Category Archives: goals

becoming stupid

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Woman wearing virtual reality headset

there was a time when i would sit down and read reels of pages of books for hours. if i had a day free i would happily lounge on a sofa devouring the page, ignoring the need of refreshment and bodily function. just one more page. just one more page. just to the end of this chapter. and so on.

nowadays it is very much different. i find myself after a long paragraph of text becoming distracted. i will switch to a quick fix of insta or blusky. check the posts on facebook. watch a vid on tiktok. then back to the book. back to the beginning of the paragraph as i have forgotten what it is about. the concentration broken. memory porridge. when did i get so stupid and what caused it?

i guess the growth of social media did not help. clever apps whose algorithms are designed to keep you scrolling and flicking on to the next thing. how many of us have discovered a quick browse on an app has somehow turned into an hour or two? the time somehow swallowed by the inane chatter of nothing. there must be an impact on our concentration spans. school teachers know it. we are consuming text in bites. long form has gone.

and now we have ai. we no longer have to read the article or book or page. we can get ai to summarise it for us in a couple of sentences. what need us to actually read the thing? the days of the victorian novel with sprawling descriptive paragraphs of prose are gone. we are the sound bite nation.

but are we all to blame for this change? in a culture that is forever demanding information to be processed quicker to arrive at conclusions faster because time is poor and precious, is it really our fault we have altered to comply with this demand? particularly when the world of work demands more for the money and many are holding down more than one job. do we have the time to spend on reading great wads of text and do we feel so inclined, after a day of work fixated to a screen of words, to spend an evening doing a low tech version of the same?

personally i’m trying to buck the trend i have found myself in. it seems to me as a writer and bookseller. surely i should recognise the importance of the written page and should not be helping the reliance on short cuts that may lead to a devaluing of my own written work. so i am going to turn off the social media apps in the evenings. embrace the written page. small steps at first but i will do it. i have set myself the target of finishing a monster of a book. to make it even more challenging it doesn’t have chapter breaks. just page after page of text. im starting small. twenty minute reads then a brief break. but the break is not to be on the mobile phone.

i may take this deepening of concentration further. move to long form visual imagery. tv watching reduced. channel hopping stopped. instead embracing the world of the film. long form is now key. fast food a thing of the past. seven course banquets instead. a stop for afternoon tea. when my family tell me to hurry up when we’re out i will instead take my time and stroll. pigeon steps.

expect to see me soon on a corner frozen in step reading war and peace.



new year new goals

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Green and yellow fireworks display

so we are into 2026 and i suppose it is the time of year to make resolutions and set goals for yourself. to be honest last year wasn’t as good as i hoped. i didn’t achieve many of the things i set out to do. motivation was lacking a bit and i was finding it difficult to hit a consistent stride. it was all a bit stop start.

maybe it was partly down to not finding a satisfactory writing spot. i used to have a desk at home i could work at or preferably a local watering hole i would use. but the desk went and the watering hole changed. it no longer does coffee. a key requirement in the process. it was either find a new place or start drinking booze in the mornings.

i tried a few other places. but distance to some was an issue. others was interruptions. there just doesn’t seem to be anywhere local to me that fits the bill. im still searching but dont hold out much hope. and my requirements are not that difficult. a table and chair in a corner. coffee when i want it. i dont mind a bit of noise as i tend to wear headphones. and a power-point to charge from. you wouldn’t think it would be so difficult.

anyway. what didn’t i achieve last year:
1) completing WIP final draft and begin submitting;
2) complete editing poetry collection;
3) submit shorts & poetry to periodicals:
4) regularly post on blog and insta account

what i achieved:
1) completed first draft of wip-FR and sent out to BETA readers
2) submitted a short to an anthology
3) arranged a secret project
4) begun new wip-EX
5) reading more material

this year i intend to knuckle down and graft at my writing. make it more a priority. try to remain motivated and less distracted. so the goals are:
1) complete final draft of wip-FR and submit
2) complete edit of poetry
3) continue to work on wip-EX
4) find a new writing spot

i think 4 goals is realistic especially as some are big and time consuming. particularly number one and two as i loathe editing. its the part of the writing process i really dont enjoy. some writers love it. i just find it frustrating. i’ve tried to now put systems in place to make it easier but it is difficult. maybe i just a bit too close to the work and not distant enough to be ruthless. to wield my pen like a scalpel.

well, here’s to a new year of writing. go 2026.

