Friday 25 September 2015

Retracing the Last Twelve Months



Someone might have flipped a switch in my mind because I’m scratching my head trying to retrace the past twelve months and wondering where they might have gone.

Let’s see….oh yes, twelve months today, I was standing in the big apple, New York City, still feeling pretty pleased with myself after not falling overboard in Central Park’s lake and being weighed down by the engagement ring burning a hole in my pocket. I don’t even what I (spl) uttered that day when I got down on one knee in the rowboat to convince my partner of the past decade to stick with me for a few more. I don’t think she knows either. The Tiffany box drowned out all common sense and all she probably heard was her mind screaming ‘Gimmie Gimmie Gimmie’.


I’m a fan of the fairy-tales and a rowboat in central park gliding across the green lake on a clear blue sky day certainly seemed the setting of one. I had a lot of inspiring moments on that trip and I’m a sucker for sunrises and sunsets and to walk across Brooklyn Bridge as the sun was setting capped off our magical day.

 
The ten days that followed were an emotional whirlwind, which seemed to pick us up to raise us high and toy with us. Siobhan had just started a new job; we were engaged; an agent let me know of The Reaper’s strong potential but the monumental work that would have to be done to reach it; and we learned Siobhan’s beloved father, Jimmy, had been diagnosed with terminal cancer and only had three months left to live.


That was the deflating moment we were dropped by the whirlwind and were brought crashing back down to the numbing ground gasping. It was a very bleak winter with Jimmy sadly leaving us in January. He's very much missed. It wasn’t until we went to Barcelona & Madrid for our birthdays in April did we start to shed part of the gloom that had engulfed us. We made so many memories that trip and I got to say goodbye to the last of my twenties on Barcelona’s 4km long beach taking in a glorious sunrise that set fire to the sky. I couldn’t imagine a more befitting way for me to do it. Inspired by our trip, we returned to one of our favourite cities quickly after and spent a blurry week consuming indulgent food and fine wine in Paris.

 
With the rewrite of the manuscript on the verge of completion, a chance opportunity at Dublin’s Writing Seminar led me to getting my opening three chapters critiqued by an agent over the course of a month. She, without question, brought me to another level of writing based on those three chapters alone and I went about rewriting every single word of that manuscript (again) based on what I had learned. I shut out the world, put the headphones on and Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran on repeat – don't judge, those inspiring stars know how to capture emotion and dream. Oh, and I can't forget Les Brown. In those moments of doubt his wisdom is a reminder that failure and dedication are just the paving stones to success.

After spending four months constantly rewriting I emerged from my mental cave like a starving bear from hibernation to see the world afresh and now the full manuscript lies in the hands of a few interested agents. I’ve been promised nothing, it was up to me to get the work up to the level required, but I get to leave The Reaper behind for a while. I’ve re-joined the land of those who actually communicate with one another with spoken words, which typically composes of ‘blah blah, blah, blah blah, and blah’ - sorry, I'm still working on my inner translations. I've got the glazed over face and a timely nod down but I'm retraining my muscles so I can muster up the accustomed smile expected.

Tomorrow we travel to Florence on a quest to determine our wedding venue…or something like that. I've been given the general gist but I don’t know, I have a habit of tuning out when such conversations arise (a practiced skill) and then asking something irritating later like – ‘when’s the date again?’. All I know for certain is we're going to Italy......yes, Italy.

I’m hoping there to discover some more inspiring moments.


Wednesday 16 September 2015

Grandad's Island - Book Review





Benji Davies
Grandad’s Island
Simon and Schuster, 2015
Paperback
28pp £6.99 ISBN 978-1-4711-1995-8

We’re not going to be able to be there forever for our loved ones. It’s an inevitable fact of life that at some point someone we care for will leave us and it can be hard to understand for those just starting their own journey.

Grandad’s Island is a short but touching story about Syd and his beloved Grandad. His Grandad has always been available and to see him, all Syd had do to was travel to the bottom of his garden, though the gate and past the tree to get to Grandad’s house. Except on this everyday visit, Grandad takes Syd on a not so everyday imaginative adventure to a secret island full of wonders. So wonderful, that Grandad decides to stay.

Written by Benji Davies, creator of The Storm Whale, Grandad’s Island is a tender children’s book that helps parents explain to their children that even though we can’t always see those who are dear to us, they remain part of us by living in wondrous memories.
Children 4-6