On Friday, I attended a talk by author Katie Fforde , who read aloud from her thirteenth novel, Going Dutch , before discussing her writing and freely answering questions from her audience at West Kirby Library. Katie came across as a warm and likeable lady, and told us that while she sometimes bases her fictional characters on people she knows, even family members, she’s always careful to make sure she writes nothing unpleasant about them! It’s always heartening to hear an author describe how they struggled to get published for ten years before being successful, as Katie apparently did. I’ve heard it said that, on average, an author experiences seven years’ worth of rejection slips. The topic of the practical benefits of developing a writing routine was discussed at some length during Saturday’s meeting of Wirral Writers Inc., organised by John Gorman .   Everyone seems to have their own quirks and methods. For example, I write (virtually) every morning until around 2pm. Some peop

There I was, nervously perched on the top of a step-ladder whilst painting the bathroom ceiling, when peculiar soft ripping sounds emerged from the bedroom. Was my darling puppy entertaining herself by dismantling another stolen sock? Hmm, no - the noises seemed too industrious for that. So I carefully set down my sticky paintbrush and went to investigate. The duvet had been dragged to one side. A doggy-sized hole had been torn through the sheet, and half of my puppy was buried inside the mattress while plumes of shredded stuffing flew over her happily wagging tail.

Forty-seven people attended the second meeting of Wirral Writers Inc, including six members of Riverside Writers . Once again, John Gorman ran through the list of proposed events, and then those writers interested in specific projects made arrangements to meet as smaller groups in order to start moving those projects along. Some time later this month, a permanent office will be established in the rather grand Birkenhead Park gates. Fear not, there will be no need to impale office equipment upon an iron railing. The park gates consist of a tall sandstone building with the gate itself set into its middle, rather like a portcullis. If you visit:- http://cmsen.eghn.org/etfg-birkenhead-garten and scroll to the second horizontal trio of photos, the park gates are the pseudo-Grecian building in the middle image. Apparently, this office is going to be named the Wirral Academy of Arts. I wonder if the doorbell will play the theme tune from Fame ? *evil chuckles* Anyway, it’s not too late

At Riverside Writers , we set a monthly writing challenge which encourages participants to create a new poem or short story to a set theme. This theme might be inspired by a curious photograph, (such as a recent one which depicted a woodland tree with a large collection of ladies' shoes nailed to it). Or the theme might be generated by each participant writing a random word, (such as piano, marshmallow, axe, tutu, gorilla), on a scrap of paper, and the resulting group of words all have to be used within the new piece of writing. You could do something similar by yourself, just by opening a dictionary or a child’s alphabet book at random and using the first word your finger lands on, then repeating this process several times. Another method is to present the group with a sentence which must be used to start or finish the new piece. The results of these exercises can be fun to hear, certainly. Everyone always comes up with something which is unique. Also, imagination and innovation

My feet are still sore! Great concert, awful venue - standing up from before 7pm, when the doors opened, till almost 11pm, followed by a hike from Liverpool University Guild of Students' hall across the city to the train station, in three-inch heels (with pointy toes) is not a recipe for happy feet. Marillion were excellent, as expected. I would have liked to have been able to see more of them, however. The venue had no seating available, which meant everyone was stood on a level floor trying to peer at a fairly low stage. As I’m 5' 2" tall, this means I mostly saw people's backs. Why is that, no matter where I stand, some half-man-half-giraffe manages to park himself in front of me? If I had wanted to merely hear the band I could have stayed at home and played a CD rather than have paid £20 per ticket. Instead, I got a great view of the top half of the curtained backdrop. Trying to catch a glimpse of one of my favourite singers was akin to watching a beach ball ad

for Dad Just the other side of yesterday the heat of a Cornish beach caused you to roll your trousers to your knees and walk beside me through flowing waters. Letting go of my child-sized hand must have been the hardest thing. Watchfulness half-hidden in oak brown eyes, not wanting to withhold fun but, like a trapeze artist’s net, waiting in readiness. Just the other side of yesterday you smiled as I closed the door on a life you wanted forever, but wider worlds call every child. Amidst the guests your face shone, one ambition of yours attained – my hand safely in another’s – and how you smiled to hear I could visit the sea every day. Just the other side of yesterday your bone-thin hand stroked mine. grey-rimmed eyes already sinking into the other side of time. © Adele Cosgrove-Bray, 2007.

Picture the scene – modern hairdressing salon, people having stuff done to their heads while other people keep asking where they’re going for their holidays etc., and a little white reception desk staffed by a pretty girl confronted with an Adele. Me: I’d like to make an appointment for a cut and blow-dry. Girl: Which of our stylists would you like to see? Me: I don’t know; I haven’t been here before, but I want a senior stylist. We then sort out the day and time for the appointment. Girl: What name is it, please? Me: Adele Cosgrove-Bray. Girl: Picks up a pencil and writes Edel Cosg… Me: Don’t worry, everyone gets it wrong. That’s A-d-e-l-e C-o-s-g-r-o-v-e hyphen B-r-a-y. Girl: Writes Adele Cosgrove’Bray. Me: Oh, that’s an apostrophe. You need a hyphen. Girl: Giggles, uses an eraser and writes Cosgrove,Bray. Me: Smiling politely That’s a comma. You need a hyphen – like a little dash which joins up two words? Girl: Oh, sorry! Giggles, uses the eraser again and