Book 1 2019

Since it is the new year I am going to start it off with a book I finished some time before Christmas. It is a well received book, and after it released its own film its popularity only grew.

The book is called ‘Crazy Rich Asians’ by Kevin Kwan.

I enjoyed reading this book, although most… or maybe even only half the time I wanted to physically kill a couple of characters.

I picked up this book on the basis of the film, or at the time the upcoming film. I had seen the trailer and it intrigued me. I like romances, I am a love story nut, if you give me a really poor story but it has a great romance in the middle I may forgive it. So, I ordered the series from Waterstones. I weirdly was not disappointed by it.

There was a false love affair. There were intricate old family feuds that are more lethal than grudges. And there is a clear divide between older and younger generations. And there is also an unnerving divide between poor, rich, and uncanny rich.

As for romance, the main characters; Rachel and Nick are already established as a couple. The love already ignited. So in the beginning that is pretty basic they are travelling together to meet his family. Actually the biggest interest I found was with the side character. Nick’s cousin Astrid. She is a cool, sophisticated, and mature woman. Which only changes once at the end of the book. But her turmoil strikes early on, and we live through her struggles with how to cope with her current situation.

A compliment to Keven Kwan – He can create dislikeable characters.

Nick’s mother and her little entourage are just horrible people that don’t deserve the wealth they have. The luxury lives they were born into apparently gives them rights to look down on people who have worked their whole lives for the simpler luxuries in their own lives.

Some of the children of these stuck up snobs were literally like pretentious spoiled toddlers. They would skit each other, behind their backs, then were the best of friends. They would purposely manipulate others to get their own way.

But only some.

Nick was painfully naïve. Almost completely oblivious. But he does step up when things go sour.

The author did something I haven’t seen in other books. He would slip into another point of view constantly between paragraphs on the same page. He kept it clear so as a reader it remained clear as to who it was you slipped into the narrative of. But if you weren’t concentrating properly you would lose focus and get confused. So, it would require you to focus on what is being said.

Overall, it was a good read, I enjoyed it. And just as a little spoiler, the mean ones do get their comeuppance in the end. Thankfully.


Writing Struggles.

Writer’s block? Cliché! Horrendous. Okay, I am going to start again.

I’ve got no ideas. I keep staring at the blank screen. WordPress has a new layout system that has a small greyed out sentence; Start writing or type / to choose a block.

And I just can’t think.

I’m being swallowed whole by a bank account that tells me time and time again “You have exceeded your overdraft”. Every job I search and look at my mind wonders through the shit pile that is self-esteem issues. I could try and write about something interesting. I mean look at every magazine that sits on shop shelves – Beauty, Beauty, wear this, look at this diet plan, I changed my life in so many days. Or – Sports.

It all just seems the same, articles on celebrities going through drama, drama, drama, drama. How they coped with it. How they aren’t coping with it. Articles on the best make-up that people can buy, or what this sport celebrity was doing, what new offence had they just been accused of committing.

What would catch your eye?

I’ve been watching a crappy film called That awkward moment thinking about all of this stuff. I want to write, I want to finish ONE project at least before I die. Well, no I have four projects of my own that I am working on. Trying to work through a chapter each per week. So far, that hasn’t worked. Christmas has rolled by, New year has just rolled by, and the pressure is just building up. Heavier, and heavier.

My current job … “job” … pays me for … the classes run. So, advertising unpaid. The extra material used to advertise unpaid. – The material – includes posters, policy information, timetable, pricelist, silhouettes in business theme colours. Administration unpaid. I also have to work with a woman I think secretly hates me. She isn’t brave enough to say it to me. But what? I work hard, I took initiative and learned how to do certain things.

Now this job that only pays for one aspect of the work put in is almost taking over my life. Training for myself as well as preparation for the classes. All the extra work, but I can’t live off nothing. My dogs can’t live off nothing. Which is why the pressure is just getting worse – My boyfriend wants to move house, the car is literally dying…

This morning/afternoon I woke up and searched on my phone for writing jobs for writing magazines. All of those jobs were in London. Why are they all in London? So, strike that one I just don’t want to move to London. So, I give up with that. Plus, my phone was on two percent when I started so it died before I could decide to give up.

It got me thinking though, all these magazines that sell beauty. What makes them different from each other? What makes you buy them? Because they say the same thing. You could look like this! BAM – celebrity – Bam – Model – BAM – Photoshopped queen that just isn’t real. What makes you read them? Do you read them? Or is it just the dream of being that photoshopped?

I’ve sort of fallen off topic.

But right now, I’m feeling stuck in a place.

