Tag Archives: abuse

Lessons from life

Things I learned from life

How to sing from my grandma and where I want to be

How to dodge a face slap when someone takes aim at me

When to talk and when to run, knowing who is a foe and who is a chum?

Where to hide and where to play

How to laugh and what to say

Where to find peace and where to write

What to do to avoid a fight

How to smile when I hurt and hold my tongue about the jerk

How to pull a punch and line, so folk don’t go down in crime

When to make a stand at all and how not to become a fool

Where to go so that I can shine and how I found God divine

When to love and how not to hate

I won’t forget my past mistakes!

A task set by the book “how to grow your own poem” by Kate Clanchy, learning I made a mistake with this poem that I fell back into rhyming, I should do another like this but remember not to rhyme.  The subject should be about your life and the things you’ve learned, where and how and all of that and maybe even about where you see your life is going?

Happy reading!

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Social confusion

A fundamental thing that nobody understands about someone who has been raised in isolation, especially someone like me who didn’t get away from all that until the age of twenty seven is this;

They don’t grasp how difficult it is to understand social cues.

They haven’t experienced being socially isolated to the extent you have no idea about what is socially acceptable, except for the things that they have learned from their oppressors.

That although you have been socially isolated and talk sometimes online to people, you are still clueless about how to interact with people, even there!

You still have your oppressors telling you that emailing a person more than once a week will make you come across as sad and needy, or that they may misread your intentions as flirtation if you talk to them too much!

Though I understand in part that this is untrue, I still haven’t the foggiest about just how much contact with people is acceptable – especially people I hardly know. 

That someone like me is likely to make a lot of major social fuck ups, because she hasn’t learned what is normal to society as a whole, not even online.

So, when I slip up, I expect someone to be open with me about how I have made them feel and guide me – not just walk out of my life because I am strange or I am aloof, I seem disinterested, because that isn’t true at all. 

I remember a time I met my adult nephew in-law for the fourth time ever in his life, he decided to hug me goodbye but I learned that the hug was uncomfortably long and made everyone feel weird.  These simple gestures, I am clueless about!

I believe I have said it before on this blog, that I am really a baby to society and it’s true – though I am forty next month, I still haven’t learned the social basics.  I had just three years’ experience of true social freedom before I became bedbound sick for nine years – I am starting from scratch again now that some of my health is stabilising and it’s scary.  Because nobody understands a woman of forty who has never socialised enough to know what she is doing!

Believe me when I say I read about twelve books at a time, not at the same time, but around the same time, if you get me?  I read a book to ten to thirty pages, then I put it down and pick up another – a majority of these books are self-help books, books about society and culture, body language and how to have conversations with people.

I have learned how to ask open ended questions, either the books are full of shit or the people I have met are more socially awkward than I am, because they just answer with a blunt endings and scoot away a bit from me.

Maybe it’s the type of questions I ask?  I don’t know! 

But I don’t see how talking about the artwork someone is looking at or generally talking about the school (if collecting my child from it) can cause a reaction where someone would scoot away.  It’s not like I am asking “who are you and where do you live”?  So it’s puzzling to me.

I generally wait until people approach me these days, because I am new to all of this.

I am way too open about myself to almost everyone, because I am not ashamed of who I am and I have nothing to hide, but apparently that makes people uncomfortable.  It’s like I can’t win.

But then again, when I don’t talk much, I get the same reaction, again can’t win! 

I genuinely want to know how a person feels, not how tired they are or what the state of their health is like, I want to know if they are happy and comfortable.  I want to know how they feel about the artwork they are looking at, what they really do think about the school that their children go to and just generally ask where locally is best to take the children, maybe there is something I haven’t heard of nearby?  Why do I get the cold shoulder… is it me or is it them?

I reckon it’s me; it has to be me, because I was the one in social isolation for twenty seven years and rose by a narcissistic and a verbally abusive mother.  They have friends around them sometimes, I don’t – so it’s not like they are truly socially awkward, like me.

I bought this up because there are friends online or rather online acquaintances that would be nice to become friends with, however, they talk a lot for an hour or so, then they either never contact me again or it’s a couple of months between.  It’s odd to me.  I’d have imagined once a week a little line, but not regular every day contact.  But sometimes, they decide never to talk again and I can’t help but wonder did I get too personal with them?

I sit back and think; maybe they can’t cope with my changes?  Maybe talking so positively and confidently about myself one day and then the next day being a little anxious about things is something that everyone experiences – but for me, it seems to lose friends at a rapid rate.  I can’t be positive and confident all of the time, I am only human.

I noticed I get more followers when I am confident and no sooner had I had a post where I am anxious I have lost half a dozen or so.

I am not a robot.

I am a person.

Everyone has those days.

I can’t feed other people’s egos all the time, because I have off days too!

If you expect that, then, maybe you have social issues too?

But right now I am in a state of perplexity and this is why I have become relatively quiet on twitter lately.

If I am not being contacted by depressives who are using me as a therapist in DMs, I am being contacted by scammers pretending to celebrities I follow in their little private account messages.

Thing is, one thing that seems to set me apart from the average person in society is that I can smell a scam and a liar a mile off, because my family aren’t entirely honest folk and I know the tricks people play, because as I was growing up my family sort of prepared me in the form of little games and tricks the family did to each other, to keep our minds sharp about society in general. 

I am not very trusting, but when I have been raised in a situation like that, you can understand it!  I’ve had relatives do the nastiest social tricks on me over the years, as what they believe is training, that I never get my hopes up about anything anymore.  I had the joy of life sucked out of me at a very young age, I can’t trust and I can’t feel excited about anything, because I have been trained that it is usually a ruse or that things are easily cancelled.

So there is no point being excited about anything.

There is more than just socialising I have to learn in my life, so much is ingrained though.

My son and Paul gets excited about things and I just sit there, pan faced and nod and say things like “well it would be nice if it were to happen, wouldn’t it”?  They rightfully ask me if I am excited too?  Me being blunt and honest as I am would reply “Yes, I’d like it to happen, but I am not too excited, because you never know…” I am sorry I just can’t help it!

I am not a kill joy really, but there are times when I am cautious about good things that when they are actually in process I am anxious, waiting for people to jump out at me and laugh at me for being such a sad bitch who thought it was all going to be perfect etc.  It’s happened before, its happened a lot!  I find happiness difficult, because there is always someone out to ruin it or make it false, if you understand that?

So, I am a boring person upon reflection.  I don’t like surprises because in the past I have learned that anything with surprise in it is generally going to be unpleasant and humiliating.

Well, that’s all I have to say on the matter, because this post is getting too long.  But I hope you are all starting to get a clearer picture of who I am and why I am this way!

Happy reading! 

