Cornwall, Hobbies, university, Writing

Walking with Inspiration

Earlier, I blogged telling you tall tales of how I was going to spend the afternoon walking around the lovely place where I live and see what inspiration struck me with. I planned to write, and walk, and indulge myself in the luxury sights that are contained at harbourside Cornwall. 
And you know what? I did!

Taking routes I’d never known before it was such a pleasant experience to walk without haste in an environment I was unaccustomed to, yet everything around me was still so familiar. It was my own little adventure.
I had quiet.
I had solitude.
I had grace.

I was so inspired I wrote a little something:

 

The house was languid and fine, with a little bit of wear and tear around the edges. It was a large house, with black iron railings and an archway standing boldly before the pathway to the garden. A balcony, on the second floor of the house which passers-by could look upon if they so desired from the boundaries of the outside. It was a grand house, one that distinctly belonged to another time. It was old, with a great brass knocker on the door with chipped paint, yet it still resonated beauty with its old age.

 

Inspiration struck me with joy when I was avidly scribbling this down in my notebook.
Writers see. Writers see, and then they write. And that is what I wrote. And I’m embarrassed to admit I’m a little proud. 

Who knows? Maybe one day that little passage will spark a novel, one day.

Have you ever been inspired by a certain place/landscape? I’d love to hear about it.

Hobbies, Writing

A Feeble Writer

My self confidence is shaking enough on its own as it is. I fret over the notion of somebody standing over my shoulder, reading intently, scrutinising what I am about to commit to page from the bleak cave of my mind. I am a nervous writer, and with that inevitably comes a nervous disposition towards criticism. Criticism is part of it, but hopefully not from the ones I love. I want a critic to be faceless and unknown to me; that way, he cannot hurt me. But words are like knives, piercing and seizing up your muscles until you can no longer breathe. I’m forgetting why I wanted to be a writer in the first place: I used to write for me, but I fear I no longer can. I want my writing to be critiqued brilliantly, or softly at least. Maybe whispered at least on the small scale. Not brutally, with force enough to whip me in the face.

It is, to say the least, powerful what words can do. One day, I want to be the writer behind the words with power invested in them. But for now, I can only feel so feeble.

Hobbies

Writer Without A Laptop

Currently, I’m without my laptop.

(Cue sad face. With puckered lip)

I am sadly without my laptop for a few days, and right before Christmas too! Christmas time for writers is like Christmassy bliss, where you can get all cosy-ed up in front of the fire or in your bed with a hot water bottle, and drink hot chocolate with your mind full of exploding ideas that practically just leak out of your head.
I’m writing this right now, on my mother’s laptop while I’m sat beside the Christmas tree in her little house. (Because it is so very little).
Meanwhile, my laptop is sat alone unsupervised. It is alone because I’ve left it for my boyfriend to attend to, he wants to write too and we’re sharing a laptop right now. Until he gets one for Christmas.

Oh, please Christmas hurry. Hurry soon.
I am a writer and I crave to write.

Hobbies, justsayinghello

Hobbying Around

Hello! Excuse the awful, awful pun I named as a title, but I couldn’t resist.

I’ve compiled a list of hobbies I enjoy doing. Some may not be qualified as hobbies – my boyfriend is adamant that one particular thing on my list is not a hobby. I’ll just go ahead and let you guess which one that’s going to be.

1. Reading & Books:

It really muddles my mind when friends of mine claim they have “no books to their name”. How can you not have at least one book on your shelf, or in your wardrobe tucked away, under your bed, at least? Come on, at least get a dictionary. It doesn’t have to be a big one, just a little one you may have received as a going away present from school. (Nobody else’s school did that? No?)
I seriously love my books. I love them so much that I keep them in a glass cabinet so they can remain untouched by sticky mayonnaise fingers and unrelenting dust that spirals downwards to fall onto my pretty pages; they remain locked under my guard. Straight up, I full on panic if my books start to discolour and go brown.
I may be a little control-freak over them, but I don’t care. I cry if the pages get ripped.

