Lost in a Forest

It’s a cold March. The sky is set to TV interference grey and there’s snow falling, enough to lightly cover the newly emerged bulbs of crocus and daffodil. As I slip and slide down the path towards Birley Spa Woods I can hardly feel my fingers, clutching the camera in case I lose it in the quagmire.


These woods lie at the south-eastern tip of Sheffield. They would have been part of Derbyshire in the 1960s before the boundaries were redefined. They remind me of the forests of fairy tales, the way the brambles and branches, as well as the strange urban geography has kept them hidden from most people, lost and a little forgotten. I think that’s why I love them so much. They are neglected and abused (children and teens regularly set fire to rubbish here or ride off road bikes and butcher the trees) and there’s something a little melancholic about them. They don’t have the attention lavished on them as say, Ecclesall Woods, but they have a charm all of their own.


Behind the primary school is the disused Victorian Spa. It’s fenced off and chained, sitting in beautifully haunting grounds. I used to think there was something menacing about the place but I think that I just misunderstood the place. It’s sad, neglected, and the ghosts of the Victorian and Pre-War day trippers are almost tangible around the old boating lake and spring. Nearby is the strange fossilised tree where they used to leave tokens and the ruins of the children’s paddling pool, graced by the splash of feet over eighty years ago.

The story of the Spa, a Grade II listed building is a fascinating one. Purportedly there was a stone, part of the lake wall, now gone, that had the date 1701 inscribed on it meaning that the spa and grounds might date back to the beginning of the 1700s but the first documentation of the site is in 1734 in a book about the mineral waters of England where it is called ‘Burleigh Spa’. There are records showing that people came from Sheffield in the Eighteenth Century to bathe and drink the waters for therapeutic purposes.

The current building on the site dates from 1842. There were two bridges over the stream in the grounds along with walks through the wooded valley and seven grottoes. The building contained two pools; one marble and one stone. Only the stone one remains. The bath house and hotel was eventually sold along with the cottages known as Rose Cottages and turned into pleasure grounds.

A boating lake, sandpits, rocking boats, see-saws and swimming in the ‘Roman’ bath were all advertised as part of ‘The Children’s Paradise – Birley Spa’. The pleasure grounds were closed to the public at the outbreak of war in 1939 and when the council housing was built in Hackenthorpe in the late 1940s and 1950s and the Sheffield Corporation became the owners.

(Shire Brook – The Forgotten Valley 2007)


As I move around the wrought iron fence of the Spa, I disturb the huge guard dogs that reside behind the security fencing of a modern house, now built upon the site of the old Rose cottage. For a moment, I am a little scared but then I marvel what it must be like for a modern family, surrounded by flat screen TVs and shiny granite worktops with all the mod cons, to be isolated and submerged in the woods like this. It reminds me of George Huxley’s house set in Ryhope Wood in Robert Holdstock’s ‘Mythago Wood’.



Just a few days later, I am back in the woods with friends and it’s discernibly warmer. We stand and watch a frog emerging from hibernation in the shallow waters of the old boating lake. There are stickleback darting and nibbling at a crumb of bread. Above us, in the trees we hear the sounds of woodpeckers at work. Spring is definitely arriving.



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A Book Is a Loaded Gun In The House Next Door

‘A book is a loaded gun in the house next door’ (Ray Bradbury – Farenheit 451)

Three Authors that Rocked My Writing World

Books and reading have been at the centre of my life, for over thirty-five years. There are photos of me as a child and awkward early teen, book clutched in hand, not even aware of the camera as I’m so absorbed in a book. I can identify parts of my life by what I was reading at the time. I can think of a book I read and the feelings and emotions of the time come flooding back, much the way smell evokes memory.

There are many books and many authors which I have been moved by, inspired by, changed in some way by but there are only three that I would say really inspired me to pick up a pen and write.


The first is Ray Bradbury. I read some of his many collections of short stories as a young teen and was hooked by his creative use of language. Ray Bradbury was more than a wordsmith. He took ideas, crazy, big, weird ideas, and brought them to life with beautiful but honest language. One of my favourite stories of his is ‘And the Sailor Home from Sea’ in ‘Machineries of Joy’. I love his description of the prairie, like the rolling sea and the wooden house, creaking like a ship. He turned the midwest of America into something weird and wonderful, created a whole new mythology of landscape for it.

