited here after I got sick and tired of the other hostile world. I heard the birds singing, opportunities came to me without trying, I found the car parks, fell in love with everyone I encountered.

stock photo Bunch Of Roses

It started with a decision one day. With the question; is this place hostile or friendly?  I realised that life was a choice I had to make, it was not something that happened randomly to me. I made no conscious external changes (although they occurred without trying) but I did make a huge internal adjustment.  And that made all the difference.

I wish you all a friendly world.


Filed under authors, blogging, books, editors, fiction, life, philosophy, Reading, reviews, Uncategorized, writers, Writing

Should I be me or pretend to be someone better?

Milk Fever tiptoed into the book stores on Tuesday, and I thought long and hard about what image (or brand) I needed to project as a writer (many people have told me I need an image).

Right, an image.  I should probably try to look intellectual. [No more pink; my favourite colour].  Perhaps I should dye my blonde hair too?  My best friend claims to feel smarter now that she is a brunette.  Or do people just treat her differently? Not sure. I might experiment with that one.

My biggest fear is that I will say something ridiculous.  I am a blurter, you see.  I say whatever thought drops into my head in the moment, without censoring. I was born without the censoring chip.

Well, here is the list so far:

1. Dye blonde hair dark, people will assume I’m an intellectual.

2. Glasses?

3. Wear black more often, ditch the pink stuff.  Fortunately, I have a sleek looking black dress for the launch, although that leads me to number 4…

4. Observe a strict two glass limit on champagne in order to lessen blurting tendency. [I’m quite likely to blurt out things like, I love you, I don’t want to, Let’s go for it, That looks horrible etc. These are the mild ones.]

5. Do not engage in political conversations with anyone, ever, because this is an area where I can really show my ignorance. Stick to the weather.

6. Do not do a book reading when nervous, because nerves can make me dyslexic.

It’s not an inspiring list. I don’t feel like doing a happy dance when I read it. Although, it will probably keep me out of trouble. It’s what a lot of authors are, naturally, without trying.

Let’s see how I go.


Filed under authors, blogging, book launch, books, champagne, editors, fiction, launches, life, philosophy, Reading, reviews, weird stuff, Writing

Cosmic stuff

This is a post I will trash tomorrow; I’m pretty certain of it. And I’ll probably write a new post entitled, “Never drink red wine and blog”, as soon as I sit down in front of the computer in the morning, with a slight headache.  But until then I must express something.

We are more than our bodies, our minds, and our beliefs. We are more than the car we drive, the house we live in, the relationships that cause us so much anguish and joy.

We are, at our core, just energy; little bits of light and sound and swirly stuff. Cosmic stuff.

Anyone reading this might think, big deal lady, what’s this got to do with anything?

Good question. The answer is nothing. It has nothing to do with anything.

Just needed to write it down.

Just needed to state it for the record. Don’t be fooled into thinking you’re that suit, that job, that car, even that body. You’re not anything your eyes can see.

You are more.


Filed under blogging, books, editors, fiction, philosophy, red wine, romance, weird stuff, Writing

And yet wild abandon is so much fun

Yesterday, I thought a lot about restraint . The word conjures up images of safety (a vicious dog held fast on a strong lead).  And control (the two drink limit, refusing the last piece of chocolate cake), and also a masterful channeling of energy.

In music (sorry to always return to music), a single phrase can be carried by strong energy not expressed. Does that make sense?  If one uses everything up in the expressing of a phrase of music, or a line of writing (a frequent comment to new writers is that their work is “overwritten”) then it can sound, or read, weak because all of the energy has been expended in one rush.

In the days when I still played music, on exquisitely rare occasions, I would get a sense of sitting on top of the most immense power or force.  I no longer had a body or mind.  For a moment, I would dissolve into the sound. The line of music, or the aria would be invariably be simple, but so immense in what was left unexpressed.  Great music (of all kinds, not just classical) seems to generate this power.  Watching a brilliant movie, standing in front of an amazing piece of art, staring into the eyes of someone you love, or reading a great book can also help dissolve the body into another world.

And that surrendering of our bodies, is surely part of wild abandon.

Let’s face it, it’s fun to give up control.  In all art forms, wildness is exciting. I like to imagine the creative force as something a little wild and difficult to control, and flighty, and whose trust we must earn.

We walk a line between the two, don’t we?  Some of us leaning towards the restraint side of the divide, others dancing on the wild side. I like to jump from one to the other personally.  There’s joy in both.

Which side has your vote? Restraint?  Or wild abandon?


Filed under authors, books, editors, fiction, Reading, romance, Uncategorized, Writing