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Songs that seem written for me

Ten songs that match my personality or feel like they were written by someone who knows me and below them explanations of why I think this, also a huge insight to me as a person! 

  1. The lady is a tramp especially the Lady Gaga and Tony Bennet version!
  2. Pain by Three days grace
  3. It can’t rain all the time by Jane Siberry
  4. Crush Em by Megadeath
  5. Champion by Three days grace
  6. Smile by Nat King Cole
  7. Dollhouse by Melanie Martinez
  8. Rose Garden by Lynn Anderson
  9. Touch-a-touch-a-touch me from Rocky Horror Picture Show
  10. Cry little sister by Gerard McMahon

The Lady is a tramp;

This song connects well to me because I will eat a couple of hours before a meal out, as I can never guarantee whether or not the meal will be enough… you know nouveau cuisine and all that – if I am hungry, I hate waiting around for food!  So to be polite, I tend to eat a little before I go anywhere! 

I won’t ever wear real fur, I hate the cruelty of it, though it’s pretty I tend to wear faux versions a lot and have a lot of faux blankets around the house.  Though I happen to like pearls, so that part doesn’t connect! 

One thing I can’t stand is gossiping with other women, it’s not my thing, hence why most of my friends tend to be men.

I don’t really like to make myself up too much to impress others if that means I have to be uncomfortable, but I do like to look impressive generally.  Clothing must always be comfortable or else I would rather go naked and being someone who isn’t an exhibitionist, that’s something I won’t do!

I like being fashionable though and I do like showing off a bit, I am a bit of a peacock – I think this is why I love Lady Gaga, I see a lot of me in her!

Pain by three days grace;

There was a time that I became afraid that I would never feel again.  My post-traumatic stress syndrome got so bad I became what they call Non-comprimentos, I don’t know if I spelled that right I tried to google it, but found nothing.  I wouldn’t speak and hardly ate for nearly a year, I became numb to everything.  Conscious, unlike people think I was, but numb.  I didn’t want to react, I didn’t want to speak, I didn’t feel a thing.  It’s a scary place, it’s like I gave up and didn’t die, but I was supposed to, if that makes sense?

It took a long while for me to get out of being such a poker face, so pan faced and unemotional, a very long while.  I wouldn’t smile for nearly four years and when I did smile it was at the irony that people were trying to save my life (due to mastoid infection) and all I really wanted to do was die; but I smiled because of the darkness of it all.

What happened?

I was a huge wrestling fan; in particular I loved The Undertaker.  I was afraid of becoming brain damaged due to the surgery and my mother came into the operating theatre to help settle me down for the injection which would put me to sleep – her comforting words came out without realising what she had said until she saw the horror on the anaesthetists face.  “Don’t worry, just think about The Undertaker” she said, smiling down at me.

I didn’t just smile for the first time in years; I full out laughed and then had to explain to the nurses around me that my mother isn’t mental, it’s my favorite wrestler!

But after that time, I did decide that if things hurt me, I’d rather feel it than be numb.  Strange I know, but if you have been there yourselves, you’d understand the loss and the loneliness of it all.

I soon developed into transferring that to physical pain rather than emotional after a while and entered the dark phases of self-harming, it helped me to cope and though the scars I have are bad, they make me feel like a warrior.

It can’t rain all the time;

That’s kind of my motto nowadays; there is always sunshine through the rain or after it, though the bursts of sunshine in my life are usually short, it’s best not to take them for granted and to recognise them when they are around.  It’s easy to forget the light side of life to the extent it becomes alien at times and you can often miss them!

Crush Em;

At times I feel like life is a war, you have to fight for who you are and what you stand for, because so many people want to change you or destroy you.

I used to submit a lot, but as I grew and suffered so much, I decided that if I am going to suffer, I am going to suffer in order to stay true to myself because living a lie hurts me more than I can bear!

I was suffering either way, really.  So it’s best to suffer to your own painful tune than somebody else’s.

I’ve had so much of other people thinking that other people’s lives are their business, their personality, likes and dislikes have to be critique within an inch of their lives to the extent I’ve had enough! 

I say and do what I want, but I am always ready to roll my sleeves up and start to fight and often times that leads me to gas lighting the other person, because I am not determined to just say my piece, I am determined that they can absolutely be themselves and they can absolutely hate me for being myself – but they absolutely cannot try to change me and I absolutely cannot try to change them, only enlighten them to the fact that all forms of hate is evil! 

My intention when I am in an argument is to shed light on the fact that it is ok to love and hate, as long as you accept each other’s differences and learn to live in peace.  If the other person isn’t being peaceful and won’t leave me alone after I suggest we agree to disagree, then they have to be prepared that I will defend myself anyway possible and that it could lead to problems.

Champion;

I have fought so hard to be where I am and who I am I have been dragged up and beaten up and bruised and battered in so many ways, not just physically – it is hard not to become something formidable after it all.

I have learned that the harshest of words and the hardest of beatings can make you stronger and in doing so, it can make a person become so strong that they develop into something that their haters and abusers can no longer fight – a true champion!

When a person tries to destroy another, it makes them feel strong when in fact they are weak.  Some people allow themselves to be destroyed, others learn to get back up and fight and I am one of the fighters.  Very little can intimidate me these days and I do not shy from throwing myself in front of others weaker than me, to take the hits!

Because I know I can cope and I can see that the world is full of weakness and it needs a champion sometimes!

I have a deep fire in me to teach the world, but also shield the weak from it.

I have even learned not to hide my tears anymore, I am no longer ashamed of them – though people may read that as a sign of a broken weak person, for me, it’s a sign that they’ve hit a nerve and with love I will show them what they’re doing, but carry on, I may feel pressured to fuel my fire.  I never say things lightly and I am a compassionate teacher, who gives other people time to think before I react!

But as they say, you can’t always help the stubborn.

Smile;

It took me a long while to get my emotions back; it took even longer for me to learn to put a mask on my face for the sake of the others who are much weaker or disadvantaged than me. 

I learned that the world definitely needs a champion, it needs compassion and love and tenderness and I leaned that it starts with me, my actions, my love, my care; yes don’t take on other people’s problems for your own, because it won’t help them in the long run, but you can hold their hand and give kind words to make them feel a little stronger in their battles.

It starts with a smile, then listening, then trying to understand and then holding their hands whilst championing them along the way, but never, ever let their battles become your own.  Stand back and let them do it for themselves, whilst quietly nodding and smile, you’ve done it little champ!

When I laugh at some people who try to do me down, it’s not mockery, its irony.  They are trying to be strong by showing the biggest weakness they have.  But I am delicate, I don’t laugh in their face, that’s not compassionate, my laugh is a smile and a small ha, I try to be amicable amongst the discord.

