Wednesday 17 August 2011

Visiting Mike in Jail...

Visiting Mike in jail last weekend was... great.  It was so good to see him.  He was pale and he's lost weight but he's okay.  There's a light in his eyes, like he's seeing much more than I can.  In some ways, it was like he was at peace.  The worst is over.  The court martial.  The threats in the street.  The pressure of never knowing what was going to happen next.

It made me want to explore the whole issue of following your instinct.  I don't mean the kind of instinct that drove Machiavelli.  Not the urge to power, the urge to dominate, to hurt, to take by force, to control others... No.  I mean the other instinct - the compassion principle - the one Freud left out when he looked into the human psyche and saw nothing but sex and death.  He forgot about love.

Oh, and with that I'd put compassion for the self in there too.  But not self-aggrandisment.  You know the sort of thing.  It sounds vague and woowoo but it's the root of all good.  Self-nurturing - leading to the capacity to nurture others.  Self-worth - leading to recognising the worth of others - no matter how remote they are.  The thing is - Mike really cares about the child in his mother's arms injured in a rocket attack.  He's not bothered about the politics, not in a radical, crazy way.  He's in touch with something more balanced than that.  The instinct of altruism - we're all born with it - most of us anyway.  How do we lose it?  Carelessness?

The most important question is this: How do we find it?  Awareness.  I know that sounds vague too, but it's true.  Being aware that suffering is a shared experience.  Not a remote viewing situation.   

So, when I talked to Mike - it didn't really matter what we talked about.  I told him about my wild dancing the night before.  He talked about his shoe-cleaning duties.  Ben Griffin was there - a man with a big story in his eyes.  And two others, good men, great men, men who feel things, true things and have done something about it.  Outside, other like them.  A poet.  A guy with dreads and the biggest heart. An older man who cared enough to rage against rape as a weapon of war. 

Compassion junkies.  Peace heroes.  Give them a medal and parade them through the streets.  It won't happen but in a parallel universe...

Instinct - the compassion instinct - you don't have to be perfect to be in touch with it.  You don't have to live a certain life or crawl on your knees to a sacred mountain.  You just have to listen.  I think it sounds like the tide turning on a calm, sunny day.

I'll try and link a short video of the vigil outside Colchester prison that day. And thank you to all those who were there.  And to everyone who has written to Mike and supported him on facebook.  The tide turns like a whisper.  But it makes sand out of mountains.  We think we'll always have war, domestic violence, cruelty and torture.  Maybe that's just another mountain sinking into the sea.  Who knows?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vxazNPBw8oo

Thursday 4 August 2011

Refusing to Kill is Not a Crime.

They say it isn't a prision.  On the website for Colchester detention centre they write "... this is not a prison, it's a military correction unit...".  As if that sounds better.  To me it doesn't.  Military correction sounds harsh and unyielding.  It sounds like a place where the individual doesn't count for much.  It sounds like a place of stern, authoritarian punishment - a place where the concept of 'correcting human behaviour' is  cold, technical and thorough. 
Yesterday afternoon I spoke to Mike for the first time since he's been inside.  He sounded okay.  His courage covering up the fact that he wasn't okay.  He's not free.  That's not okay - especially when you consider what he's done - or refused to do.
There's a t-shirt in support of him somewhere on the net - I must get hold of it.  It says "Free Michael Lyons - Refusing to Kill is Not a Crime".  Brilliant.  Surely Mike can't be one of the few human beings on planet earth capable of this insight?  I mean, he's bright, there's no doubting that.  But refusing to take up a rifle (an SA80 assault rifle, capable of killing a man/woman/child at 300 metres) and use it in anger - doesn't take a lot of brains surely...
It takes heart.  A lot of it.  Some people say he should never have gone into the navy if he felt that way.  Well, he went in as a medic at the age of nineteen.  He studied trauma medicine and battlefield triage.  His baseline was that he was there to heal not to kill.  Perhaps it sounds naive.  And maybe it is.  Or maybe it's such a simple, obvious truth that those of us who think we are mature have missed the point.  Truth is simple as well as beautiful.
I didn't realise how much I've been holding back a ton of feelings about what he's going through.  I've buried myself in work.  The shock of his court martial and the following weeks of intense busyness provided a soft blanket around the reality of his situation.
But every day I think of him.  They provide education in there and I know he's studying.  But there's hard labour too.  And of course, a military regime designed to 'correct' him.  I wonder if he's being bullied because of his stand against war.  I'm anxious about the physical training - he's in the navy - he's not fit like the army grunts who run the place. 
So, all the fear, sadness and worry came out in a flood.  I didn't want to cry on the phone.  We only had ten minutes.  I asked all the mum questions: What's the food like?  Have you made any friends?  Are you okay?  And every question pulled me into the fact of what was happening.  Because I've asked him the same things at every stage of his life.  After school.  In basic training.  When he was stationed on a remote Pacific Island. But it felt so different to ask them because he's locked up.  It felt painful and frightening and unjust.  After all, people have threatened to attack him on the street because of what he's doing.  Some people have even said he should be shot for his beliefs.  There are a load of people who want to harm him for refusing to kill. 
After the phone call, I got a call from the Padre (the vicar of the prison).  He was kind enough.  And he cheered me up in his own, rather jolly, military way. 
But the fact remains.  Mike's in prison for refusing to kill.  What does that say about all of us in this country?  What does it say about the human race?  What does it say about the future?

This is one of the greatest anti-war films ever made. 

Wednesday 3 August 2011

Thoughts on Festivals...

Having just got back from Camp Bestival, I'm in the post-festie chillout state of mind.

And one of the things I thought about while I was there was this:  Human beings have been gathering for feasting, music, entertainment and revelation for thousands of years.  In fact, it may well be one of the things that glues our social behaviour together and so it is actually - an essential activity!!!