‘Trembling in his bed, he whispered, No, no, it can’t be – I’m mad! But…listen!

He opened the farmhouse door to look upon the land. He stepped out on the porch, spelled by this thing he had done without knowing it. He held to the porch rail and blinked, wet-eyed, out beyond his house.

There, in the moonlight, hill after slow-rising hill of wheat blew in tidal winds with the motion of waves. An immense pacific of grain shimmered off beyond seeing, with his house, his now recognized ship, be-calmed in its midst.’

I also love what Bradbury had to say about writing. His quotes still move and inspire me now.

‘I don’t understand writers who have to work at it. I like to play. I’m interested in having fun with ideas, throwing them up in the air like confetti and then running under them.’

And about reading and the change in culture, the move away from it as a lifetime habit;

‘The problem… isn’t with books being banned, but with people no longer reading. Look at the magazines, the newspapers around us – it’s all junk, all trash, tidbits of news. The average TV ad has 120 images a minute. Everything just falls off your mind. … You don’t have to burn books to destroy a culture. Just get people to stop reading them.’

‘Farenheit 451’ is one of my favourite novels of all time. I would argue that it is in fact the most important science fiction novel of all time. Sheer genius. If you haven’t read it – shame on you! – go and get a copy now.

The second author who inspired me and continues to inspire me (He still writes – his last novel published in 2012 ‘Boneland’) is Alan Garner. It was a friend of my sister’s, visiting from University who introduced me to Garner when I was aged about twelve. The first book I read was ‘Elidor’ – I hesitate to say it is a children’s book because Garner doesn’t like that distinction and I think I have to agree with him there. A good book is a good book. If you have to dumb down your writing for younger audiences then it is not a good book.


‘Elidor’ was my first taste of fantasy. I had an old copy of the first edition that I bought second hand from the library. It’s about four children in Manchester who enter a fantasy world, fulfill a quest and return to find the enemy has followed them back. Written in 1965, it might even be the first British urban fantasy novel.

I believe it is based on the English Folktale ‘Childe Rowlande’ and quotes Shakespeare in the epigraph:

‘Childe Rowland to the Dark Tower came – ” KING LEAR, act iii, sc. 4’

This is one of my favourite passages in the book. I love the description of foreboding and imagery of static electricity, the way Garner drip feeds the feeling that something is  not quite right as Roland returns to his house.

‘After the first pulse of horror Roland did not move.

He saw every detail of plaster on the wall: he heard every sound in the house and in the road outside. He did not breathe: his mind raced so that every second was ten.

The shadows were not anybody in the room. It was too small and bare for anybody to be in it unseen. And they would have to be between the torch and the wall to make shadows.

This was my bedroom. There’s nothing to be frightened of here. They’re marks on the wall. Damp patches because the house is empty.

He went closer. They remained the same size. Flat shadows on the wall: motionless, sharp and black.’

I also loved ‘The Owl Service’. The idea of the eternal love triangle of Blodeuwedd, Lleu and Gronw that comes from the fourth branch of the Mabinogion is something that influences my writing to this day. Garner is a folklorist and that is clear in his writing. His interweave of landscape, folklore and myth is something I relate to on a personal level as it is the place where all my writing springs from too. It is what moves me to write.

To give you an idea where Garner’s inspiration comes from and how meticulous he is with research;

‘I had to read extensively textbooks on physics, Celtic symbolism, unicorns, medieval watermarks, megalithic archaeology; study the writings of Jung; brush up my Plato; visit Avebury, Silbury and Coventry Cathedral; spend a lot of time with demolition gangs on slum clearance sites; and listen to the whole of Britten’s War Requiem nearly every day.’

(Times Literary Supplement 1968)

If you are a writer, be sure to read ‘The Voice That Thunders’; his essays on writing amongst other diverse subjects such as folklore, archaeology, mental health and language. A truly brilliant writer.