Once, one fine lady Jeanette Winterson recited:

“Book collecting is an obsession, an occupation, a disease, an addiction, a fascination, an absurdity, a fate. It is not a hobby. Those who do it must do it. Those who do not do it, think of it as a cousin of stamp collecting, a sister of the trophy cabinet, bastard of a sound bank account and a weak mind.”

This is ultimately how I feel.

2. Tea drinking:

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Drinking tea is a passionate hobby of mine. It’s so perfect – because you can do it alongside other hobbies! Like reading! (Nudge, wink, cheeky face ;D ) I drink any tea that is on offer. When I’m at home, I drink largely peppermint tea because it tastes so good, especially out of a Spongebob Squarepants thermos flask. When I go home from university, I drink either classic caffeinated breakfast tea or herbal infusions berry tea because I always forget to bring my peppermint teabags with me.
When I go to my boyfriend’s house, I drink any tea his mother has in the cupboards, which can range from peppermint and liquorice, and lemongrass tea to deep jasmine tea. My tea hobbying has become so bad that I’ve taken to going to Tea Festivals where I can make my own teabags, and I also stash whatever teabags I can into my bag before leaving a home that isn’t my own.
Apparently, things can only get worse.

3. My Cat:

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Her name is Mal and due to date she is now four iddybiddy months old and getting cheekier everyday! She is my little life companion, and I will admit that I go around the house calling her baby and giving her pretty much everything on my plate at dinner times. This photo of her was taken a couple weeks after I got her.
She is named after Malcolm Reynolds from the American sci-fi TV show Firefly. This way, she can say her name wherever she goes. If she scratches at the door, we will say, “Who is it?” and she will answer her name: “Mal!” If she’s naughty, which she so often is (came home yesterday to find the Christmas tree was on the floor, with the decorations ALSO all over the floor) we’ve taken to swearing at her like the characters from Firefly , “Gorram it, Mal!” I am sorry to those of you who aren’t Firefly fans; this may well mean complete nonsense to you!
She keeps me company throughout the days when I am off work, and cuddles me next to my head when I sleep, pillow to pillow.

5. Knitting:

It’s something I’ve always wanted to do, but I’ve not yet really mastered its complexities. And I know anybody who knits will probably just laugh at that sentence because knitting is hardly so complicated. But, for me, it is 😦 I so want to knit a really cool hat or little booties for my cat. I can get so far a straight line stitch, but I’m afraid that is it. I don’t want to have to wait until I’m an old lady to begin knitting. I want to do it now! I have the wool, and I have the knitting needles. I have some really nice gold ones I picked up from a charity shop which are LUSH. But ever since my sister’s chihuahua decided to take a cheeky whizz on my lovely, baby pink ball of yarn, I have been on standby with my knitting efforts.

6. Writing:

I am a writer. I have always loved writing, and ever since I was 12 I always knew that I wanted to be an author. And I will be an author, one day, even if that only means writing a book and failing to ever get it published. I am still an author, because I have written a book. With my name creeping into more published works, my future is looking shiny. That at least, I hope. I sincerely hope. My secret worlds inside me are sometimes dull, sometimes bleak but for the best of times they are always looking bright.

justsayinghello

Seasons Greetings! and all that

Hello there,

I am profoundly new at this; I’m profoundly new at getting used to most new technology. Some days it likes me, others it does not. So you’ll have to pardon my erratic ways if I get a little frustrated with this thing, yet I sense that this blog and I might spend quite a lot of time together. It’s early in our relationship but the romance seems fairly strong. Well, that I hope anyway. I can only hope it will dare to put up with me and my pedantic ways of getting used to new things! And I hope you, readers, can have the patience of putting up with that too (if there actually are any of you out there that have SOMEHOW managed to get yourself lost reading my blog!)

MERRY CHRISTMAS,

I shall hopefully return with an update very soon.
Ho, ho, ho.

And here’s a cheerful grammar joke to get you through my blogpost:

 

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