Camp Bestival is a family festie with plenty of kids' stuff including craft tents, baby chillout, woodland playpark and soft play.  The adults get to see great bands, listen to performance poets and eat wonderful food.  The children get to ride on the carousel.  There's even a skate park rigged up for older children, complete with amazing BMX and skateboarders putting on a show a couple of times a day.

All good.  Certainly better than Glastonbury which has become too money-grabbing, too hard-edged and too uncomfortable for all but the most dedicated binge drinker.

And however much I enjoy Camp Bestival, despite the hills (pushing a pushchair up and down them is mind-numbingly hard work), desptite the pricey, overblown, in-your-face commercialsim - I might never go again.

 Why?  Because, like Glastonbury and I suspect most other music, arts and entertainment festivals there's a vacant hole in the middle of it.  I couldn't put my finger on what it was to begin with.  And then it came to me.

The soul is missing.

For example; at Bestival, the healing field was right next to the loudspeakers blasting out hardcore skater music.  Brilliant for the skate park.  Rubbish when you're having a chilled out massage.  And there was no - field of reflection.  No quiet place.  No wishing tree.  Don't get me wrong - there was plenty of wonderful, amazing stuff.  Dingly Dell was the closest you got to peace but.... it was about having more fun.  A good thing.  But soulful things can be fun too.

Thoughts like that made me realise that Glasto went downhill the year the Krishna's left.  In the old days they'd set up a huge marquee giving out free food (dahl and chapatis - delicious) and chanting their wonderful harmonies.  It was a great place to relax, eat and be still. Meditate. Reflect.

Now, I'm not a Hindu.  But it doesn't matter.  Because what the Krishna's gave us was the most important element of a human festival gathering.

Soulfulness.

Our ancestors knew this.  Stonehenge heralded the rising of the sun on midsummer morning.  Almost certainly the centre of some kind of sun worshipping pagan cult -  the gatherings would be about music, dancing, poetry (I expect), storytelling, meeting, flirting and all the other things we get today.  But it included a place for the soul to be nurtured too. 

Without that, the whole atmosphere seems - unfinished.  Okay, I can see that the people selling food on the site didn't want anyone giving out free food.  But why not?  People still bought food from the stalls.  And free music?  Sacred music is different.  It's great to see Primal Scream or anyone else whose music you love - but spritual chants, songs, mantras and hymns tap into something else.

Something that needs filling.

Because nothing else fills up that particular human space in the heart. 

Do you neglect or nurture your soul?  I'm not talking about religion here.  Just the human capacity for transcendence.  Compassion.  Acceptance.  Courage.  Clarity.

Doesn't matter if it's nuns signing Gregorian chants, Hare Krishnas, Buddhist mantras, Christian singing or any other form of spiritual expression... it just should be there for the whole thing to have meaning beyond consuming products and whirling children about.

It can be a part of entertainment.  It can be a part of music and festivals and revelry.  It can sing and dance and give you a plate of dahl and bread just because it wants to.  Without soulful living, as our ancestors were well aware, we're nothing but a bunch of howling monkeys.  Which is fine.  But it won't fix the world.





The Wolf in Your Bed - London, UK - efreelist.org Free Classifieds

Tuesday 2 August 2011

Writing an eBook for Spiritual Healing...

Everything in life is always a work-in-progress.  Nothing is ever finished.  In his book, Care of the Soul, Thomas Moore (psychotherapist, ex-catholic monk), describes this work - talks about how we ignore important signs.  Signs telling us that the only work that matters always comes from the inside out...

For example:

You have a glorious wedding day -  and then there's the ongoing work of a marriage. Do you negotiate problems well -  together?  How can you overcome snoring, moods, dirty laundry etc. without going mad?  Is it abusive or nuturing?  In the end, however much you belive in marriage - a loving partnership cannot always survive the storms of life.

The miracle of birth?  A baby is an adult for most of his life - so there's the ongoing work of a familial relationship. The subtle dynamics of family life shift and change - a kaleidoscope of colours.

A career?  You qualify, you get the dream job and then... there's the ongoing work of the reality of your choice.  Does is enhance your life?  Does it damage it?  Is the dream more of a nightmare? Are you nurtured or trapped?  Appreciated or used?

You find a lost child, a grown woman and yet still a precious child.  Where's the road map for that journey? Work-in-progress.

Your son goes to prison because of his conscientious objection to the war in Afghan.  You rage against a world that is still stupid enough collectively to believe that blood means peace.  You miss him every day.  You worry for his health.  You fear for the future of the human race.  Overcoming anger and fear - work-in-progress...

Someone once said (I forget who) "...the first step to wisdom is to call things by their proper name...".  Where do you start with that?  When a builder builds a house she names the materials.  Timber frame.  Concrete foundation.  Door.  Window.

When I approach my life it's from the inside out - there's no other way - we all do it whether we're aware of it or not.  I have to name my emotions.  Fear, squeamishness, irritation, joy, love, confusion and so on.  Then I have to name the places where they come from.  Then I have to name their destination.  And the destination is always the same.  Gone, gone, gone.  Everything passes.  Everything changes.  Everything becomes something else. A dark  mood, a war, a beloved grandmother.  Anxiety becomes serenity.  War becomes peace.  Grief becomes a knowing acceptance.

So, this brings me to the ebook I'm writing about spiritual healing.  Because let's face it, as a wise recovering junkie once told me - "...get the spiritual part right first.  Because if the spiritual stuff (deep stuff - I'm not talking about religion here - just a soulful approach to life) is right, everything else follows..."


Creative writing prompts are jumping off points.  I'm working on a book that is full of these jumping off points.  Combined with the art of meditative freewriting - a playful, exploration of your deepest world is the only work you really need to do.  The rest will follow.


Anyway, if anyone out there has an idea for a good creative writing prompt - a word or phrase which can act as a door or a window into the real world - the world of the human soul - please let me know!!!