It’s like I can’t think passed everything. And I always think that blogs are meant to be something informative – like advice from experience, or just emotional feel beautiful things. Do they have to be? I have been using it as a place for poetry, a random phone story that isn’t finished. Maybe that is all this will be for. No more extra bits on anything. I may put a few short stories on here, but… I think that will be all this is for.

No more extra work for nothing. Writing struggles over.

Writing thoughts.

I have read many posts about writers tips. Professional writers advice that could be in themselves books long. Most of them say the same thing. Keep a writers journal. Make sure you think about this, and think about that. Or if you have writers block step away from the project and come back to it later? Never delete your previous copies. All that sort of thing.

I’m not going to write any tips I think could work.

Instead, I am thinking about what I come across when I am writing. Some of you may find these things happen to you, if this is helpful then great. If not, then I’m sorry I’m not a writing guru. I wouldn’t even say I’m that good. I just enjoy doing it.

My writing when I start is never really planned. I normal begin with a concept in my head. An image that I think about in my head. Normally that image may not have a beginning, or may not have an end. There may even not be a middle. But I normally start with an idea that can just spark.

But this idea normally leaves me with an ache. I crave to start it like a bad craving for a chocolate bar. It doesn’t leave me lying awake at night however, and no it doesn’t wake me up in the middle of the night either. But I find myself impatient throughout the day.

All I wanted to do is write this piece. Even if I look at my other projects that are unfinished I just want to start this one idea. Even if it is just a first sentence. Once that first sentence is down the ache in me dies. The idea is still exciting but the urge to write it is not so urgent.

Of course, sometimes self-discipline means that focus should remain on one single project until they are finished. However, once that ache sets in I can’t focus myself on other projects. The right words just don’t come out, and the words that do are clunky. Unnatural.

Once I have started that project, I can put that on hold until I finish the other projects. So, this isn’t how people would recommend writing but it works out alright for me.

This is something that I find when I start a project. If anyone else does I’d be intrigued to find out what any of you think.

Xperia 7.3

Like two carefree teens they snuck back inside from the balcony. Both their lips swollen from the long spells of kissing. They didn’t speak a word to each other. They didn’t have to.
They crept through the corridors, Arellia slipping out of her shoes and padding around barefoot. They had managed to avoid detection all the way up to her main chamber. Which had her fighting a giggle as she locked the door.
Giddiness overwhelmed them. Cheeks aching from smiles that had spread so wide and were automatic when they imagined what would happen next.
Alasdair sat patiently on the edge of her bed. He had removed his extras – sword, belts, boots, and any other layers – a white loose shirt hung from his squared shoulders, untucked at his waist band.
Arellia could see him admiring her while she was still at the door. She thought about the dress she was wearing. It was beautiful. And looked beautiful on her… Would he rip it? Or could she be unabashed enough to strip gradually as she slowly moved towards him? Her thoughts then panicked to the image of her body and she hesitated. He was so handsome…
“Don’t do that”, his voice was low, rough even. But the words were not harsh. She didn’t feel scolded – just obvious. He got up from his place and without a moments thought he approached, wrapped her arms around his neck, then scooped her up. He wrapped each leg around each side of his waist. His hands moving to cup her arse. He carried her to the bed.

Xperia 7.2

A week after the hospital, Arellia watched Alisdair leave the hospital and not come back. In that week she had commissioned Jeremy to raise an army, and builders to re-enforce the wall.
The threat they had thought was gone, was thriving beyond the borders. She couldn’t risk not being prepared if the crevice closed. Or… If they could fly. She stepped out onto one of the balconies of her home and looked out at the sky.
“Please, do not have creatures that can fly…”.
The glass doors opened behind her and Alisdair walked in. He closed the doors behind him then turned to her.
With a deep breath he stomped his way towards her. She opened her mouth to speak. What did he want? She didn’t have to wonder long. He lifted his hands, cupped her face, and crushed his lips to hers.
The force of his approached pushed their bodies into the balcony railing. Arellia felt her whole world spin. Heat surged through her body until everything seemed to tingle.
He pulled away from her and every cell in her being craved for him to return. Her hands travelled up between his elbows, snatched at his clothes around his chest and pulled him into her.
Their hungry kiss synced, they found each others’ balance, their arms wrapped around one another until they were as close as they could physically get.
They finally paused. Their breathing laboured. Their eyes locked. Arellia watched him scrunch his eyes closed. He pressed his forehead against hers and with a deep breath.
“I love you”, his words stopped her breath. He bit his lip then looked into her eyes like he was frightened. Before she could catch her breath he added. “You were never just a job, she was just a friend”.
“I love you too”, her voice was breathy and it made him smile. The doors behind him rattled. Then someone knocked.
“Your highness, Jeremy is here to see you”, it was Cora.
“He can wait”, she called over Alasdair’s shoulder. He laughed and they kissed again. Enjoying the moment.