Good enough?

I made an error of judgement this year. I chose to do a course in economic history this semester.

It was a strategic and considered choice but it was still wrong for me.

Now I find myself in a difficult situation. I am due to hand in an essay tomorrow and it is not complete nor do I believe it is within my capability to complete.

I have a convincing argument, I also have a fairly solid introduction and conclusion what I do not have is anything more than the bare bones of the body of the text nor any coherent data to back it up.

At this point I would usually mess things up for myself and not hand in the assignment or go to tutorials or lectures however, this is last chance saloon for me and I promised myself I would not mess it up with self defeating, self destructive behaviour. So, what I am going to do is accept that sometimes good enough is good enough.

What's more I am also going to accept that I can't always reach even that point and rather than throwing it all away in a fit of pique I will hand in what I have done, cross my fingers and hope for the best. After all if I hand in nothing I fail automatically, if I at least hand in what I have done I have a chance, however slim, to at least get some marks, maybe even pass?

Build up, break down

I'm working from home today. Well that's the plan anyway... I do have an essay due on Monday after all.

I need to be at home today because I can't be at Uni.

It's been a difficult week and I broke down midway through it. Like shaking and crying and hiding in the corner rocking broke down. Normally if I go away from the situation that caused it I feel better fairly quickly... not this time.  On Thursday I still felt fragile and close to tears. I was mostly mute and hiding behind my hair (which I haven't had to do for a long time, not since I dropped out of school 25 years ago). I was like that until I made the decision to work from home today and cancelled my meeting with the learning support tutor who I see on Friday mornings. I don't really need learning support but I do struggle with executive function issues so she helps me with planning, prioritising and working out how long activities will take to achieve.

The point is, as soon as I made that decision, I felt better, stronger. I need to take breaks. I saw how much that helped at comic con. Now I just need to apply it to everything else.

Happier than I look, honestly

Comic con

On Saturday I went to my first ever comic convention. In Dunfermline of all places. It was busy, crowded, hot and very, very noisy but so much fun. 

The kids and I spent way too much money but we got some amazing stuff, including a couple of rare graphic novels and comics. We got photos with the tenth Doctor, and got to have our pictures taken in Luke Skywalker's landspeeder. 

I'm really glad we did it this year though. If this had been a year or two ago it might not have gone as well as it did. At least one of us would have had a meltdown (probably me if I'm honest) at least once. Now we were all aware of our needs, triggers and signs. We took loads of breaks and time out whenever we needed, and as a result had a really good day.

I still struggle with my diagnosis from time to time. I lived without it for the best part of 39 years, I learned how to cope with asc without even knowing I had it (not always in the most healthy of ways but hey, at least I appeared to be doing ok). I still feel like a fake a lot of the time, but I felt like a fake a lot of the time even before my diagnosis so nothing new there really I just have a different way of beating myself up about it. The real difference is that now I am a lot better at giving myself permission to be kind to myself and I'm better at recognising stressors and triggers and my own signs. The difference is that I can help my kids develop healthier coping mechanisms and not have to give themselves permission to be kind to themselves, they just will be because they deserve nothing less.

Who put that button there?

It's Monday morning and in less than five hours I have to hand in an assignment for my economic history class. I'm not looking forward to it because it's a half-assed piece of rubbish. It was very nearly halfway decent but I, as usual, had a crisis of confidence at the last minute and rewrote the whole thing from a different angle that I hadn't researched properly. Ugh!

This is a recurring theme in my life. Its like I was handed a big red button at some point in my life and I just can't stop pushing it. It never makes things better and yet somehow it seems like it should. Maybe next time...? Or maybe I should just through the damn thing away, if only it was that easy.

If anyone has plenty of self control and wants a big red button I've got one going spare... please take it off my hands!

[Edit: I got an A on this assignment, just shows what I know! ]

pondering procrastination.

A lot has happened since I last wrote anything here.

1. I returned to education and I'm now in the second year of an undergraduate degree in history and sociology. Which is quite exciting.                                                                                           
2. I along with two of my children have been identified as being on the autistic spectrum. We plan to have the other two assessed at some point and there is a very strong suspicion that my o.h. is also neurodiverse in some way.                                                                                                        
3. My husband was 'medically retired' from work due to mental health issues (while they were having a mental health awareness drive no less!)

There are other things, but these are the biggies.