Peace, writing and love, Jill

Wednesday 27 July 2011

How to Write a Healing Journal to Recover from an Emotionally Abusive Relationship

A few of you have asked me questions about keeping a healing journal. But what is a healing journal? It's a place where you write freely and openly about your emotions linked to the experiences you've had. And it's important to note that you'll never write anything you are not ready to handle.
It doesn't have to be a daily habit – you just write when you can. But try to make time about twice a week to come to your journal and be with your feelings.
Healing writing has a long history. In ancient Egypt a sick person would write sacred words on papyrus. They'd then soak it in water – and drink the lot!! There is no need however, for you to eat your healing journal when you've finished it. Some people find it cathartic to burn their words when they've written them out. Just feel free to do what you want when you've finished a journal – knowing that each one is a step on the road to your recovery.
Journalling is a great way to heal from an emotionally abusive relationship. The person who has done the most research into the phenomenon of healing writing is Pennebaker. He found that healing writing works best if it includes real events, emotions and thoughts about the emotions you've written about.
Here are four ways to dive into your healing journal:
  1. Use a prompt. This can be a sentence or a phrase. Something like: 'The worst day I remember was when...'
  2. Ground your writing by focusing on a single event that took place in a real time and place.
  3. Use creative writing techniques to bring the emotional reality to life. This might include writing from the senses i.e. smell, touch, taste, hearing and seeing. Another good creative writing technique is to include dialogue. Remember, it's not important to write exactly what was said. You don't have to recall every word. Just imagine yourself in that scene and write truthful dialogue using the kind of language that each person used.
This gets easier the more you do it. Especially if you use free-writing and don't plan out what you're going to say beforehand. This kind of writing is becoming more popular. There are loads of different names for it now: poetic medicine, creative journalling, scriptotherapy, narrative psychology etc.
Pennebaker also found that those who responded really well to healing writing had to deal with some pretty hard emotions to begin with. A bit like clearing out the negative to make room for the positive. But don't give up. In the long-run, if you stick with it, healing writing can improve your physical as well as emotional health. Many of the participants in Pennebaker's studies had significantly higher killer white blood cells at the end of the study. In other words, writing boosted their immune systems.
By writing fast and with an open heart, you'll allow yourself to be both vulnerable and courageous on the page. This takes a bit of getting used to, but it works. Writing out painful memories as if they scenes in a film, scribbling dialogue and your internal thoughts is incredibly powerful. It's both a validation and a release.
An emotionally abusive relationship can leave you suffering from a kind of post-traumatic stress disorder. This means you'll be dealing with flashbacks and difficult memories about the past. But healing writing can ground all this stuff for you – often in ways we don't understand.
You don't have to write for a long time. Five minutes is a good way to start. Set an alarm or timer and perhaps build up to fifteen minutes of continuous 'flowing' or free-writing after a while. There's no right or wrong way to do this. Even if you begin by writing the same words over and over, finally you'll get to the place where you can say what needs to be said, what needs to be heard. By You. You don't have to share it with anyone. It's as though once you write it down, it's easier to let it go.
What kind of thing should you write about? Well, using prompts is a good way to take you straight into the heart of things. Are you anxious about your children? Write it out. Are you fearful or angry? Why? What was the trigger. Explore on the page. Dig deep and discover what is really going on in your head and your heart.
Don't worry about spelling or grammar. Make it real and personal. This way you'll be able to use your journal as a notebook of personal development. Change will happen on the page. You don't have to be a writer or a poet to write what you need to understand. Over the years you'll find that healing writing is a wonderful healthy activity. You might even grow to love it! 
Love, writing and peace.
www.wolfinyourbed.com
www.facebook.com/pages/The-Wolf-in-Your-Bed
 


Monday 25 July 2011

Twitter Guide for Authors - 3rd Edition - The Savvy Book Marketer Guides

Twitter Guide for Authors - 3rd Edition - The Savvy Book Marketer Guides

At last!! Some real advice for those writers who love their computer and want to
explore all corners of the known internet world.
I've only been on twitter once and it scared me.
I know, I'm easily spooked.
Now I've ordered this book, and I'll let you know if it's useful.
I'll go through it and do what it says and if it changes the way I access social media, or opens anything out
or makes me get excited about the hithertofore esoteric world of tweeting -
I'll recommend it.
Oh, and by the way - public doman stuff is fools' gold.  I got so excited about
it in one of my earlier posts - but I've come rushing back from that
experiment to say - leave it well alone.
Writers should just write their own stuff. Sigh.  You'd think I'd already know this.
But anyway here's the thing I've discovered recently.
You know that old creative writing teachers mantra: Write what you know?
It's rubbish.  Instead -
write what you love.  Write what excites you - and write feverishly, with passion and
without boundaries - in first draft at least.  Why not?  Let me know if you agree with this.  Leave a comment somewhere in cyberspace. 
Jill