Dollhouse;

I really resonate with this lyrical line “I see things that nobody else sees”, for two reasons, one is that I am clairvoyant and clairsentient, the other is that I have seen the true faces of various people behind closed doors and I know the truth about a lot of things – many things, big, but they will never be exposed.

My life is like the twilight zone at times, but enough of that.

I often felt played like a doll in the past by other people who were always changing my shape and my form and personality to suit them and they isolated me in a little house most of the time.

A particular person in my life played me like a doll so much that it was almost like I was her ventriloquist dummy and her hand was up my arse even controlling what I said.  I didn’t realise until I went to a psychologist in 2012 that she used a lot of NLP against me, with little subtleties that made me behave a certain way – they made references to the Pavlov experiments in how she raised me.   If you are not familiar with these experiments here is a link. https://www.simplypsychology.org/pavlov.html

Like most paradoxes in my life, it is the very thing that hurt me to begin with that is helping me to heal.

Rose Garden;

I could never get over the fact that people want to be in relationships with people who accept their baggage and everything is going to be perfect, when the going gets tough, they leave each other!  I never understood this.

Love needs work and compassion, it’s not a given, you can’t just waltz into someone’s life and expect a picture perfect romance, because things like that may happen to some, but it never really lasts.  Love needs time and work. 

Most of my best relationships happened through friendship first and I know it sounds weird, but a long conversation over two or three picnics about what each other wants from life and each other and then almost like a handshake and business proposal we get together.

You have to lay your entire self on the table in front of them, reveal all; dark and light – then you make a decision on whether you are suited together or not.  Do you have the same life goals?  You see how many compromises you are willing to make with each other and if the BIG things don’t match, don’t go there, don’t choose them and start the process over again with someone else – life is too short to be unhappy with someone you live with!

When someone develops an issue with me it is usually because they were not honest in the conversations leading up to the relationship, because they wanted to tell me what I wanted to hear, rather than stay true to themselves!

You must never do this, because you can’t mould everyone!

So I always remind people, I am sorry but did I promise this to you initially?  It’s hard and I know I sound like a bitch, but I am only trying to save hearts from being broken in the long run, because I have a terrible guilt conscious.

You’d be surprised actually how many people hate people being so open like this.  But I feel it’s essential; you could be spending your life together some day – what have you got to hide?

I sound dominant but I really am not.  This is something that shocks people when they get to know what I want from life, because I seem so assertive off the bat – but that’s the point.  It’s to show each other your boundaries so you can live happily together.  I am not a huge feminist, I do believe women can save themselves and they can do many things, but I am super traditional and submissive in my best relationships that most feminists don’t find someone like me acceptable!

It’s a contrast I know, but as I said – it’s vital to be open with people.

Be strong enough to say “I need this, and I need that” and “don’t engage me with this, or that”, it’s important.

I welcome you to my garden, but I didn’t offer you constant sunshine, a perfect lawn and neat borders, I have brambles in there, some nettles for the playful butterflies and some beautiful thorny roses!

Touch-a-touch-a-touch me;

Self-explanatory really; I have been isolated most of my life that I get thrilled when people want to get close to me, even more so when touched.  I have been touch starved most of my life.  Though I can’t be called a slut as my life experience hasn’t reflected my inner most thoughts and feelings, I have the mind of one though.

I am not ashamed to admit it either.  I love being touched, I crave it, but I only desire it from certain people I feel are worthy!

This is not an invitation for anyone to come and touch me without asking first, but it is an invitation to ask if you could get close to me – I don’t mean to sound threatening but I will deck those who take advantage!

I am also very much proud to be considered a creature of the night, because my life has been filled with darkness and in darkness I found my strength, the light weakened me.  I am dark and to many people I resent to say, I am dirty – though I see it as cheekily playful and clean fun!  Dirty is a bad word when it is pertaining to fun pursuits and I don’t like hearing it!

To me the most sacred thing in life is sex, the meaning of life is sex and we should have more of it in our lives and we should spread the love ashamedly!

Cry little sister;

I have always wanted to spread love around the world and make it more acceptable and available to people I come across; I wish that the world was a more open place, a place where people are not afraid to be who they are and do what makes them happy without judgement.

I’ve always hated the lack of love in this world, particularly the kind where you can be free to touch the hand or a knee of a person in order to comfort them, without all this fear that surround’s physical contact with people.

I’ve never found it a healthy aspect of society, though I do appreciate the fact that it protects people from being touched by people they don’t invite into their lives.  I remember a time where I had to get the police involved because of a stalker who readily kept touching me up and I didn’t invite that.  But generally, when you know someone that is beyond a mere acquaintance, why is it still shunned?

I have seen pained expressions in male friends eyes when they see me crying and you know they want to put their arm around you and comfort you, but they are afraid of so many things if they do that.  Will I misinterpret this as a romantic interest?  Will his girlfriend misinterpret it as having an affair?  Will I take him to court for it?  So many things, so I sit there crying more or less alone, when all I want is the extra courage by having someone hold me tight; I wouldn’t care who it is, if they are nice and won’t take advantage of it further.  But most won’t even try.

A gentle touch can spark a healing energy and break the cycle of loneliness, breaking chains that bound us.

Happy reading all!

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My life in work

What work experience have I had?

I have been mostly unemployed in my adult life due to ill health, but I have worked in numerous organisations and I have a variety of skills that are not pertaining to creative pursuits.

I also want to clarify one essential thing here – I am not a drop out, because a drop out is someone who chooses to drop out of their own accord – I was pulled out and labelled a drop out by my family to other people.  But you must understand that my family were aggressive manipulators and I had to obey their wishes, because I was so sheltered I honestly thought, until I was twenty seven that a mother can’t be arrested for mental abuse, blackmail, brain washing and manipulation! 

My first ever unpaid job was a classroom assistant at an infant school in North London, I was there only for six weeks before the law changed that you had to have a minimal qualification in GNVQ level 1 or be a parent in order to continue working with children.  The head teacher was sorry to see me go, because she had also been my very first teacher when I was small.  She had intended to employ me after this work experience trial but due to law changes had to decline. 

I was in and out of school most of my childhood because my mother was inconsistent in maintaining my attendance score for scores of reasons!  The best score I ever had was 38% I had attended no less than fourteen individual schools between the age of five and fifteen and for as little as three days to eighteen months in attendance to them.  Most averaging three months, with long bouts of home education.

It really pained her to tell me I couldn’t stay in employment with her and was sure I’d go to university and become the primary school teacher I wanted to become.  My mother had different ideas.

You will find throughout my life until I broke off with my mother in 2012 that there were lots of different occupations I had trained for or endeavoured to have, but because she never approved of it, I never had a longstanding career in anything and lost many a job due to her behaviour.  But this is a post about my work life, not my obstacles pertaining to it!