As a result of these changes there will be a slight adjustment to the focus of the blog. I will still continue to post about books from time to time, I may continue to put up bits and pieces of writing but for the most part the focus will now be on these three journeys. Life as a mature (ish) student, adjusting to life on the spectrum and living as a work free (not work shy) family and how we cope and come through all of that together. 

Three for the Price of One...ish

I have an eensy weensy confession to make.

I am a book addict.

I have heaps of them, literal stacks of books, books in boxes that I still haven't unpacked since we moved into our current house four and a half years ago because we just haven't the room for them. I keep asking my husband to put up shelves but somehow there's always something else that needs to be done first. Still, I live in hope. I have even read most of them {the books that is}.

My addiction is mostly under control but every now and again I have a binge. This week has been one of those times.

I've had Blackbirds for a while now, I got it when it was available free from the publisher, but for one reason or another I hadn't got round to reading it. I finally got round to it this week and, well, WOW! Miriam Black how do I love thee, let me count the ways!

Having devoured Blackbirds in double quick time I then bought both Mockingbird and The Cormorant and devoured them just as fast.

 I know I'm going to have to go back and have a slow thorough read of all of these books, and I'm looking forward to that, but this initial reading of the books was like the first wild swim of the year - a mad exhilarating dash that left my skin pink and tingling and my blood racing.

I love the way Chuck Wendig writes female characters, like he gets right inside their skin and totally inhabits them [except not in a creepy Silence of the Lambs type way, obviously], and Miriam Black is a great example of this. Oh and what a supporting cast. Poor put upon Louis, scummy shit-bag Ashley, Harriet and Frankie to name but a few; truly memorable characters everyone of them.

If you like your stories dark, your characters complex and multifaceted and your plot pacey and full of thrills then you might want to try these books.

Nutritional Grail by C.J. Clark

As a result of various health issues I have developed in the past year I have been trying to change my diet to see if that might improve my health.

I recently found this book. Nutritional Grail - Ancestral Wisdom, Breakthrough Science and the Dawning of a Nutritional Renaissance by Christopher James Clark.

Before I go any further with the review I just want to state for the record that I received a free review copy from Story Cartel.

So, on with the review...

I found this book to be a very interesting, thoroughly researched, and user friendly book. There are extensive foot notes to every chapter detailing the studies, research papers, letters, journals, etc that the information in this book, together with the expertise and experimentation of the author, is taken from.

The author himself began as a business analyst before moving into the field of food and nutrition and the research skills and attention to detail that he gained from his former occupation have made for a very well detailed and researched book.

There are chapters on protein, carbs, fats, etc detailing how they affect us positively and negatively, and how to get the most out of your diet. What this book does not do is tell you what to eat or how to eat it but it does tell you how to get the most out of your food and what you definitely should not be eating.

The book finishes with loads of really delicious sounding recipes that I am looking forward to trying out.

Bait Dog: An Atlanta Burns Novel by Chuck Wendig

Atlanta Burns rocks!

So, not only does she stand up for the disenfranchised, misrepresented and misunderstood, now she's doing the same for dogs! I wept buckets.

The book starts in tragedy and almost ends in tragedy. Atlanta learns some shit along the way and ultimately comes out on top - sort of.

I don't want to give too much away so this review is, by necessity, really brief but Chuck Wendig is fast becoming one of my favourite writers - I might even go so far as to say that he's up there with Neil Gaiman.

Moving the Mountain - Charlotte Perkins Gilman

Moving the Mountain, the first book in the Herland Trilogy, is...well it's hard to sum up my feelings about this story. I think ambivalent probably expresses it best.

I found myself constantly having to remind myself that it is from a different era, that the ideas presented in the story were-at one time-acceptable. On the other hand there were things in the book that are wholly admirable by today's standards and that we should be striving for-that every society should be striving for.

I found this story very challenging. It actually made me shiver on a number of occasions, and yet, I can see how at the time it would have been a ground breaking novel expressing some interesting new ideas about society and societal structure.

I have previously read The Yellow Wallpaper and loved it. This story? Well, I loved elements of it. If you know the story of the Curate's Egg that sums up perfectly my opinion of this story - "Good in parts."

Stardust - Neil Gaiman

This story is by Neil Gaiman - what else need I say?

Well a bit actually. It is a great fairy story. There's a love-lorn hero, a damsel in distress, a beautiful princess imprisoned by an evil witch, evil witch queens, cold-hearted lords on a quest for power, a unicorn and much, much more.