Sunday 24 July 2011

Amy and Anders - why they're connected

So, Amy Winehouse died on the same day a crazy man decided to kill a hundred people to start a revolution.  There's absolutely no connection of course.  Maybe not.  But as metaphors of the razor edge of collective lunacy we all teeter on - they are.
Amy was musically gifted.  She had the vocal range of an angel, and she was just, god she was just so completely musical.  I mean - that woman felt things coming through the ether from the place where music comes from.  She was clearly on a higher level than most of us - artistically.  The power of her genius just burned so bright.  And however much the people closest to her tried to care for her - it was like she was too - too sensitive for this world. 
Drugs are not the enemy in this case, they never are.  It's the void inside people.  That void or existential angst or whatever is especially highly tuned in creative people.  They feel stuff we can't even begin to understand.  The only reason anyone tries to alter their mental state to the exreme - it means they're covering deep emotional pain.  Not the kind that comes from the past.  Often it's just the pain of living in such a weird place as planet earth.
A man who cold-bloodiedly massacress a load of young people on a holiday island gets the main headline in the news tonight.  What did he do to deserve that?  Why does Amy's tradgedy come as an add-on to the main show.  Mass murder is so much more interesting.  We feed on it - our aggression and anger growing.  It fascinates. 
I turned on the radio today hoping to hear a great deal of Amy's voice.  I wanted to remember the places I was, the people I was with when I first had her album.  But there was nothing.  Not on Radio 2 at any rate. 
Just loads of news about Norway, sad news too of course.  Overwhelming.  And maybe that's what it is at the heart of it, the metaphor, the connection. It's about extremes.  Extreme distress expressed inwards in the case of Amy - and outwards in Norway. There's so much wrong, so much thet does need revolutionising.  But not the shoot-everybody kind of revolution.  A gentle one - a turnaround that means anyone who is sensitive to a bigger picture, feels at home in thier skin.  A world where women, especially artistic women - don't feel so weighed down by the darkness.
And then I get to thinking about Mikey.  He's in a prisoner of conscience.  He refused to kill.  Which way are we all going to tip?  More guns?  Or more music?

www.wolfinyourbed.com

Monday 18 July 2011

Mike Lyons – Another Butterfly on the Wheel Imprisoned for being a conscientious objector

He's the kind of person who'd notice if you were feeling down. As a child he was thoughtful and outgoing at the same time. He always had loads of friends. He loved football, fearless when it came to tackles. When he joined the Navy he wanted to do his duty, defend his country and all those other noble and diffuse things.

At first it was a good part of his life, training to be a medic. He'd high hopes of going out to some far flung place after a disaster - bringing the kind of aid only the Royal Navy could provide. These were the dreams he'd been sold when he was recruited in. He worked hard. Sometimes the going was tough. Anyone who has ever been through basic training and then a lengthy medical training in the military knows this.

But he stuck it out. And the way of life, the friendships, the honour of serving his country suited him. So much so that when he was first drafted to Afghanistan he was ready to go. There were plenty of reasons for him to do his tour of duty. He'd be working in a forward operating base providing care to the sick and injured causalities of war. Most of all, he'd be doing the job he'd been trained for, and doing it to the best of his ability.

When he first started asking questions about the war out there, he got official answers. Somehow it didn't seem enough but he was busy preparing to go to war. Instead of their dream wedding, he and his wife married hurriedly so that she'd be his next of kin if anything were to happen to him out there.

Then, extremely rapidly, the press started printing extracts from Wiki-leaks about the conflict in Afghanistan. Michael became interested. Why shouldn't he be? Soon, he'd be right in the middle of it and it seemed like a good idea to find out exactly what was going on – and why. He had so many questions. He's always had a curious, analytical mind. When he focused it on the information leaked to the media, he grew troubled.

Finally, after a disastrous seminar on battlefield ethics, he knew he couldn't be a part of a war situation that seemed pointless and out of control. He realised that being a medic had changed. Instead of putting all his energy into caring for his patients, he was also expected to be a combatant. In other words, medics were supposed to engage in the fighting as well. On top of that, he wouldn't be allowed to treat certain patients. This went against the Geneva convention.

So did the idea that a medic was both a non-combatant and a combatant. It didn't make sense. Besides, the cause he was supposed to be fighting for was to his mind, indefensible. He had an awakening, an epiphany, a moment of clarity. If he felt this way it could only mean one thing - he was a conscientious objector. A person who objects to a conflict on the grounds of conscience.

The label sounds old-fashioned and quaint to our modern ears. But it's the sound of revolution if you really listen. During all the months of appeals, rejections and the threat of disciplinary action if he did not comply with the order: “...go to the armoury, take up a rifle and commence training...”; Michael stayed firm in his convictions.

What were those convictions? That he was a medic. That he would not fight. That he was there to save lives. That's what he was and who he was. It's what he trained to be. He never lost sight of that.
Ever since he was sent to a military correctional unit (this is not a prison – as it announces on their website), letters have been pouring in. They're from people offering him support. You can understand why. Apart from the fact that he's stood up to the entire Naval establishment, his ethical stance shows courage and fortitude; as well as a new way of looking at the role of the military.

And let's face it, there's something weird about the fact that in 2011, a person can be imprisoned for their beliefs about peace. When so much is made about free speech and the rights of the individual to make informed choices – how is this possible? Ever since he went away, I've been trying to figure out why he's actually in prison. None of it makes any sense.

One thing is for sure though, Michael's heart won't change. Because this was a choice made directly from there. If he'd wanted to get out of going to Afghanistan because he was a coward, he could easily have faked an illness. Or failed the rifle shooting course. No way. He stood up for what he believed in. And for that, I will always be proud to say that I'm his mother and he's a great son.

Here's a link to his support page on Facebook: 
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Support-Michael-Lyons/128755363877582 


And a poem by Wilfred Owen that I learned at school.  It was written about the war to end all wars.  Sadly, it still resonates today: 

DULCE ET DECORUM EST
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.
Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime . . .
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est
Pro patria mori.
Wilfred Owen
8 October 1917 - March, 1918

"Choosing to Be With Someone - How Do I Know I'M With the Right Person?"

To discover what real love is – it's important to understand what it is not. 
If you believe that a relationship is the key to being happy, you'll be
vulnerable to receiving unhealthy love.  This is because your core belief
that the other person can 'make' you happy leaves you open to emotional 
abuse, mind-games, cheating  and power struggles.

How do you become open to receive good love?  Well, you'll need to invest
some time in really getting to know the other person. This is probably
only possible once the chemical high of your first few months together is over. 
Try not to make any big commitments during this time.  Remember that the
first stage of love dissolves after about eighteen months. After that,
it's all about who you both are as human beings.  If you're with the right
person, this will be as much fun as the first stage of love – only calmer!