moment 19

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he rode at the back. wheels turning like a ‘45. three gears weren’t enough. the heavy frame of the Chopper didn’t help either. yellow with long slung handlebars and a seat two could fit. he would collect his sister from brownies. her sat behind him as he peddled home. complaints of silver cleaning. there was that one time they had got stopped by the police for riding on the pavement. and for her sat like that. they had got off and walked until the police car was out of sight. then they had enjoyed the speed of the hill. the air through the air. the thrill of doing something risky. the blur of the hedges of houses. the slow stop at the bottom on worn brakes. but now he rode at the back. his friends ahead up the curving hill. cursing the bike as the distance grew. they laughed ahead with calls and the joy of being on an adventure. he wanted to be home. to rest his legs. he wanted a bike like theirs. 10 speed racer with thumb wide frame. large wheels to reduce the need for peddling. he glanced up at the trees that curved down over the road that let in a pattern of light. hints of another world on the road. one of shapes that flicker or gently sway with an occasional dart of black birds. as he reached the big bend, ian was waiting for him. they both gave a knowing smile of best friends and continued together. ian in front, him struggling behind. just as he thought they would be cycling to the heavens, they met the others in a break in the line of trees. a narrow track led into a wood, the path muddy with pools of water. mirrors of a dark canopy. they bumped along.  surrounded by the tall netherworld of tree trunks.  pine leaf forest of brown and silence. that felt as if they had left the world behind. the world of terraced houses, back garden borders, and too interested neighbours. a world of cars, people and school work. but now they were the four outside the realms of people. the four knights on their stallions, although his was a nag, entering the world of fairies and maidens. until they met a fence. a new wooden fence with a gate. they pushed it open, undeterred and rode on the trail. banks of mud now rearing on either side, topped with small trees and bushes. a turn to the right and they were there. almost hidden but if you knew the secret you could find it. the lake. the lake older than the lady rising with a sword. the lake still with secrets and deep depths. they left their steeds.  and sat by the water’s edge. pulling out sandwiches covered in silver foil from their jackets. too happy to say anything. they had reached the fabled prize and were receiving their reward.

moment 16

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rumble strewn ground. sounds of mortar in the distance. shells stood where homes once were. the carcass of a tank stood in the road surrounded by the fallen. blood patterns on brick and littered bones. he hid behind a wall that once was a building. weren’t they meant to be winning? he remembered the time they had landed. the embrace of the sea. what a sea! he had never seen such blue. the sound of sand beneath boots. the arc of birds across a clear sky. they had marched through green. small villages with friendly locals. an offer of wine and a pat on the back. an easy time. they marched on. over poppy fields, polka dotted landscapes. bees led the way. then the sky darkened. rain began to fall. the sound of distant guns. experience told him they were close. they had entered foolishly. too in the open. he took the route behind rubble, close to the walls. he was no fool. the young fell. first to go was Ajay. three shots to the head and gone. he had liked him. but in war attachments were deadly. better to look after the self. the weapons lay beyond reach. next, was Will running for the tank. he had cried a warning but too late. landmined. a cloud of blood and bone. next Jacob, the leader, taking the high point in a tower with sniper rifle. but they were ready. a trip wire saw to him. so now all alone. crouching behind a wall. bullets hit brick nearby but not there. perhaps it was safe to look. just a second. he got himself ready. moved cautiously and peered around the corner. a crack of a gun. the last thing he saw were the words Squad Killed.

moment 14

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a room of grey and white walls littered with splodges of colour. different shaped but carefully placed. white chalk splashes on grey softened floor. and the silence of perspiration and concentration. a striped adventurer looks up, rubbing her hand. today blue. an arm stretches up, fingers feeling, testing for the right spot. experience says it can’t be done but that doesn’t deter. she is full of the optimism of this time. a right foot goes up, finds a place, then a push. the other arm stretches, feeling the path, over the holes and bumps until it reaches blue. fingers clasp the hold, left foot, push. a disadvantaged spider clinging to a wall. right hand up. up. come on. just. too. far. a slip. a fall. a soft landing. a smile.

Writing Goals for 2019

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So it is a new year and with every new year it is time to set some writing goals for the next 12 months (their like resolutions for writers). So here are mine.

  1. Finish submitting elf book to literary agents. It would be easy for me to let this aspect of writing to slip. I’ve had positive responses but need to follow up and send some more out. It is the process I find most frustrating as it takes so much time to get a response and I want to be pushing forward. A year can go by easily as you wait for replies from agents. And some don’t even use email!
  2. Complete work in progress and a rewrite. This is currently going a bit slow for me. It is mainly due to me: I’m writing out of my comfort zone; I have the most characters I’ve ever dealt with; I’m dealing with a multi-layered plot. This one is hard.
  3. Write lesson plans to go with Wishbone Billy. This is an. idea I’ve had for a while. I have a background of working in schools and I’m sure teachers would be grateful of any materials to make their planning easier. This would also tie in nicely with me offering free school visits.
  4. Complete exciting school visits and visit to Cub Scout group. I have again been invited to schools for World Book Day  this year and also a local Cub Scout group to help them with their book badge. I always love meeting readers and writers, and discussing what excites them. I want to do more!
  5. Not to worry if I don’t complete my goals. Writing books and everything that goes with writing can easily lead you to be overly worried, especially when things are not going well. Writing should be fun and you should not worry if you don’t do everything you set out to do. Keep your cool, take a breath and be happy with what you do get done.

Well, those are my goals for the year. I think they are quite challenging as I can easily get distracted at times from the task in hand. But this year, I’m going to be a new me. (so I lie to myself).