My second ever occupation was working as an assistant at a hairdressing salon, for a family friend; because there was big issues and input in what I would and wouldn’t do according to my mum and my big brother, the idea of eventually becoming trained to work with this friend was ludicrous, because according to my brother only people who don’t have brains become hairdressers and I certainly have a brain he said and he intended that I use it!  Ouch, what a horrible comment to the beauty industry!  I know a lot of very clever and even academic ladies who are beauticians and hairdressers, it’s such a horrible stereotype what he said!

I only worked in the hairdressing salon for two months, because my brother hit the roof about it.

My third job was labelling glue bottles for my dad’s boss; it was a temporary job to get me over a summer break in college, where I was made to learn IT for two whole years, only for me to be pulled out in the last two months with no qualification! 

It wasn’t until I was twenty years old that I realised that my parents didn’t teach me that between jobs I could be getting money from the job centre and other disability benefits and I didn’t have a national insurance card until then either, because I wasn’t in education at the time either.  I had no idea that what my mother got me into was actually illegal, working without declaration and I was going to get into trouble for it!  When my mother let the cat out of the bag and explained what happened and how I genuinely was ignorant to what happened, things smoothed over – but mum had to fork the bill!

I have no idea to this day what the blazes happened in that office, other than I knew that if mum didn’t do whatever she did that day, we’d both have ended up in jail for fraud and I had no idea why and still don’t! 

My fourth job was working for my brother in his business as a receptionist for a few weeks before that fell flat due to his own customer service skills and lack of general dedication to the work!

My fifth job was working for MENCAP as a front desk receptionist and creative therapy assistant, my longest reigning job that lasted nearly two years, part time, three times a week for two hours in the morning; I absolutely loved that job but mum demanded more money from me and made me pull out of that for something that would financially improve her life!

My fifth job was working at The Camden Society, after being a client of the charity for eighteen months, because of severe PTSD affecting me finding work elsewhere, something horrible happened to me between these jobs.  This charity employed me themselves as a front desk receptionist for four months, before giving me a job as a key support worker for the charities café which is run by people with special needs.  I worked here for nine months in this role before being asked to leave due to financial cuts.

My sixth job was a two week wonder as a TESCO home shopper. 

My seventh job was for Christmas only at Marks and Spencer’s cashier.

My eighth job lasted two days due to interference from my mother – I became a fully trained health and safety officer and I couldn’t keep the job because my mother followed me to venues of observation and caused scenes.

My ninth job if I can call it that, was when I was trained to train security dogs and then get employed after the training, but after the training my mother made me give it up, because she didn’t want me bringing my work home with me!  Two German shepherd dogs twice a year, once trained I would lose them!   

My tenth job was a language support worker for Chinese children in a school in North London, I had this job only for two weeks, because I was uncomfortable with the boss and then my mother said something to him!

My eleventh job was a telephone tarot card reader, at home – the job lasted three days before I lost it due to complaints from the company I worked for that my mother could be heard at the other end of the phone berating my readings.

The last job I ever had was self-employed as an eBay seller, this stopped because my mother wouldn’t let me sell my things!

I gave up the last two years I lived with my mum and I let her control my life even more, because I just wanted to get on with my life and keep a job, so I left myself entirely in her hands!  I never had a job the whole time and I attended six different courses only completing two to certification and then I decided I had enough and left her.

I then became pregnant which held off employment because I wanted my son to be able to talk to me about what carers might have done to him before I got a job, by then, I had got too sick to work and lost further hearing in my left ear which makes telephone conversations impossible!  Along with this I also have splenomegaly and several auto-immune diseases, such as rheumatic arthritis, IBS, IBD, lupus, inner ear auto-immune disease and recently, doctors have me on a waiting list to confirm MS.

So there you have it, my life in work!

Thanks for reading!

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Books saved me from crime

I haven’t been raised to be who I am, I was raised to be something quite different and I fought against that system heartily because it felt wrong, corrupt and somewhat evil.

I read ferociously, reading was my weapons against self-destruction.

I am glad I took the quiet path and found solace within the pages of books – because the other path would have been a huge detriment to myself, my life, any offspring I had and perhaps a loss of art from my perspective – because the alternative path would have been a life of sordid means and running away from problems, skipping town to town to avoid being tracked by my past abusers and potentially I would have followed one of my older siblings into a life of crime.

Instead the path I took was a weird one, for the type of family I was raised in.

My mother often told me she was disappointed that I appeared to be some kind of flake, some kind of weird little creature who sat in dark corners reading books and seemed alien to what she said was a normal person’s idea of fun!

So what did my mother think was a normal person’s idea of fun?  Going out Friday and Saturday nights drinking themselves into a stupor with your friends, gorging on take aways and BBQs wherever possible and bothering the doctor about your strange back pain, without telling your doctor that you recently fell off a balcony with an 8ft drop because you were too drunk to realise what you were doing!  Oh but that’s not all, pick on the quietest person in your group and make them do things they’d never do without your cajoling and bullying – oh such fun!

Then on Sundays spend all day cleaning the house whilst worshipping God in the form of watching biblical movies in dead silence. 

If it wasn’t for books I would have successfully ran away by the age of fourteen, I knew at that age the only people who’d help me on the street were the bad kind and I was near enough prepared for it because I needed a way out.  I knew from past experiences of other women in my life that once you are in that kind of life, it is hard to get out of it, but I very nearly took that chance.  Thought that maybe I’d earn my way out, but you never do.  The big kick which knocked sense into me was that I had a cousin who had the same notion – only she had the guts to actually do it and came back home in tears, black and blue and with a new found drug addiction only a year older than me, she didn’t know, like I did back then, that it’s not only sex they get you into for money, but drugs too and in order to sell it, you have to take it yourself like a good sales person.

Fifteen years down the line, it killed my cousin. She was murdered when she was clean of drugs for nearly 2yrs as an effort to win her kids back from welfare and stumbled across her old dealer who was desperate for her to buy again! It could have been me, if I chose the same path.

Drugs was a big issue for me, because I saw the damage it did to several of our relatives growing up, drink and drugs are bad, very bad, it changes people heads, make them do stupid things and then they fall apart in tears because they genuinely didn’t meant to ram your head into the wall fifteen times, they were just stressed that’s all!  So I never wanted to experiment or be lead into it.  Several near misses though of people trying to sneak it into me, but I was paranoid around strangers and never accepted food or drink from anyone just in case!

No, after what happened to my cousin I decided to stay as the quiet one of the family, lock myself away in my room because if I didn’t, I’d usually end up the night’s entertainment!

They treated me like a circus freak, something to poke fun out of, to test, experiment with, to scare, to have a laugh with her, see what she’ll do next, like some kind of trained monkey or puppet.