Make a note somewhere (a journal is a good place to do this) that a person
who truly loves you will respect your boundaries.  Right from the beginning. 
An emotionally abusive person finds it impossible to leave you with your own
personal emotional space. Whatever your beliefs and needs are – whether
they are emotional, physical, relational or spiritual  - make it clear
where your limits are.  

A lover who is real does not wish to hurt or harm you in any way. 
He  respects who you are and will also make it clear where his limits are
so that there can no confusion or unnecessary misunderstandings. Make sure
you can talk openly and from the heart as soon as you know the relationship
is going somewhere.  You should be able to be yourself since  a truly loving
person will be happy to discover who you really are.

Make sure you know yourself through and through.  Take personality tests
(there are loads online) and notice how you react in social situations.
Are you studious or fun-loving?   A bookworm or a party animal? What do you
want out of life? Take a good look at your personality traits, career aspirations,
hobbies, attitudes, spiritual beliefs and all the things that make you who you are. 
Once you are sure of who you are, you'll know what you have to give to someone else.

When you're looking for true love, remember it doesn't have an Excel spreadsheet
of all your flaws.  If you love someone who is constantly criticising you, that's
toxic love.  Do you feel good about your body when you make love?  Or does your
partner give you signals that you're not good enough?    Sex should be enhanced
by bonding, understanding and sheer delight in the other.  If this isn't the case,
then it's not really love.   And if, on the other hand your lovemaking has become
routine, there are plenty of ways to spice it up.

You don't have to settle for toxic love.  Life is in the details and so is love. 
It takes time to love someone, time, energy and compassion.  True love takes time. 
It goes from infatuation – through learning about the other person and into the
reality of deep, loving, passionate bonding. 

Have a look at my website on recovering from toxic love:  www.wolfinyourbed.com

Monday 11 July 2011

Bomb-proof your plot!

Hi eyeryone!,  
Here are the notes from the workshop I gave yesterday at the Frome festival.  Thanks to everyone who came.  If you've got any questions about writing a tight plot - post it up on this website and I'll try and answer it!  Enjoy your writing.



Bomb-Proof Your Crime Plot!
Introduction:


Aims of this Workshop:
  1. Understand 2 main approaches to writing crime – mystery and suspense.
  2. Decide which kind of crime novel you're writing
  3. Learn how to implement 4-Act Plot design to make your plot bomb-Proof!!!

Exercise: Share a brief summary of your synopsis if you have one.

What is a crime novel?
Crime fiction accounts for 20-25% of all fiction written in English and sold around the world. They make up almost half of the best-seller lists. Why?
Because crime fiction explores the dark side. Often good triumphs over evil. Sure, evil wins for a while – at the beginning someone is murdered, a child is kidnapped, a woman is threatened etc.
So, the balance of the universe is disturbed.
Your sleuth then plays a small part in restoring justice – and balance is restored.
Crime fiction is just modern day fairy tales – and fairy tales were always meant for an adult audience!


Part One - Genres within genres - Understand 2 main approaches to writing crime –
Is it Mystery and Suspense?
What's the difference?
  1. Mystery – the end must come at the beginning. Your sleuth must solve the crime along with your reader. Hopefully, your villain is only unmasked right at the end. The plot relies on clues – both true and false. It needs an eye for detail. Example: 'The Hound of the Baskervilles' by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle .
  2. Suspense – fast-paced, an atmosphere of menace; your hero is in danger all the way through while they try to solve their immediate problems and outwit the villain. They might not understand the motive fully until the end of the book. Example: 'Losing You' by Nicci French.

The difference between them is crucial to the way you plot your novel.
Look over your story idea and decide whether it's mystery or suspense.

Exercise : Groups: You and a friend break into the local swimming pool late one night to go for an after-hours dip. While splashing around in the pool, you go into shock when a dead body floats to the top. Worse yet—it's someone you know.
If this story is a mystery – what happens next?
If this is suspense – what happens next?

Exercise: re-write your one-sentence story idea with inbuilt bomb-proofing...
a.) Try using this structure for suspense:
A [lonely] [wealthy invalid] narrowly escapes death at the hands of her murdering husband by [outwitting him], and changes her attitude to life afterwards.
b.) Try using this structure for mystery:
A [streetwise] [detective] uncovers a [murder] that nobody knew had happened, and falls in love with the murderer.




Part Two: Understand and Learn about 4-Act Plot design:
What is a plot?
Definition: Plot is the series of events in the story – chronological or not, which serve to move the story from its beginning through its climax or turning point and to a resolution of its conflicts.
Plot is also why a story happens (motivation in a crime novel) and why the protagonist learns or grows or begins something new or makes an unexpected choice.
In other words – Plot = Cause and Event...



Fast 4-Act Plot design:

Act One: Purpose – Setup - to bring your main character to her Moment of Meaning or MM
  • Setup – in Act one your main job is foreshadowing. Don't overwrite or overcomplicate here. The setup includes
    • Mood or tone – Setting- A graveyard? Millionaire's mansion? Urban wasteland
    • Hook, Catalyst – Inciting Incident: (mysterious phone call, murder occurs...etc)
  • First Plot Point = MMthis moment of meaning changes everything! Often it's just a discussion – a choice about a plan of action or a sudden realisation. Thelma and Louise decide to run away. A woman discovers the murder plot she's uncovered is a plan to murder her. A detective loses the man whose name she's trying to clear when he escapes from jail – and she wants to know why an innocent man would run.
  • Tip: The First Plot Point makes us care about your hero and the outcome of your novel.
Exercise: Free-write for five minutes. Write down your setting, atmosphere, inciting incident and Moment of Meaning.