The third is Robert Holdstock. Continuing with the theme of mythology, the British landscape and folklore, The ‘Mythago Wood Cycle’ of books includes; ‘Lavondyss’, ‘The Bone Forest’, ‘The Hollowing’, ‘Merlin’s Wood’, ‘Avilion’ and ‘Gate of Ivory, Gate of Horn’


Set in the Herefordshire ancient woodland known as ‘Ryhope Wood’. It tells the story of Stephen Huxley, his brother Christian and their father George. Stephen returns home from World War Two to find his brother Christian has become obsessed with the woods that surround their home Oak Lodge. He tells Stephen of his encounters with the ‘Mythagos’, creatures (humans, monsters and animals) created from ancient memory, myth and subconscious of nearby human minds. Seen as some as a metaphor of the journey into the heartwood of the psyche, the wood can only be accessed by four tracks. Anyone who doesn’t use these tracks has great difficulty accessing the heart of the wood.

Re-reading it now, I am still deeply moved by it. Holdstock captured something truly amazing, primal and mythologically resonating. It still, on a subconscious level, along with Garner influences my own storytelling today. When I read it as a teen, I wanted to go into Ryhope Wood, to see it’s secrets for myself and I still have that urge today.

Read it, if you can, even if you’re not a fan of fantasy. It’s about so much more.


Writing this post has made me go back and re-read the books of my favourite authors. They stand the test of time and still feed my imagination. They reminded me of where my origins and influences are, between which pages to look for inspiration.

One thing that has occurred to me is ‘Where are the woman authors?’ It just so happened that my favourites were men. They didn’t have to be. I just haven’t discovered the women writers yet who weave together landscape, mythology and story in the same way. If you have any suggestions – please leave a comment – I would love to read them!

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Improving Your Writing Through Feedback

As I’ve probably mentioned before, I’m writing a novel called ‘White Water’. I’m about a third of the way in and seek every opportunity for feedback I can get. Even the bad stuff. Especially the bad stuff.

When I first started as a writer I used to attend the odd course in the community and these were great but as I moved on with my writing I found that often they could end up as ego massage sessions rather than a useful forum for learning and developing a a writer.

That’s why I’m so pleased I found the brilliant Sheffield Novelist Group. We meet once a month, usually the last Monday and we critique each others submissions from our novels (sometimes short stories). We manage to tread the fine line between useful critique and positive comments pretty well and it’s a really friendly unpretentious group run by the writer Anne Grange (Author of Inside Outside).


I also find the Kindle Write On site really useful. You basically post your novel a bit at a time and hopefully people follow you and provide feedback on your writing. I’m also a member of a brilliant critique group on there, all writers of women’s fiction, some published. For this, we review one book every three months.

This is really useful in preparing your work for submission to an agent or going down the indie publishing route such as publishing it as an ebook for the Kindle.

Of course, both of these involve the commitment and hard work of taking the time to read other people’s work and commenting on it in return. This though, is an overlooked aspect of becoming a better writer. By critiquing other people’s work, you learn what does and doesn’t work and carry it forward to your own writing.

If you’re writing and want to take it further, I’d seriously recommend you join a group or one of the sites for this. Some of these sites are listed below:

Sheffield Novelists

Write On by Kindle

Scribblers Writers Forum

Do you know another site for great feedback or do you dread feedback? Maybe you’ve had a bad experience you want to share? Leave a comment below and let me know!


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Nourishment and Self Care for Writers

It’s hard being a writer. It’s hard working on your own full stop, be you a writer, artist, blogger or whatever.

It’s a lonely business and it takes a lot of fortitude when you face criticism, rejection or lack of interest, even if that can sometimes be a learning process in itself.

So many of us, especially creative women, give so much of ourselves, rushing about writing, looking after the kids, taking care of our friends and sometimes we forget to nurture ourselves.

I got so bad at this recently that self care had completely fallen off the list of things to do. When I stopped to ask myself what I could do to make myself feel happy and nurtured I actually drew a complete blank I was that out of practise.


That’s why I found it really nice to attend my friend Estelle Keribin-Connolly’s ‘The Genuine You’ presentation on the Psychology of eating the other day. I don’t feed myself properly when I’m writing. Sometimes I don’t eat at all or survive only on chocolate biscuits and tea. I’ve lost count of the number of cups of tea that have gone cold,  so I was looking forward to this!

First of all, she did a really nice meditation that got us all relaxed and then gave a brief talk about self nurture, binge eating and the psychology of eating. It certainly gave me some food for thought! She does coaching and mentoring and I’d recommend her highly!