Despite all of this, they still had the audacity to call themselves god fearing Christians!

If it weren’t for books, I wouldn’t have wanted to be a writer.  Because I thought movies were just movies, people playing pretend and they made something good together; it didn’t occur to me until I watched several Stephen King movies with my horror loving grandma that I kept seeing in the credits “written by Stephen King” over and over again in most of the movies I watched.  I knew when I went to markets and charity shops that Stephen King books were everywhere and I decided to collect and read them at the age of 9.

My grandma was very encouraging – another horror fan in the family made her feel less lonely.

I realised at the age of nine most books I liked were movies and that movies very rarely come from other places; I liked movies and I wanted to watch my ideas on the TV or at the cinema.  I wanted the world to visually see what I see in my head or at least adaptions of it.

Books are a love – but mostly I love movies, I am very stimulated by vision and art.  I learn better with visual cues for example – I have mild dyslexia and dyscalculia as well as ADD and Paul thinks ADHD.  If something visually pulls me, I lose concentration on other things because of the interest it holds.  This can be difficult at times because I can zone out on people if I find something visually attractive about the environment around us, fashion, hair, or even a beautiful person – now that one can be awkward!

So, I am really writing in the hope that my books make it to the movies and if they don’t then I have a plan B.  I will give my first book out to publication and if there is no interest from movie producers to make something of it, then I will have to bore myself to tears to learn technology where I can create my own movies online.  How?  I don’t know, but I hope it won’t come to that!

One major type of book that saved me from a life of sex crime etc. was non-fiction psychology.  From the age of 9 I taught myself how to pacify aggressive people without becoming too submissive or self-deprecating, how best to react in violent situations and how to talk to angry people.

Now it works to a certain extent on a vast majority of people and I have been commended in work for excellent customer service and hospitality skills, but there is a small margin where the advice can actually make some people more aggressive with you – my mother is one of those.

If I didn’t emotionally react to her behaviour with me, she’d get absolutely hysterical, come close into my face screaming and then slap me repeatedly about the head, because damn it, she is going to get the reaction she wants because she needs to feel her power over me!  Because she is insecure, that’s all, my fear and tears make her happy, because it verifies to her that she is strong and she is still alpha.

It wasn’t until my mastoid surgery when I was seventeen that she was positively shitting a brick about hitting me, because I have a vulnerable spot at the side of the head would could be lethal if bashed.  So she tried other tactics to hurt me in other ways, usually the legs.

In 2012 it was a book called “Toxic Parents” by Susan Forward that helped me finally tell someone outside of the family and family friend circle about my mother.  They responded in horror, they were a nursery worker for my son Henry.  They got me a nurse and a family support worker to come and speak with me and then the police came to give advice too.  Unfortunately their advice was, get her out of your life or it may affect your ability to care for your son appropriately, meaning that we could take court proceedings to put your son into care until we feel that you are safe!

Because my son did sustain a head injury earlier on that month due to my mother encouraging him to do dangerous things, such as deliberately climbing onto the dining room table to jump off it onto the floor, he was 14 months old and had only been walking seven weeks!

She didn’t want me to have children, you see, it wasn’t part of her plans.  She wanted me to stay home forever and become her nurse when she is old; she told me this over and over as I was growing up.  I accepted it, because it’s what daughters do, but mothers tend to want their daughters to thrive, be independent and happy in their own right too and usually good mothers want their daughters to expand their family, don’t they?

She didn’t.  She didn’t want what she called “more problems” that came in the form of new family members – she didn’t want me to go out alone and make friends, because she liked to micromanage my every waking moment.  It was hard for her to allow me to go into full-time work and she’d often sit in her car all day long outside my work place waiting to see what happens, if I leave early etc.

On some occasions I was ten minutes late in leaving the building because my boss required extra work, my mother would embarrass me by making a visit to the building demanding to know where her daughter is and how they can’t push me around into doing more than my times worth!

I often lost jobs because of her.

Because I knew how she liked to micromanage me and because I wanted to be a good daughter and keep my head down and please her the best I could, until I could convince her to allow me freedom and a family of my own – I decided to talk with her about me becoming self-employed with homework of some description, there was always an issue for her and that never worked.  Because she would become obnoxious when I was on the telephone (up until 2015 I had perfect hearing in the left ear), so keeping those jobs was a task too.

She revelled in telling people about how lazy I was, how she is stuck with a quiet reclusive freak of nature that is eating or starving herself to death periodically and has no enthusiasm for life whatsoever.  Not true, I had no enthusiasm for the life she wanted for me.

I had a lot of ambition until I gave up wanting.

When I was twenty seven I left her to move in with Paul, it was done sneakily but I had to do it that way.  By thirty I had to stop all contact with her, because she is a respected matriarch in the family that meant I had to say goodbye to everyone except for a small handful of relatives on my dad’s side of the family.

She would never know or appreciate that all I ever wanted in my life was for me to be considered a daughter that was good enough to stick around and help as much as I did.  Good enough to trust out alone, good enough to get chores done, good enough to deserve a good husband and family of her own and good enough and trustworthy enough to be humane enough to want to care for her mother if she ever needed it.  I didn’t need to be moulded and abused to do that, but she didn’t understand and I don’t think she really cares.

Because I messaged her in 2014, two years after not speaking to her and I said to her – I am willing to forgive and forget everything about the past, if she is willing to tell the truth to others about how my life was like and repair my reputation in the family and secondly I’d come back into her life if she could allow me to take full charge of my own life because after all I am a woman of thirty now with my own child – she said no, she won’t do that.

I said well just give me permission to live life how I want and I will work it out with the others myself.  No, she said, I won’t do that Tina, because I don’t agree you know what is best for you and as far as I am concerned, you don’t need that permission really, what are you playing at exactly?!

So I said to her – are you telling me then that I have got you wrong?  That you’ve always allowed me to make my own decisions and you never intended to interfere?  No she said – I never said that and you know what Tina, this is the end of the conversation.  I leave the ball in your court, come or go as you please, but I won’t change – I stand by the fact that you haven’t a clue about life and that you are a stupid, stupid girl and as far as I am concerned I wish you never have any more children, you made a stupid mistake when you decided to keep that one! (This was in reference to my Henry who was planned and is very much loved)!

I also wanted to point out, that the message came about because I wanted to tell my mother that I was hospitalised with an ectopic pregnancy and how my plans for a large family could be over and I was feeling suicidal over it – because all I wanted in life was to be a mother of a large brood.

Books have helped me heal from that too… books are magic aren’t they?

Thanks for reading! 