The book alone is well worth reading but not only is this book available as a novel it is also a graphic novel and a film and each is well worth checking out.

I've found myself thinking that maybe this review is a bit short but seriously - it's Neil Gaiman! - that alone should say it all.

Then again I do have a MASSIVE crush on the man - I met him once at an event, total embarrassment, I couldn't speak, mumbled some random shit at him and then had to stand there blushing madly while he eyed me as if I was some slightly dangerous exhibit at the zoo that he couldn't tear himself away from. Still, I have books that he has touched with his own hands - I even have the signatures to prove it!

I suppose you'll just have to go and read the book to find out that it really is good and not just a figment of my obsessed imagination.

Shot in the Dark

A wee vignette for your pleasure today.

Shot in the Dark

I was shot today. By whom or why I have no idea. It was dark, I was half asleep, waiting for a train at an isolated station.

It wasn't an accident, I wasn't caught in cross-fire or mistaken for someone else, there was no one else at the station. Just me, oh and my killer of course.

I'm not really sure what to do now. I feel strangely reluctant to leave my still warm, but rapidly cooling, body. There has been no door, no light, no figure robed in black to meet me, none of the clichés I kind of half hoped would actually be true. I really don't want to leave my body alone on the platform. I realise that it is an empty shell but it is still my empty shell and I liked it, was comfortable in it.

I sit, or rather hover, on the station wall, waiting for someone to discover my body. The last train is due any minute but I was in the shelter and my body has fallen behind the low stone wall that forms the front of it, I may not be discovered until the morning commute.

At last the train arrives. People hurry out of the doors and along the platform, rushing to get home to their loved ones. I float about trying to get someone to slow down, but I have no body, no substance, I am nothing more than thoughts drifting in the cold night air, a few people shiver as they pass through what remains of me but nothing more.

Eventually they are gone and I am alone with my body once more.

End.

Comments, criticisms, etc welcome.

Thanks for reading.

The Turn of the Screw - Part 2

Wayhay, I have finished! Now, on with the review.

I found The Turn of the Screw, by Henry James, to be a quaint, compelling, and eerie read. I will admit that I found the sentence structure challenging, some sentences went on for what felt like pages and pages, but complicated and archaic sentence structure notwithstanding, it was a great book.

The basic story is that of a young woman, engaged to work as a governess for two orphaned children by their uncle-and guardian-who wants not to be bothered by them, or her. When she arrives at the house in the country where the children stay it is to discover that the young boy has been expelled from school, the previous governess left in mysterious circumstances-and subsequently died soon after-and that the whole house had been in thrall at some point to the absent uncle's manservant Quint-who has also died in mysterious circumstances.

During the course of the story our heroine "sees", whilst walking at twilight, a mysterious figure high up in a tower on the grounds of the house, she goes on to see this figure again, becomes convinced that it is Quint, and realises that there is a plot to possess the children. About halfway through Miss Jessel, the previous governess, also appears-seen at a distance-to join in the attempts at possession.

Or do they?

Just as I settled into thinking that this was a charming little ghost story the whole thing turned on me and I found myself wondering if I was in fact watching an unstable woman's descent into madness.

A deliciously creepy and unsettling story.

I'm a bit behind on posting reviews of books...Oops!

I have read quite a few books since the start of the year, I just haven't reviewed any.

Last night I finished the final book in the Wheel of Time Cycle - A Memory of Light.

I started the Wheel of Time books a few years ago on the recommendation of an acquaintance and I was hooked instantly. I devoured those books and read every one as soon as I could get my hands on it. When Robert Jordan died I was saddened both for his passing and for the loss of the end of the story, I desperately wanted to know what would happen to them all - Nynaeve, Egwene, Rand, Mat, etc, etc - would they succeed, would they beat Shai'tan or would it all ultimately end in disaster?

When Brandon Sanderson was chosen to use Robert Jordan's extensive notes to finish the story I rejoiced, more so when it transpired that there was just too much to fit into just one book and there would now be three more to enjoy.

Brandon Sanderson is a good writer and he did a great job of finishing the series, but it was different, the voices of the characters were different, the feel of the books was different and the whole thing sort of lost it's appeal for me.

That said I still read them, I still enjoyed them - until A Memory of Light that is.

It was good but it dragged somehow, there were just too many threads all having to be followed, loose ends having to be tidied up. It felt messy and out of control and I kept having to bring myself back to it.