Act Two: Purpose – showing your hero's Response to the Moment of Meaning...
Responses could include:
  • Running, hiding, analysing, observing, recalculating, planning, recruiting
  • It's too early to attack the problem – it's about reaction through action (misguided if you're writing a mystery or a suspense) decision, indecision etc.
  • Your hero (sleuth or victim) keeps failing in this part of the story. If she's too brilliant, heroic and keeps getting things right – you're in violation of the structural principles of storytelling!!!!
Exercise: Five minutes – focusing in on Cause and Effect: 1. Crystallise your hero's goals. Choose one from this list: Survival, finding love, getting away from love gone bad, acquiring wealth, attaining justice, stopping or catching the bad guys, preventing disaster, escaping danger, saving someone, saving the entire world... or anything else in the realm of human experience and nightmares. 2. List three possible, specific responses to your hero's Moment of Meaning... Think about how these responses might reflect your main character's main goal.
Midpoint Milestone: Something new comes along – new awareness, new information, and the story moves forward and shifts because of this...

Act Three: Purpose – Attack – your hero summons courage and applies creative thinking...
  • Hero starts to conquer inner demons –
  • Using new awareness, information gained at the Midpoint Milestone, hero becomes proactive.
  • In mystery it's wronginformation
  • Second Plot Point – the final injection of new information into the story

Act Four: Purpose – Resolution – all is resolved and order is restored.
  • No new information can enter the story at this point
  • Your hero makes a heroic choice (usually based on self-sacrifice)
  • Your hero defeats the villain..
  • You wrap up loose ends.

Exercise: All you need to do to bomb-proof your plot is make sure these nine scenes promote a ripple of cause and effect:
The Nine Main Scenes:
Act One:
  1. Opening scene – think about atmosphere, tone & foreshadowing
  2. Hook – moment of visceral, emotionally resonant intensity – how would this be different in a mystery compared to a suspense novel?
  3. Setup to your inciting incident – otherwise known as back-story
  4. First Plot Point or Moment of Meaning - a choice about a plan of action or a sudden realisation.
Act Two:
  1. First Pinch – the antagonist or villain shows his card – a moment of ominous menace or complex puzzlement depending on whether you're writing suspense or mystery.
  2. Mid-point Milestone – here the context shifts – what new discovery, information or awareness changes everything for your hero?
Act Three:
  1. Second Pinch – the villain nearly wins again – does your detective get beaten up? Does your woman-in-jeopardy escape in a taxi only to find that the driver is her stalker?
  2. Second Plot Point – final injection of new information
Act Four:
  1. Final Resolution – pick the main or central scene to make notes on first.
Plot Point
Scene Notes: Setting, character/s, events
Opening scene



Hook



Setup



First Plot Point or Moment of Meaning



First Pinch



Mid-point Milestone



Second Pinch



Second Plot Point



Final Resolution




Conclusion:

Plot is just as important as character in a crime novel.
Now you know:
  • the difference between mystery and suspense.
  • how to approach writing crime based on whether your work is mystery or suspense
  • the main 4-Act plot outline model and how to use it.
Keep on writing!!!


The Wolf in Your Bed by Jill Harris:
Interested in therapeutic writing? Have a look at this book and see how writing can heal the heart:

Calls for submission:
I'm looking to publish supernatural stories – with a crime element. Please send synopsis and first chapter to my email:






Have a look through the synopsis of the plots for 'Losing You' and 'The Hound of the Baskervilles'.
Can you highlight the nine main plot points?
If they are not all in the synopsis – make up your own!
Playing with the ideas of a tight plot will help you develop this skill – an important one when it comes to writing a great story – crime or not.


Example One: Suspense plot: 'Losing You' by Nicci French

The story is set on tiny Sandling Island which is joined by a tidal causeway, somewhere off the coast of East Anglia. In French's description, it comes across as the perfect setting for a thriller: bleak and remote. The tale describes the events of roughly eight hours in the life of Nina Landry, mother to daughter Charlotte (or Charlie as she is affectionately called), and son Jackson, ex-wife to the volatile Rory, new girlfriend to Christian and "The Food Person" to Sludge the deranged Labrador.
As if turning forty and having a surprise birthday forced upon her before the clock has even struck noon are not bad enough, Nina's day is about to get a lot worse. She hasn't finished packing for the family holiday to Florida where she and the children will spend Christmas with Christian, and Charlie seems to have disappeared.
The usual mothers' recce of friends, friends' parents and neighbours leaves Nina coming up blank and as time ticks past, Nina realises that Charlie could not - would not - have simply run away. They were going on holiday. Charlie was looking forward to it. With mounting alarm, Nina races from one part of the island to the next searching for Charlie and re-tracing her steps in a desperate bid to find her.
Increasingly frustrated at her own lack of success, she eventually calls the police, quickly grasping that the police are more interested in convincing Nina that this is normal teenage behaviour. Nina begins to appreciate for the first time in her life that she does not know her daughter as well as she had assumed she did. A cold, dark fear seeps into Nina's bones and she knows that she must find her daughter, with or without the help of the police, before it is too late.
As day turns to night on the island and a series of half-buried secrets lead Nina Landry from sickening suspicion to deadly certainty, the question becomes less whether she and her daughter will leave the island for Christmas and more whether they will ever leave it again.



Exmple two: Mystery plot: 'The Hound of the Baskervilles' by Conan Doyle.

Opens with a mini mystery—Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson speculate on the identity of the owner of a cane that has been left in their office by an unknown visitor. Wowing Watson with his fabulous powers of observation, Holmes predicts the appearance of James Mortimer, owner of the found object and a convenient entrĂ©e into the baffling curse of the Baskervilles.