P.S my idea of fun is… picnics or eating out at buffets or country pubs with a large group of family or friends, rowing on a lake, visiting a zoo, playing with dogs, doing messy arts and crafts with kids and playing pretend with my creative and kooky friends, oh and swimming, I love swimming and gardening or being in a beautiful garden that isn’t overlooked! That’s the light side of me… there is a dark side too… What does that part of me like?

Once again friends or family around me, snuggling down with a horror movie – watching thunderstorms, creeping people out, telling a good story, having sex and generally being my weird self!

And guess what!  No drink and drugs for any of that is there? Well, erm, maybe the pub lunch eh?

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I cry for you

Life is hard for many

It is made worse by some

Everyone wants peace on Earth

Everyone wants some…

Love and understanding

Acceptance, friendship, peace

Everyone wants the judgement of them to cease

Why is it so hard to learn to love others so?

Why can’t you stop your judgements and learn to let them go?

Why is it so important?

To demand that others change?

When it’s not your life at all, not everyone’s the same!

Why is it those who shout the loudest about life and love and light, who are the ones who shout out hatred and brings to others plight?

It’s a weird sort of tragedy that they do not see

The evil that is in them, because they hate you and me

They try to control us with venom about Hell and pain and more

But they don’t realise their evil words leaves us sore and raw

It’s a kind of irony; they don’t practise what they preach

They are spreading love and kindness, yet they beat us when they teach

It’s a sorry world when they rule us, it’s sorrier when they don’t learn

That every time they beat us, God’s stomach sits and churns

What can he do with his children?

Who sit and think this way?

What can he do about the evil, when they think their words are a good relay?

The more that converts to the words of hate and lies

The more God sits back and hear the innocent cries

It must pain God to see who is right and who is wrong

This is a difficult endeavour, to end this rhyme and song

Because no one will listen

No one really cares

Because everyone has a way of thought, a life to which they swear

But hopefully someday

The world will see a change

Where hypocrisy has ended and people start to care

I’m unhappy here

In a world that’s hard to be

A complete individual, a person that’s truly me

I hide behind a mask

Because I am scared of hate

But hate comes hardest from the lovers, the ones who love to hate

I’m sorry if I hurt you

With my tears and cries

But I have never asked you, to go into a corner and die

Because I am bisexual, because I don’t worship Christ

Because you fear I will burn in Hell if I don’t take your advice

You can’t see this is cruel, you can’t hear your evil words

Because you believe you’re right, to me you sound absurd!

We all find God in our own way, who are you to judge?

I believe God loves us all and doesn’t hold a grudge!

Because if he hates me for who I am – then why did he make me so?

It’s a question I have always asked and nobody really knows

But in the bible God has said he knew us before we were born

So doesn’t that say a lot… why are we as a society so torn?

I can’t answer it, but right now I am sad and deeply forlorn

Because you can’t love me, like a sibling would

Because you judge me so

Don’t you consider you are hurting God as well as me, no?

You pray for me, that I don’t go to Hell

I pray for you as well

Because I see you are blind in your hate for me

I cry deeply in this tragedy

Because hate is evil and you don’t see…

I do believe in God

Do you believe me?

I don’t gaslight, I share my love

I share my tears and woe

I truly do cry for you and the things you do, please know

I cry every night, because you really care

But you still don’t see the evil that you share

My life is very lonely

But with God I have a friend

For he doesn’t judge me as I am what he did intend

I can’t say any more than that

But I do love you despite the spat

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Who is the Tardy Creative?

TardyCreative.com was named mainly because I realised that although I am a writer and I aspire to someday becoming a selling artist, I knew that I have other interests which can sometimes absorb me!

Especially interests regarding gardening, reading, pets and other matters close to the heart, such as the LGBTQ community and generally defining myself as a person, healing from abuse and having fun!

I had wanted this blog to become a broad outlook about me, this was never meant to be a professional blog in which I will sell my books, because to me, this is a personal blog.  When I approach an agent with my work in the future, I will create a professional blog separate but connected to this.

This blog was purely intentionally made to share my life with people and my progressions in my life, including my progression as a creative.

I suffered a lot of abuse from controlling people who moulded me into becoming what THEY wanted; this blog was my attempt at showing the world that I am becoming who I want to become!

Unfortunately until this point, I have done so with some sense of shame and embarrassment.

I have not been confident enough in sharing photographs and things in too many depths, but I am learning to change and I am building confidence, slowly but surely!

Any idea that this was meant to be my actual “Professional” blog is wrong, this is a personal blog, and it always has been!

I am fine tuning myself in various ways in my life at a fast pace, because I am determined that my life really will start at forty, like the old adage says it does!

I need it to work, I need it to happen and I need to stop living in fear!

But ultimately, I need to learn to love myself, be happy in my own skin and I am not.  But I am trying my best to change how I see myself and to learn to love the skin I am in!

I am going to be shouting loud and clear about who I am in up and coming posts, but I do not intend to preach and I do not intend to convert, my intentions are to purely and wholly be me, without shame and to share who I am to the world!

Because hardly anyone knows the real me, they just know the trained, tamed version of me that my mother and other abusers have made me into.

The boring me, the monochrome me, the quiet me, the me that is not me… basically.  My shadow is more me than me!

So, as I fearfully crawl out of this rock, learning technology as I go my way, I am also learning not to fear being rejected for who I really am by the world I am creeping into!

Hello, I am The Tardy Creative, my real name is Tina, but that is going to change soon to something that is more me, it is something I have always intentionally wanted to do – change my real name. 

So I will be forty in October, October the 3rd to be precise and I heard that life begins at forty and I really hope so for me!

I have struggled with two different and very clashing eating disorders in my life, both compulsive eating (when angry, stressed, feeling trapped and bullied) to anorexia and bulimia (when sad, grieving, depressed and sick).  However, when I am relaxed and happy and enjoying life, I have been known to forget to eat because I am in the moment, whether or not that is anorexia or not, I don’t quite know, but it’s a funny thing with me!

I have body dysmorphia, I believe I am really hideous, so I don’t like to share images of myself – I am trying to change my perception of myself, by adding pictures of myself here soon and regularly.  To see whether or not I am as hideous as I think or not! 

Stupid in reflection, because social media is often cruel as it is sometimes kind!

Things most people don’t know about me, is that I am very bisexual or rather pansexual, if I find someone attractive and I get along with them, I will go into a relationship with them, whether man, woman or trans.  I have dated Trans men before and ladies, but I was never open about it.

I am also shy about my own crossdressing forays.  I love to dress as the young dandy of the late eighteenth century but I am also really into Bohemian and kawaii styles too, I am very eclectic and I live each day differently. 

If I could have any magical power I suppose it would be transmogrification, so I can change my looks according to my feelings of the day!

