Well… I had thought I might not be able to post this week.

I will be honest with you, I have been going through some things recently so I haven’t been quite myself.

Honestly I feel foolish to some degree, I invested everything in one risk in my life and it didn’t go the way that I had hoped. But instead its effects rippled onwards in my life in a very very different way, it inspired my friends to take risks. For that I am infinitely proud of them.

Of course that is not to say that I am not disappointed, because I very much am. I fought for something and someone I believed in, but when it came down to it I was the only one fighting, and it was a loosing battle.

I am confessing this because I don’t want anyone to ever think that a risk isn’t worth taking if the pay off could give you all you have ever wanted. While it may not work, it may not bring you what you want but it might just bring you the confidence to know that you did all that you could, and you took the risk which is a huge achievement, some people never have the chance to take. It might work or it might not. It is never that you weren’t good enough if you don’t get what you want from the risk, its more that the risk you took had a different idea of where you are going in your life. That is totally fine, remember, a risk not taken could become the biggest regret so follow your heart don’t always listen to your head.

Well irregardless that today is April fools, I want to talk about something important.

A year ago tomorrow, my grandfather died. Since then I have been battling a lot more, I feel angrier, more painful.

Truth be told I feel like I have been robbed of so much time with him, getting to know him. I have disconnected from some corners of my life, and yet, I can’t shake this feeling. I feel close to him, without knowing him truly, like I should have.

I have a tattoo in his honor, it is on my wrist, my left wrist, its of a fish-hook. I chose that because he always signed his letters or cards with one, and it is what I know him most affectionately for.

The tattoo has become an attachment, I touch it to reassure myself, to feel closer to him, and to remember that family is so much more than what can be seen.

I wish so much was different about our relationship. But we are and were both incredibly flawed anyway, perhaps we had the perfect one to protect one another, although we always wish there was more.

I have always had him as some symbol of sorts in every story, somewhere buried in the pages. He is kindness, but more than that, he is creativity.

My granddad is where my creativity stems from, it’s not the only source but it is a strong source.

My granddad was a crafter, able to do large clever work and small intricate details.  So, for this weeks blog I wanted to honour him.

I want to honor the family that I have lost, the creativity they encourage, and the inspiration, they were, always have been, and always will be.

 

Well that would be if it actually did anything.

Instead, it has caused another project to open up in front of me.

Now I am editing and working on more than one extra project. For once, I am working on  a project that I haven’t planned a second of. That’s right, I am winging it. I hate not knowing where I am going with it but it is pretty damn exciting.

What I want to know is, does it ever work?

This winging it stuff, its pretty damn fun, so far I think all I have done is test the character again and again, repeatedly destroying their life. Its intriguing to see what the character organically responds to, and the characters around them. It pretty much seems an impossibly plausible story, I find that concerning, and the challenges are getting deeper and harder to over come. But that overwhelmed feeling is something we always suffer until we find the solutions.

Honestly I have a general direction for the winging it, but who knows how it will be achieved. I quite like it, but it does feel more or less never ending than all the editing that I need to be doing, that I should be doing. I think, I might have to put it down for a little while, refocus on the editing and then come back to it when I have done what must be done rather then all this procrastinating.

Progress update:

I am going insane, this editing is driving me mad. It seems never ending, but it should be ready soon.

Secret: I am planning to have it deadline ready for release on June 3rd this year. In special honour, because it one of my best friends birthday that day. H will be 25! So, release due on that day is kind of a special salute to him.

In book two the girls are going to discover what it is their parents have been keeping from them.

 

It has made me wonder, nature vs nurture. If the nature is as strong as the tide, and the nurturing was weak or indifferent, surely nature is going to win? But is it possible for the nurture to have any affect on the end results?

Does much of what we learn as a child stick through adolescence and growing up? Do we rebel for the sake of it or to test ourselves?

I have no idea, I am just procrastinating from editing. I like procrastinating. Since I discovered pinterest I have become a professional at procrastinating. I even pin anti procrastinating pins, I am that good at procrastinating.

Well, obviously, magic. Because that is how they can exist. So how and what kind? Do they pour their own magic into the world and let it grow?

Perhaps they eat the odd vegetable, the odd bit of meat like an idiot warrior sent to destroy it? Maybe they eat the odd tree, or the clouds? To be honest they could eat anything.

Perhaps the magic they exude makes the world around them inedible? Or perhaps the magic that they exude makes everything edible, they just choose to eat to survive, they eat what is the least consequential in terms of magic. Maybe their purpose is to increase the magic in the world, to help it thrive?

Perhaps that is why magic is now something in our minds and hearts and not blindingly obvious in the world around us?

I have no idea, if I meet one, I will have to find out, if I live to tell the tale that is.