When she spoke about nourishing yourself, it was a light bulb moment. I realised that you can’t be creative consistently unless you have nourishment, not just for your body, but also your mind. She talked about nourishing your mind with relaxation and inspiring activities. How can you keep the good creative juices flowing if you haven’t nourished your mind with these?

This reminded me of Julia Cameron’s idea of filling the well. I wrote about Julia Cameron’s great book ‘The Artist’s Way’ before on this blog. She talks about creativity as a well of inspiration, your subconscious, that needs refilling from time to time so that you can continue to be creative without burning out.

There’s another great article here about avoiding burn out as a writer courtesy of Anne Leigh Parrish on the Women Writers, Women’s Books Site.

Estelle practises a whole self approach – her psychology of eating is about improving your relationship with food as well as yourself, in order to become your best self.

Her Facebook page is below.

The Genuine You


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How to get Started as a Writer

I was having a conversation the other day with a friend that went something like this;

Me “I’ve been really busy working on the novel..”

Friend “Yeah, I should write something. I’ve got a few ideas but I just haven’t got round to it..”

Will he ever get around to it? I don’t know. Maybe it depends on what is motivating him. I wrote and enjoyed writing as a child. I got a lot of praise from my teachers and that’s what motivated me but when you’re a writer working on a second novel and the first one didn’t find an agent, praise as a motivating factor isn’t an option.

I’m currently working on ‘White Water’ a historical novel and writing is a pretty lonely business. My motivation therefore has to come from somewhere else: enjoyment of writing itself.


It took a while for the penny to drop after finishing my first novel. I really pushed myself with that one, allocated a number of words per day that I HAD to complete, planned it like a  military campaign, chapter by chapter and scene by scene but something terrible happened in the process. I started to hate writing. The enjoyment dissolved – poof! – it was gone and after finishing the book, sending it off to agents and sitting back, I never wanted to write again..

How I got Started as a Writer, the second time around was that I told myself one day, after the penny had dropped, that I would write a little bit. I could stop when I felt like it, I wouldn’t worry about what I wrote and I wouldn’t allow myself to critique it at any point. I would do it only because I enjoyed it. Nothing more, nothing less.

Many writers will tell you – don’t do it for the money! – and they are one hundred per cent correct. If you want to write, you need to do it because you love it. You might have days when you want to throttle it, slam the door in it’s face and go down the pub but in the end you always come back because you love it, through thick and thin, for better or for worse.

Here are my top tips for starting writing creatively:

  1. Just write. Get yourself a notebook and pen and write ANYTHING. In the brilliant book ‘The Artists Way’ Julia Cameron suggests you should aim for three sides of A4 a day. Just let the pen move. Shut off your editor. It doesn’t matter if it’s good or bad. Just write. Don’t read it back. Move on. Over time, like sculpting, shapes will emerge from the words. These will be the bones of your stories.
  2. Get out and observe. Go for a walk. Describe the sky, the road, the trees, the people – to yourself. Take a notebook. Sometimes when I’m out I write things down on my phone and copy them up later.
  3. Read. You can’t be a writer if you don’t love books. Hoard them. Give them a good home. Read widely. Read non-fiction too. Great for story juice.
  4. Keep going. About 90 per cent of writing is fortitude and not giving up.

Recommended reading:

The Artists Way – Julia cameron

Writing Down the Bones – Natalie Goldberg

On Writing – Stephen King


And if you try writing, let me know how you get on. If you already write let me know how you got started. What would you tell people to do or not to do? Stop by, leave a comment!

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Fire – A New Short Story

Here is a new short story. It’s called ‘Fire’ and it’s the third in a quartet about Earth, Fire, Air and Water (the so called four elements of magic). It’s not been without its problems. I wrote it a couple of weeks back and was really happy with it but when I came to edit it I realised I’d lost over 1000 words of the damned thing – one reason I wish I still had my Mac – that never happened with it.


However, I dragged myself together, telling myself I wouldn’t rewrite it as it was because that wouldn’t work – no story is ever the same on two different occasions, the sands of subconsciousness shift so to speak – so I would write it as it came out the second time and let the first draft rest in peace.