Ultimately I did enjoy the story, it was good to say goodbye to that world and the people in it, I'm glad I know how it ended and how they all got there in the end. I don't think I will be going back to revisit it any time soon though - if ever!

The Turn of the Screw

I was supposed to post a review of The Turn of the Screw by MR James on Monday. Clearly I failed to do so as I'm posting this on Friday.

I have to admit I have failed to even finish the story. This is an Epic Fail on my part. The story is great, atmospheric, well written, all of that and I am going to keep reading it {slowly!}, but I cannot read it in a week or even two, possibly not even three. It is written in the most convoluted way with great long rambling sentences that go on for what sometimes feels like pages and, as much as I am enjoying the story, I keep getting distracted by shinier, easier to read stories like Bait Dog by Chuck Wendig.

I am disappointed in myself, but I will persevere. I will read and review other books. I will continue the challenge and I will not let this first disaster colour the rest of the challenge!

If you get a chance, and have lots of patience, or possibly just more brain power than me, then do read this book as it well worth a look even if you do feel, as I do frequently, like grabbing the woman and telling her to stop being so silly sometimes.

52 Books in 52 Weeks

So, if you read my last post, you'll have noticed that I planned to start reviewing books. I thought it might be good to tie this resolution into the 52 books challenge.

The first book on my list is The Turn of the Screw by Henry James. I'm hoping to post the review on Monday.

The next few books are :

1. The Herland Trilogy - Charlotte Perkins Gilman
2. Little Brother - Cory Doctorow
3. The Invisible Man - HG Wells
4. Battle Tales From Burma - John Randle
5. Ratcatcher - Tim Stevens
6. Three Men in a Boat - Jerome K Jerome
7. Greyfriars Bobby - Eleanor Atkinson

So, that's me for the next two months or so. If anyone has any suggestions I'd be glad to hear them, otherwise I'll be aiming to post a review every Monday.

Resolutions? Oh well if I must!

So, I don't really hold with resolutions. As I see it they tend to be a  lot of empty promises that are forgotten by the end of the month-if they last that long-they sound nice but mean little.

That said, there are a few things I would like to do this year and what better time to start than at the start of a shiny new year?

So, for what is's worth here are my New Year promises to myself.

1. Write every day.
2. Review some of the books I read - at least one a week posted here.
3. Finish my book and try to get it published.
4. Start cycling again.
5. Attempt to get on top of the housework {this one probably won't happen but I'd like to at least try!}.
6. Keep my cool/not lose my temper.
7. Write every day.

So there you have it; by the end of the year I will be a lean mean, good tempered, writing machine with a {maybe}clean house and {hopefully} a published {or at least on the way to being published} book.

A Kick Ass Heroine from a Kick Ass Writer

Having read Chuck's non fiction books, and being a devotee of his blog, I had high expectations for this novella. I was not disappointed.

This was a rip-roaring, roller-coaster of a story that grabbed me at the start and didn't let go until the very last page; my kids went hungry, my husband's work shirts were not washed, the dog was not walked, did I care? Not one jot! I was cheering for Atlanta Burns the whole way. A messed up kid trying to make her way in the world with little in the way of guidance and support-I really hope we see a little more of the mother daughter relationship in the next few stories I really want to know what the deal is there-and trying to help others along the way.

There were a couple of teeny tiny proofreading errors but nothing serious even if they did momentarily jolt me out of story mode.

I will definitely be getting the next book in the series as soon as I can and keeping my eyes peeled for more to come.

Sleeping Princess

Wrapped up, warm and cozy in bed, a young woman awakens.

Rain lashes down the window, wind wuthering round the castle making the roof tiles rattle and shaking the window in its frame.

She groans, wraps the covers round her more tightly, and tries to go back to sleep. Surely no prince will come today.

It's been a hundred years, a few more hours won't matter.



So, I've missed a few days...oops. In my defence I have been busy, writing my novel, trying to start up freelancing, preparing for the festive season, and looking after the home and family.

On the other hand that really is no excuse. 

The Ordeal

The young girl ascends the stairs. Her mouth dry, her heart pounding, will she survive the ordeal to come? Her foot misses a step, her sweat slicked hand fails to grip the rail, she lands awkwardly bruising her knee.

Abruptly, the door at the top of the stairs opens,

"You're late." Snaps the young woman. "Hurry up!"

The girl rushes up the remaining stairs, stumbles at the top, and falls through the door landing at the feet of the young woman who, for the next two years, will be her leader, her guardian, and possibly her nemesis. Hopefully it won't come to that, she will perform well today, she will triumph and they will love her.