Entering the office and unveiling an 18th century manuscript, Mortimer recounts the myth of the lecherous Hugo Baskerville. Hugo captured and imprisoned a young country lass at his estate in Devonshire, only to fall victim to a marauding hound of hell as he pursued her along the lonesome moors late one night. Ever since, Mortimer reports, the Baskerville line has been plagued by a mysterious and supernatural black hound. The recent death of Sir Charles Baskerville has rekindled suspicions and fears. The next of kin, the duo finds out, has arrived in London to take up his post at Baskerville Hall, but he has already been intimidated by an anonymous note of warning and, strangely enough, the theft of a shoe.
Agreeing to take the case, Holmes and Watson quickly discover that Sir Henry Baskerville is being trailed in London by a mysterious bearded stranger, and they speculate as to whether the ghost be friend or foe. Holmes, however, announces that he is too busy in London to accompany Mortimer and Sir Henry to Devonshire to get to the bottom of the case, and he sends Dr. Watson to be his eyes and ears, insisting that he report back regularly.
Once in Devonshire, Watson discovers a state of emergency, with armed guards on the watch for an escaped convict roaming the moors. He meets potential suspects in Mr. Barrymore and Mrs. Barrymore, the domestic help, and Mr. Jack Stapleton and his sister Beryl, Baskerville neighbors.
A series of mysteries arrive in rapid succession: Barrymore is caught skulking around the mansion at night; Watson spies a lonely figure keeping watch over the moors; and the doctor hears what sounds like a dog's howling. Beryl Stapleton provides an enigmatic warning and Watson learns of a secret encounter between Sir Charles and a local woman named Laura Lyons on the night of his death.
Doing his best to unravel these threads of the mystery, Watson discovers that Barrymore's nightly jaunts are just his attempt to aid the escaped con, who turns out to be Mrs. Barrymore's brother. The doctor interviews Laura Lyons to assess her involvement, and discovers that the lonely figure surveying the moors is none other than Sherlock Holmes himself. It takes Holmes—hidden so as not to tip off the villain as to his involvement—to piece together the mystery.Mr. Stapleton, Holmes has discovered, is actually in line to inherit the Baskerville fortune, and as such is the prime suspect. Laura Lyons was only a pawn in Stapleton's game, a Baskerville beneficiary whom Stapleton convinced to request and then miss a late night appointment with Sir Charles. Having lured Charles onto the moors, Stapleton released his ferocious pet pooch, which frightened the superstitious nobleman and caused a heart attack.
In a dramatic final scene, Holmes and Watson use the younger Baskerville as bait to catch Stapleton red-handed. After a late supper at the Stapletons', Sir Henry heads home across the moors, only to be waylaid by the enormous Stapleton pet. Despite a dense fog, Holmes and Watson are able to subdue the beast, and Stapleton, in his panicked flight from the scene, drowns in a marshland on the moors. Beryl Stapleton, who turns out to be Jack's harried wife and not his sister, is discovered tied up in his house, having refused to participate in his dastardly scheme.
Back in London, Holmes ties up the loose ends, announcing that the stolen shoe was used to give the hound Henry's scent, and that mysterious warning note came from Beryl Stapleton, whose philandering husband had denied their marriage so as to seduce and use Laura Lyons. Watson files the case closed.



































'F is for Fugitive' by Sue Grafton

The sixth novel in the series sends Kinsey to Floral Beach, California, while back at home, Henry Pitts is having her garage apartment rebuilt after it was destroyed at the end of E is for Evidence. She has been hired by Royce Fowler, who wants her to delve into the past to exonerate his son of the murder of Jean Timberlake, seventeen years before. Bailey, who had been a teen tearaway, pleaded guilty to killing Jean, his sometime girlfriend, but escaped from prison soon afterwards. He's apparently been living the life of a model citizen under an assumed name but has just been recaptured and is claiming his innocence. Kinsey heads to Floral Beach, a tiny local community, to pursue the cold trail, and stays with the Fowler family at their motel. Royce is dying of cancer, his wife Oribelle is a diabetic and their daughter, Ann, Bailey's senior by 5 years, has taken leave of absence from her job as a counsellor at the local high school to provide care.
Bailey's lawyer, Jack Clemson, fills her in on the details of the case: Jean, 17 when she died, was a 'problem' child who was doing badly at school and engaged in numerous sexual encounters with the local boys at school - and, as it turns out, some of the local men too. She was pregnant at the time of her death. Everyone knows everyone in Floral Beach and Kinsey acquaints herself with a number of the locals in pursuit of the truth: Pearl, the local bar-owner, whose son's evidence put Bailey on the spot at the time of Jean's death, Tap Granger, who was Bailey's accomplice in several robberies before the murder, the unattractive local pastor Reverend Haws and his wife, and the local doctor Dr Dunne, whose wife Elva turns out to have a violent objection to being questioned. The High School Principal, Dwight Shales, who was in post at the time of the murder, offers some help, but Jean's single mother, Shana, whose friendship with Dwight is causing raised eyebrows around Floral Beach, and who is struggling with longstanding alcohol problems, is less co-operative, and refuses to identify Jean's father. Nobody seems convinced that the killer could be anyone but Bailey.
At Bailey's arraignment, Tap Granger stages a hold-up, allowing Bailey to escape once more, and is himself killed in the process. Kinsey gets confirmation from Tap's widow that Tap was paid to do it - for the first time providing concrete evidence that someone wants to keep Bailey discredited. Kinsey's room at the motel is broken into, and she receives threatening calls in the middle of the night as she pursues the case. Ori is murdered when her insulin, administered regularly by Ann, is tampered with.
Kinsey eventually establishes that Dr Dunne is Jean's unknown father, but Shana is murdered when she sets out to keep a rendezvous with him. Kinsey ends up running from the cops herself after she finds the body, and seeks refuge with Dwight Shales, who finally confesses that he was also having an affair with Jean, and was probably the father of her child. Kinsey wonders whether Dwight could be the link between the two, having realised that Ann Fowler seems jealous of anyone who comes into contact with Dwight.
She searches Ann's room, and finds evidence that Ann supplied Tap with the hold-up gun and made the anonymous phone calls. Unfortunately, she also finds Ann waiting for her, armed with a shotgun. Jean had confided in her, as school counsellor, that Dwight was the father of the child. Motivated by jealousy, Ann killed her, and being equally jealous of her brother's position as favoured child of their parents, Ann was happy to see him take the rap. Her plan is to use the money she'll eventually inherit from her parents to tempt Dwight, to whom she has been fanatically devoted for years, into marriage. She killed her mother to hasten the plan along, and Shana because she was jealous of her friedship with Dwight. Before Ann can kill Kinsey, she is accidentally interrupted by Royce, who wrestles the gun away from Ann, shooting her in the foot accidentally in the process.
Ann is arrested for the murders of Shana and Ori, and although there's insufficient evidence to prove her the killer of Jean as well, the circumstances are sufficient to ensure that Bailey is cleared.