I love to have long hair, but I have alopecia as well as mild trichotillomania (which is triggered when badly stressed or bullied) which is ruining my looks – I have thought about shaving my hair to a very short pixie cut or crew cut and wearing wigs, but I am frightened of doing that, in case of abuse and attack and becoming unattractive to new relationships in my life.

My alopecia is due to malnutrition as I have a digestive disease and pernicious anaemia where I am not able to absorb B vitamins and biotin in particular. 

Despite not wearing makeup much and having a limited wardrobe, I am very fashion conscious and love the fashion industry and watching Vogue on YouTube etc.  I have never been educated in how to use make-up by anyone, except the videos I see online; I am really quite a novice.  I am not confident about knowing what I am doing and this too is something I want to change!

I am not known for wearing dresses, but I am getting into them these days!  I never liked wearing trousers, but I did it because I was told to for so many years, that wearing them became a habit!

I always liked maxi-dresses and skirts and certain styles and colours and up until recently I have been mostly black (influenced as a perfect choice by my mother) and occasionally pink (chosen by Henry and Paul).

I like loud and bright looking clothing and I was told in order to wear bright garish clothing, I need to be a super confident, loud and garish person!  If I am not that, then I will be humiliated by the public and picked on!  So I have avoided it.

This too, will change!

I always felt that nobody is interested in somebody like me, no one wants to hear what someone like me wants to say – but as I am learning more about the social media, the more I have learned that you become who you are, share what you are and you will find your tribe, you will find others like you and the world will become smaller and more inclusive for you as an individual.

Gone are the days of true isolation.

This is why I want to harness using technology and social media, I need to find out for myself that I truly am not alone, that there are people out there just like me, who think like me and like the things I like too – that I am not a weird little thing that needs to be hidden in case it is destroyed by society, like I have always been told I am!

I have the right to exist how I want to exist, so does everybody!  So I am going to fight for it and become exactly who I want to be!

You realise of course I am shitting brick as I am saying this?  Because now I have told this to you all, I have to now actually act upon it… don’t I?

Well, I’ll try…

Thanks for reading!

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Stop contributing to suppression

I am falling down a rabbit hole lately; I feel like I am chasing approval, because there are many issues being raised within the book review and writing community which state certain likes and dislikes regarding various ideologies or classic works of the past – that seem to clash with my own work.

What I mean to say is, I am discovering as time is going on that the Western World is becoming increasingly intolerant to many subjects that is severely stifling not only personal freedoms of speech, but creativity – society is going on a big ban of almost everything collective mind-set, which is dangerous because, intolerance is suffocating the world.

Yes, OK, I understand that certain subjects in literature can be triggering, but you can’t keep sweeping things under the carpet – these things go on in the world and did go on in the world, yes the world changed, but to lock it all away and forget it is dangerous – dangerous because history will repeat itself if it is forgotten.

Yes certain subjects like suicide, rape and violence are horrific and should never ever be glorified, but to ban literature for having those themes will simply make these things manifest further underground and we really don’t want to make things go more underground – these things need to be exposed and these things need to be remembered.

For me personally, my rape and sexual abuse was absolutely horrible and I don’t think I could ever have got over it, if I had not have read other people’s biographical accounts of what happened to them!  It made me feel less alone and understood, before I read those books, I felt like nobody really understands what it is like to be a rape victim.

Same with suicide, if the literary works that contained suicide scenes and biographies of those going through that dark mental state had been banned, I would never have learned to cope with my own dark thoughts – I would have literally have been left in the dark…

Books such as Mein Kampf have been banned in many countries over the years and I have read this book, because I wanted to know why he hated certain people so much.  It did not make me sympathise with him in anyway whatsoever, but it enlightened me to the true horrors of the war with its depths and behind the scene snippets.

There is another book I read called The Women of Hitler, which again, mentioned events that I had no idea went on during the war – it is an eye opener and the scariest thing I have ever read.  The idea that a woman could do the things that they did to babies, it goes against feminine nature.  Absolutely no words can describe how this book made me feel… more than just shocking… I really don’t know what word can describe more than shock for the description of how I felt reading this book!  It is more than horror, for no horror book could ever top what is mentioned and described in this book!

Having very close Jewish blood, it makes me understand why over half the members of my family in my great grandmothers generation decided to become Catholic and pretend that they were never Jewish – this startled many Jewish families into going into hiding on a permanent basis. 

My mother is still terrified about anti-Semitism still existing in the world today, that she begs that I never mention my ancestral past, but I won’t do that.  I am not ashamed of it, I defy the haters.  Paul my partner, is also scared about me getting too involved in my Jewish roots and teaching my son of them – but why?  Why has the world still not accepted a culture that has been around for millennia?

Why are some people still terrified to the extent they deny their roots and urge their friends of those cultures, to abandon those roots too for their own safety sake?

I did not enjoy reading what I read, but it helped me learn a lot about humanity.

It is vital that no area of life and events should ever be banned in literature – the world needs to know – it has a right to know!  And I for one will fight hard and true to ensure that nothing is swept under the carpet and hidden – for those who don’t like it, all I can say is… this shit happens, stop living in cloud cuckoo land!

I am learning more and more classical literature is becoming out of print because it upsets people.  The world shouldn’t be pandered to regarding this, they need to learn!  Future generations need to learn!

If we don’t get a handle on this soon, book burnings are going to be so commonplace, that it will revert society back to the dark ages!  That’s a scarier place to be than those offensive books!

Please, please, please… think about this!

You don’t have to like it, you don’t ever have to give the books a stunning review, in fact do the opposite if it upsets you – but never, ever vouch to hide it!

I said in a recent post – you can tell a lot about an author based on what they write… you don’t have to like them, but you need to know those people still exist, they need to be exposed and they need to be watched.

I don’t mean stalked – just watched, carefully… watch their fans more so… only then will the world stamp out such things.  But do it mindfully, carefully, never with hate and malice and certainly don’t try to supress it… because what happens when people try to suppress others?  It causes anger and anger causes violence and violence turns into bloodshed and war that is what we as a species are trying to prevent.  We are trying to bring peace to Earth; no negativity is going to do that, even if it is so-called positive negativity!  No negativity is ever positive!

So where was I going with this post?

I became a writer because I want to write mostly movies – my second motivation is healing from the crap I have experienced in my own life… so that does that mean?

It means in order for me to heal from what has happened to me, I need to write similar scenes in my stories to get it out there – off my chest, but also into the open to let people understand how certain people think and work…

I have a lot of very useful and needful information to share with the world through my fiction, but I feel as though I can’t do that anymore, because it might upset people.  It is actually damaging my mental health a lot more, because of this feeling of more suppression… a thing I have been fighting against most of my life!

Isolation and suppression!