The room is small, cosy, slightly shabby, but homely and filled with elegant decorative touches. Four young women fill the room; one lounges in a window seat, beautiful, elegant, poised; another two are on a sofa, one serious and stern looking, the other, plumply pretty with a merry glint in her deep black eyes; the fourth is the woman who opened the door, tall, stunning, with masses of tightly curled hair falling about her shoulders in careless abandon. These are the ladies of the Lower Sixth, prefects who oversee the younger girls of the school. These are the people who subject every new girl to a terrifying ordeal.

The first day you get a note in your pigeon-hole:

Dear Nobody,

One week from today you will be summoned to the prefect's room, if you do not find it, or if you fail to attend you will be punished and will not receive your name.

When you arrive you will be expected to; sing the school song, in full,

                                                          recite the school prayer,

                                                                                            have memorised the school rules and be able to                                                                                      tell us randomly picked rules when we ask,

                                                                                        read passages from a book of our choosing,

                                                                    and sing a song of our choosing.

If you fail in one or more of these tasks you will be punished, if you fail all of these tasks you will not receive your name and will be "Nobody" for the duration.

Yours sincerely,

the Prefects.

No one tells you where the Prefects room is, you have to find it for yourself. They do, however, tell you in great detail about their ordeals and the kinds of punishments meted out by Prefects. Everyone agrees that teachers punishments are preferable to Prefects punishments.

A week later, your summons arrives, you have ten minutes from receiving the summons to get to the Prefects room, no more, regardless of where in the school or grounds you may be.

"Well? What are you waiting for child? Get on the table." says the elegant woman on the window seat.

The young girl gets to her feet and climbs onto the table, it is old and rickety and she does not like heights at the best of times. She is terrified.

"Sing child" says one of the Prefects and a book is lobbed at her from the direction of the sofa.

The girl opens her mouth and tries to sing but all that comes out is a nervous croak.

"You'll have to do better than that if you want to earn your name" One of them says with barely suppressed laughter in her voice.

The girl clears her throat and tries again. This time she manages, she sings the school song from start to finish in her beautifully clear soprano voice. Her Prefect, the one who opened the door, raises one eyebrow.

More books are buzzed at her.

"Now the Prayer, come on, get on with it." The voice says again.

The girl gets through the ordeal, in the end it wasn't nearly as bad as she had anticipated. When she walks through the door her Prefect whispers,

"Well done, you've earned your name back Stephanie."

Stephanie practically skips down the stairs eager to go and tell her classmates the good news.

As usual if you have any comments, criticisms, or suggestions then please do share them.

Thanks.

The Vixen

Deep in the forest, hidden in a tangle of brambles, there lies a hole. In that hole there lives a fox. A vixen to be precise.

This vixen is no ordinary fox, she is the genius loci of this place; the guardian spirit, and none dares enter without first seeking her approval, asking her permission.

No human feet have trod this path in decades. The vixen feels her strength waning and wonders what will become of this place when she is gone. She needs the power, the energy, she gains from visitors and her interactions with them. If she passes out of existence then this place will decay and crumble, the animals that rely upon it will die, and plants and insects that exist only in this fragile environment will pass out of the world forever.

She cannot allow this to happen, it is her sacred duty to protect the forest. She gathers the fading energies of the forest and sends out feelers into the wider world. Eventually she feels an energy that may help. Carefully, cautiously, she sends a picture laced with just the right amount of desire to the one who's energy she touched, encouraging him to come to the forest.

The vixen does not have to wait long before she senses the approach of the man. For the first time in years she leaves her den and goes to the edge of the clearing where the stones lie dreaming moss covered dreams.

The man is here, waiting at the edge of the clearing, his senses alert, his mind clear, his energy sending out tendrils, seeking permission to enter.

The vixen is pleased by this, the old ways are not entirely gone then, she thinks.

Permission granted the man enters. Not fully in touch with his energies, or not yet trusting in them, he uses dowsing rods to discover the work that needs done in this place. He does not realise that the work he does is secondary to his true purpose but no matter, he is here sending energy out to infuse the vixen, the stones, the very earth it's self and, what's more, he will return to this place many times and on some of those times he will bring others who will, in turn, bring more.

Balance is restored, life is returning. Satisfied the vixen returns to her den.


If anyone reading this has any comments, criticisms, or suggestions then please, feel free to share them.