Anyhow, couldn’t move on to what I wanted to write next without laying this one to rest so here it is. I’m still pretty happy with it. It’s set, somewhat predictably, in 1666 during the Great Fire of London but it was a good exercise in writing historically and using a healthy mix of fact and fiction.

I found out some pretty interesting things about the Great Fire whilst researching it. Did you know, for instance, that a simple-minded French watchmaker (the French were blamed a lot for the Fire – no one realised that the winds carried embers from one building to other seemingly unrelated ones and we were at war with them at the time) named Robert Hubert was hung at Tyburn on 28th September 1666 for starting the fire  even though he was later found to have been at sea at the time of the fire?

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The Witch Bottle

Here is the beginning of a book I’m writing for children called ‘The Witch Bottle’. It started off as a scary story I told to my children as we were walking in Lathkill dale in Derbyshire.
There’s a place along the route we took which is called Parson’s Tor – known as Fox Tor until 1776. It’s name was changed to commemorate the tragic death of the Rev Robert Lomas, Rector of Monyash who fell to his death from the Tor when returning home from Bakewell one stormy night. He’s buried in Monyash churchyard.
The story I told my kids (we like to tell scary stories sometimes when we’re walking – it helps keep them going on long walks!) was very loosely based on this and is more fiction than fact.It ended up containing witches, reincarnation and all sorts of weird and wonderful things. The story took on a life of it’s own as stories do and I ended up writing the beginning up on Storybird as my daughter, who’s eleven also writes using the Storybird website (and she’s got more followers than me!). I’ll hopefully have time to complete it when I’ve finished writing ‘Wreckers’ which I’m currently about a tenth of the way through. Here’s the link to the PDF version The Witch Bottle and here’s the link to the Storybird version.

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New Short Story – Part One of a Quartet

 The Spa House


The spa house, or bath house, as it is more commonly known, lies hidden like a jewel sunk into the navel of the surrounding council estate.

The estate is gargantuan and red brick, having the look of permanent hangover about it; listless and grimy, yet scratch the surface and you’ll find a soul. Strangers often find themselves lost, retracing their steps over and over. This is just the way of the place. It warms slowly to outsiders, as if taking them in and considering their worthiness but once you’re accepted it becomes a place of safety, a place to withdraw to when the world seems too much. It becomes as good a home as any other.

Untamed weeds curl upwards, thin but defiant between the cracks in the pavement that the council never seems to fix. In between well loved houses with neat herbaceous borders and freshly starched net curtains lies the odd house that has fallen by the wayside through neglect, usually reflecting the chaos of the lives of the inhabitants.

The houses tumble inwards and downwards towards the site of the spa house, surrounded as it is by a small coppice, dark and sinewy. its as if someone has half closed a pop up book as the houses cling precariously to the edge of the valley as it folds in upon itself. The place is quiet, punctuated only by the sounds of the nearby motorway and yap of the odd stray dog.

When you arrive in the grounds of the spa you will notice that there is a change in the air. Tiny, almost imperceptible, there is a change in atmosphere that some folks can’t cope with. Some people find themselves glancing behind them nervously while others feel the hairs on the backs of their necks stand to attention. The spring itself has fallen into disrepair. The water flows the way it always has done, clear and cold from beneath the hill but the pool is now dark and stagnant. It is like looking into the eyes of a dead thing, decomposing, lifeless. The bath house itself is a fairly modest red brick Victorian building with lead lined windows that are now shuttered through repeated attacks of vandalism. The house crouches as if waiting for the next phase in its life to begin, craving action and attention.

Find the rest of the story here

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Literary Tattooing

I’ve been thinking about a new tattoo for some time, and yes, this probably amounts to time wasting and avoiding writing! However, I’ve always meant to get more as I feel a bit ‘unfinished’, and today picked up Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 to look for a quote as he really inspired me to write as a teen – and came across the epigraph by the poet Juan Ramon Jiminez; ‘If they give you ruled paper, write the other way’. I remember having this scribbled on my history file during my A Levels and it’s great to think I still have the same attitude! While I was searching I came across a couple of fantastic blogs of note. Pen and Ink on Tumblr is beautifully drawn and written and The Word Made Flesh is a great one on literary tattoos.

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