I had hoped that my descriptions of scenes, though they will be horrible, will also help others who have experienced similar things.  Helped some isolated and supressed people learn how to get away from it and heal – but if my books are going to be rejected by agents and publishers because of awful and ban-able content, how can I do that?  How can I help those people?

How can I heal myself?

It’s fine to be all righteous about taboo subjects in literature when you have never experienced such horrors, but please learn to understand that the world isn’t all about you – it’s about all of us and the whole world! 

Some people need to read it – others don’t, so please don’t suppress those who need it, for your own selfish reasons! 

Because, ultimately, you will be contributing to a world where individualism and freedom becomes rarer and that’s terrifying!

Happy reading…

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Filed under About Me

You are dark like me

If my existence bothers you

And you do the things that you do

Then why are you still here? Give a clue…

If I drive you mad for years and years

That you sit and stalk and curse in tears

Then why do you watch me so?

Please tell me, I want to know…

If it pains you that I am alive

Then why do you watch me and won’t let me thrive?

Why are you so keen day to day, to keep on being this way?

What have I done to deserve this curse?

Because I didn’t join you in verse?

Then you must be tortured for I am only one

One of billions, who won’t praise the son

You are stupid, but you don’t see

That you are nearly the same as me

Because you call me dark, but you should know

Because only darkness can bring people woe

You bring me sadness, you bring me fear

You keep on watching, near and near

You are dark, but you don’t see it

You think you are light…

But you can’t be it!

Not if you can do what you do

Come on, wake up, you have no clue!

You are as dark as me… it’s true…

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Filed under poetry

Tropes and scenes loved and hated

Some writer friends have asked me to list what I definitely will not include in my stories and what I am likely to include in my stories in regards to themes and tropes and just general stuff.

Apparently it is a thing that’s going around where writers are starting to share that sort of thing?  Ok, here goes…

Too many romance scenes (sex scenes in my adult works possibly but not romance, gooey eye rolling load of old trollop nah huh ) – this is not for me and won’t be in my stories much if at all!  But do expect sex scenes frequenting some of my adult works! 

Unless the story has historical scenes, it is unlikely there will be silly gossiping women, I hate gossip!  The only time this is acceptable in my works is at the ladies cream tea afternoons in a Victoriana setting, but I do find writing these things cringe worthy, being a gossip is generally cringe worthy as it is! 

Technological explanations and scientific terminologies – I don’t have the brain for it – it will be basic stuff!  Oh this big blue square button does that and this round yellow one does this, character pushes said button and hey presto, that’s as nerdy as I get! 

Helpless women who lose their mind over men and forget to defend themselves because their love is in danger – the women in my stories generally have their heads together!  I mean I know for sure if I was a character in some of these books I have read, my reaction would be “I have my own problems, wait you wuss”!

Stereotypical monsters that just do evil because… hey… they’re monsters!  So overdone and totally unfair!  Not to mention, highly discriminating and endorsing discrimination… just saying! 

Emotionally bland or emotionally devoid scripts – I have read hundreds of pages of emotionally dead characters who keep on telling me about why they need to do something and get somewhere, but there is no real descriptive emotional output at all – it’s like, it’s their duty to have to think this way because it is expected, but generally there is no real feeling behind the words… you get me?  If you get me, you’ll see that I mean to say, that the character makes you feel like they are lying to both themselves and you as a reader! 

Mindless barbarians bonking heads for no other reason than they’re simply bored or want to be barbaric.  There is always a motive behind an action, tell me about it… not just the mindless violence! 

Slow paced stories, there has been books I have read where nothing at all moves the plot forward more than six pages at a time and that’s being optimistic!  I need something to happen on every page, it’s not hard to do!  No one wants the second scene to happen fifteen minutes later!

Repeating scenes already seen in the story or having characters lull over past memories again and again – yawns, boring!

Constantly reminding the readers how emotionally affected the person is about so and so, it is OK to mention it around three maybe four times in the whole book but please don’t take us back there in every single chapter!  We know, we read and understood it – doing this makes your readers feel like you think they are idiots who just do not understand – don’t do that to them!

Other than generalising height as short, tall etc and the build of the person as well as the colour of the hair or skin, please leave other things to the imagination unless those other features deeply affect the story in some way – like an eye patch or a scar on the chin which is why there is a revenge plot or something – but generally, let people use their own imaginations about who they want to play the part in their heads based on who they know with general outlines.

I love to write very descriptive body horror scenes because I love grossing people out, I understand this is not everyone’s cup of tea – but it’s what I do in my adult horror stories!

I love found family tropes and close family tropes, I love tropes where there is a small team working together towards the same goal!

I like write historical scenes and be descriptive about the environment and landscape around the character!

I write a lot about isolation and abuse, because it is something I have experienced a lot over the years, therefore I feel it is easy to write in a believable way.

I am very good at understanding the hidden aspects of society, the things that people can hide from others, the secrets, the lies, the behind closed doors of Mr and Mrs Ideal-Citizen, the underground stuff, the dirty nitty gritty aspects of life.

I am very good at writing different points of view because I have had a very rich life regards to socialising with different classes and types of people just by being moved from relative to relative.  I have lived with rich aunts and certain members of the aristocracy because on one side of my family we have a very old family – on another side of my family they are gypsies and farmers – another side were refugees, lots of different religions and class systems.  The list goes on! 

I find it easy to write from the perspective of a social worker and a teacher who is worried about their abused pupil/client and then write from the perspective of a junkie about to lose their child – I have seen these things unfold right before my eyes time and time again growing up!

One thing I have experienced time and time again from lots of different people and classes is suicide and sudden loss due to murder.

I have a huge interest in environmentalism, so pollution and innovation is something I like to put in most of my books.

Because I love comedy and prefer books and movies with comedy aspects, I do tend to like to throw in humour whenever I can, including in my darkest horror stories – I can’t help it; it always gets in there somehow!

I do love vampires and I have to say at least a third of my work will have some kind of vampire in there!

I love animal companions and so that will be a thing – particularly fond of anthropomorphic animals pretending to be human or whatever.

I like over the top comic hero and villain tropes, so that is another thing that will be seen a bit in my works.

There is likely to be someone who is rather off key in my stories, a batty old aunt, a batty young aunt, the green juice hippy weirdo and the generally bonkers type of person – or the harsh out of touch with their emotions type who is learning to soften themselves down a bit.

There will be women who save themselves and maybe even male characters! 

There will be lots of free range children living independently and causing chaos or massive changes in their communities.

There will be a lot of subterranean places too; in fact this is something that is seen in half of my stories so far!

People who are incredibly lucky when things aren’t really going for them!

Also, I will always end up being just ever so slightly corny…

So that’s what you can expect from me… I won’t say anything else on the matter, so please stop poking around…

Thanks for reading! 

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