Example Two: Suspense plot:

The Big Sleep begins with Philip Marlowe's taking an assignment to quash a blackmail attempt against Carmen Sternwood, the wild daughter of oil millionaire General Guy Sternwood. While they are talking, Marlowe learns that Rusty Regan--the ex-bootlegger husband of Sternwood's other daughter, Vivian--has been missing for a month, but the General stops short of asking Marlowe to find him.
Marlowe begins investigating the blackmailer, Arthur Gwynn Geiger, and discovers that he is running a pornography racket on Hollywood Boulevard. He tails Geiger to his house, breaks inside, and finds Geiger shot dead and Carmen Sternwood naked and drugged. He takes Carmen home to the Sternwood mansion, then returns to the scene of the crime and discovers that Geiger's body has vanished.
The next morning Marlowe learns three things: the Sternwoods' chauffeur (who once tried to elope with Carmen) was murdered during the night; crates of pornographic books are being removed from Geiger's store and taken to the apartment of a man named Joe Brody; and, Carmen Sternwood has received a third blackmail threat, this time involving nude photographs taken at Geiger's house the night before.
Marlowe goes back to Geiger's house and finds Carmen there, looking for the negatives of the nude photos. They are about to leave when Eddie Mars, a gangster and gambling-club operator whose wife is suspected to have run away with Rusty Regan, arrives and questions them at gunpoint about Geiger's murder.
Marlowe manages to talk himself out of the situation, then goes to confront Brody, who admits trying to move in on the pornography business but denies murdering Geiger. They are interrupted when Carmen Sternwood arrives with a gun and tries to get her photos back. Marlowe disarms her and sends her away, but another intruder barges in: Carol Lundgren, Geiger's gay lover, who kills Brody to revenge Geiger's death. Marlowe captures Lundgren and turns him over to the police. They lean on Marlowe for not reporting Geiger's murder sooner, and he agrees to a cover-up in which none of the murders are connected to the Sternwood family.
Marlowe's job--quashing the blackmail--is technically over, but he decides to continue investigating on his own to learn more about Rusty Regan's disappearance. He goes to talk to Eddie Mars at the Cypress Club and finds Vivian Regan gambling at one of the roulette wheels. She wins big and leaves the club. Marlowe follows and saves her from a stick-up attempt. She makes a pass at him on the drive home, but he turns her down. When he gets back to his apartment, he finds Carmen Sternwood waiting naked in his bed. He rejects her as well.
The next day Marlowe is tipped off to the whereabouts of Mona Mars, the woman who supposedly ran away with Regan.
He follows the lead to a hot car drop in Rialto and is ambushed by Lash Canino, Eddie Mars's hired gun.
Mona helps Marlowe escape, and he kills Canino in a gunfight.
After again settling with the police and district attorney, Marlowe is summoned to the Sternwood mansion, where the General officially asks him to find Rusty Regan.
As Marlowe is leaving, Carmen encourages him to take her to an abandoned oil field and teach her how to fire a pistol. He does so.
Carmen has an epileptic fit and tries to shoot him, failing only because Marlowe had the foresight to load the gun with blanks.
He returns to the Sternwood mansion and confronts Vivian, who admits that Carmen killed Regan because he, like Marlowe, refused her advances.
Vivian and Eddie Mars covered up the killing by hiding Regan's body in an old oil sump and faking his disappearance.


This is a great book.  It's about the craft of writing - all the skills you need to be a novelist.  Combine this with the eye of an artist and the creative soul of a human being - and you never need worry about writer's block again!




Tuesday 21 June 2011

The Temptations of Book Heaven

If the writing life is a landscape, then working on my novel, A Deadly Yearning (!) is the best place to be.
It's a sandy cove with an azure sea and smooth white sand surrounded by Pahootakawa trees.
I don't think I've spelled that right but never mind!
I stetch out on the balcony of my rough-hewn wooden beach hut and indulge the imagination.  Bliss.
But then I have to visit the brazen, lurid, buzzing city of writing to earn some money.
I have to fund my novelling.
And writing is how I want to pay the bills, so I'll take whatever work is there.
So, this city - let's call it 'New Gotham' - is where I have to go.
It's full of sleazy backstreets where traders tempt you in with their ready smiles.
Some of them just want to slice the writing out of your for free.
'Get your name out there,' they say, 'give me your measly article for free.'
They make me feel like I'm lucky to find them.
They don't want to pay me but they promise that one day I'll be able to charge a few
pennies for an eBook or two.
Then there's the secret citadel of Public Domain.
I found it only two days ago and I can't believe how tacky and glorious and beautiful it is.
It's like an antique shop where everything is free!!  Free.  Really free.
The temptation sets my heart bouncing.
I download several wonderful, obscure and glittering old things.
I have plans to renovate them and sell them on.
It seems so right and so wrong at the same time.
But it isn't.  It really isn't.
Once, years ago when I was struggling on my own with a small baby to feed, I used to buy old white shirts.
I took them home and dyed them.  Then I sold them on a market stall for a whole lot more than I ever paid for
them.  Was that wrong?  No.
So public domain - it's okay to give in.  Because in the end, it's the way you rewrite them.
It's the touch of a different colour, a new decorative approach.
It's like shabby chic for writers.  I give myself over to temptation and I'm planning an eBook
or two or three for my websites.  And I can handle the guilt.  I can.