Our Weary World, (my thoughts)

Hey folks, I don’t claim to be a poet nor would I but I like to sometimes put my thoughts in a poem structure of sorts. When I checked the news this morning, my heart sank. The world is lost, what’s next I asked myself, and then as I opened a blank page to continue with a work in progress, the below thoughts came out instead.

Stay safe wherever you are.

 

Our Weary World

Beginning to adjust to the new ways, lockdowns, social distancing

And missing family.

Battles within fought every few days

To keep focus for my own good and to save others.

Waking up to days without names, without function or

urgency.

A diseased heart dictates.

I could cope just about, then.

 

Now,

Our world is broken.

Not by new ways but old that lived,

secrets in shadows, until the masks, fell off.

From a simmering pot to boiling dry.

Its burning smoke choking us in reality.

The time, when living drenched in unfairness and injustice was never

gone to be no more.

Evil thrived unseen, unspoken, uncared about.

Weaved through society, hidden beneath layers of indifference and I’m alright Jack.

The world is weary, it wants us off, to leave,

to let nature claim it back,

from greed, disrespect, and power.

Who to blame for ruining the pot?

We all point the finger,

away.

When we should point it at ourselves.

 

 

 

 

The Street I Grew Up On

Lacey Taylor is the star of her own series of books, first introduced in My Husband’s Sin before moving forward in Don’t Call Me Mum. With the Lacey Taylor story due to continue in book three next year, I thought it’d be a fun and enriching experience to explore her character and her backstory in more detail. And so was born Letters From Lacey, online exclusive stories from her past to run alongside the books. I’m delighted to dive deeper into this wonderful character as time goes on! And who knows, if all goes well, I may start expanding other characters from the books too!


Dear Readers,

The street where I grew up on was once filled with the noise of laughing children. We would be in and out of each other’s houses, playing in the back gardens, eating dinner in which ever friend’s house we were at rather than break the fun and go home.

Sounds so idyllic and it was for my older sisters and brother. Not so much for me. I did have friends, lovely friends, people I was in school with. But mum never liked it when they came to my house. She would discourage it not by saying anything but by the frosty cold air that followed us as we would venture out to the garden or into the sitting room. I was never allowed bring them upstairs. So after a while my friends stopped calling over to mine. It was better if I went to theirs.

Willow, Sally and Robert, my siblings were always enjoying their friends over, even up in their bedrooms listening to music, but not me.

Our house was built in the late fifties early sixties, I heard Dad talking about it one time. It’s in south Dublin, a sought after area my mum kept saying. It is red brick front and detached, has a garage too. We were considered posh because of that, having a detached house. Flower beds that winded around the two cherry blossom trees in the front garden filled it with colour.

There’s a gravel driveway and I remember listening out for Dad’s car as he returned from work. He was wonderful, full of fun and hugs. Always telling me he loved me.
Later when we were older, the bus service put a bus stop close to our house and my mum went berserk, how dare they! The traffic became heavier too, we no longer had the quiet residential street of my siblings’ youth. Lots of things were different when I was growing up from their time. Guess that’s what comes from being the baby of the family.

Keep in touch and let me know if you have any questions from my story in My Husband’s Sin or Don’t Call Me Mum.

I so enjoy writing to you on here.

Lacey x


If you love Lacey as much as I do, be sure to check out her series and follow for more 😊 I plan to publish at least a couple of these letters each week, alongside the usual writing tips and updates you’d expect 🙂 For fans of the series, be sure to share this with your friends and family… It’s more Lacey! And you won’t find these stories in her books…

Getting out and meeting others

Bestselling UK author, Adele Parks and writer, Mary Angland, at Wexford Lit Festival 2018

We all know that writing can be an isolating career, cutting ourselves off when penning our novels, and then once the story is finally down on paper we have to go back in and edit. The editing is intense and draining for many and the ‘editing cave’ is often a term used by writers when they cut themselves off from society as they tackle their project.

So getting out and meeting others is very important. We need it to refuel, to charge up our writing batteries and just to feel human again!  This is where festivals and events come in to their own.

Sharing news and celebrating wins and awards let us know that our work is valued, that time locked away, (well it feels that way) has been worth it. But you don’t have to wait for a special occasion, join your local writing group. If you don’t have one, consider setting one up. Libraries love to have groups meet in them, and staff are always so helpful.

APIBA short list event 2018, with writer, Marie O’ Halloran and multi bestselling author, (TV series, Taken Down) Jo Spain .

By meeting fellow writers, you will be rewarded, not just with tips and hints on to improve your writing but making new friends, actual friends in the flesh, not just little thumbnail photos on social media.

So look up what’s on near you and consider attending, your mental and physical health will benefit and your writing will be inspired with new ideas.