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Rainy Days #Poetry #Thursdaymotivation #Inspiration

This morning as I watched the rain falling, magic happened…

Back to All Hallows at Eyre Hall

I published All Hallows at Eyre Hall, my very first novel, twelve years ago, I had read hundreds of novels, taught literature to undergraduate students and secondary school English teachers, but I later realised, I had no idea how to write a novel.

I had a protagonist, Jane Eyre, a place, Eyre Hall (rebuilt on the site of Thornfield), A time, twenty-two years after she became Mrs Rochester, and an antagonist, Richard Mason, and I started writing…

29th October, 1865

Chapter 1- Mr Mason

I stepped out of the carriage onto the soggy gravel, adjusted my cloak and hat, and looked up to the rebuilt mansion for the first time.

Twenty-three years had passed since my last visit to another house in this same spot, when I was bitten by a raging lioness fighting to preserve her offspring and her reason. My bones shivered. My sister had been wronged, my niece had been wronged, and my mission was to settle the injustice before the funeral.

The sharp smell of burning coal reminded me that there were fireplaces in this gloomy, damp climate, in which I could not envisage my ancestors ever having lived.

My eyes travelled up to the top floor and tower, wrapped in a vaporous cloud, and down again to the ground floor casements, which rose from the ground, symmetrically sliced into squares, stood out like prison bars. I could sense the witch was there watching me. I fancied her slight shadow floating over the curtains, and imagined curious fingers pulling back the heavy dark fabric in an effort to catch a glimpse of my arrival. I had received no answer to my message requesting an encounter, but I prayed she would be curious enough to converse with me.

I took an instant dislike to the sturdy valet who announced my visit. He had no business staring at me as if he were my equal when I told him my name and the purpose of my visit. His eyes bore into my back as I entered, instead of leaving at once.

The woman who was waiting for me looked exactly the same as the last time I had seen her, slight and ethereal, a trembling debutante underneath her pathetic white veil.

She slid towards me as if she were floating over the dark, Persian carpet, held out her hand limply and spoke.

“What brings you here, Mr. Mason?” She asked coolly.

******************

That is the final polished version of the first paragraphs I first wrote in the summer of 2013. I had no plan, so I became a ‘pantser’, for the first and only time. It was a wonderful experience, but it was also frustrating because it led to a great deal of rewriting. I’m no longer a ‘pantser’, but I’m not a strict plotter either. I’ve written seven novels since then, six in English and one in Spanish, and I still start my novels with only four things on my mind: a character, a place, a specific time, and an antagonist, which can be a person or a circumstance, or the best of both worlds, a person who brings a problem, and the bigger the better! I love reading and writing drama. It keeps me both turning and writing pages! And that’s as far as I plot, at least at the beginning.

Once I reach the end of Act I, for me that’s about 30-40,000 words, when I can see my story becoming a full length novel. At that point, I start thinking of possible complications and solutions, plot points, twists and turns, more characters and places, backstories, etc…

I plot as I go, one step at a time, until I ‘see’ the final scene, or end, and then I get serious about making sure it all flows smoothly and coherently, based on my characters wants and needs. I ask them what I need to know and listen to their answers carefully, because they drive my story. I write as honestly as I can. For me that means I let them grow and change their minds, but I never betray them.

And so we come to the next part of the first scene, when Richard Mason, who narrates this chapter, replies to Jane’s question:

***********************

It took me a few seconds to reply, taken aback by her unprecedented assertiveness and waiting for the defiant-looking servant to leave. I glanced his way and coughed, but he stood unmoved, like a guard dog, waiting for a sign from his mistress.

“I have some urgent business with Mr. Rochester.”

“He is not receiving any visitors at the moment.”

“Yet, I must speak to him.”

“That will not be possible. In any case, I cannot imagine what business you should have with my husband.”

She had been suitably lured and was eager to discover the reason for my visit. “I would not wish to bother you with certain unpleasant matters, madam.”

“I am afraid you will have to deal with me from now on, Mr. Mason, so proceed.”

‘They are private matters,’ I added, glancing once again at her sentinel, who was still ready to pounce.

I wondered how much she had already discovered about her husband’s finances and offences. He was a dark horse, if ever there was one.

‘Thank you, Michael,’ she smiled at her watchdog, who unclenched his fists and took a step backwards. ‘Could you ask Beth to bring us some tea, please?’

He nodded and left, not without shooting me a threatening stare. How dare he? Who did he think he was? I would be dealing with his insolence shortly. Little did he suspect his days at Eyre Hall were numbered.

“Please sit down, Mr. Mason.”

**********

And that was when the magic happened and the fictional love of my life was born.

At first, her valet, Michael Kirkpatrick, was just an ally Jane needed in that first scene. But over the six-book series he has gradually become the second main character, and in the final book in the series, which I am currently writing, he is the main protagonist.

That’s the magic of part-time-pantsing; for a while, the writer has no idea what might happen…

Although I wrote All Hallows at Eyre Hall, in 2013, I later revised the whole series, and in 2020, All Hallows became book two. I wrote ‘Blood Moon at Eyre Hall‘, the prequel to All Hallows, and the series, because I realised that many readers hadn’t actually read Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre, and they needed some more back story.

However, if you are one of the lucky readers who knows all about Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre, All Hallows at Eyre Hall is a great place to start reading the series, and today, Both Blood Moon and All Hallows are on offer as free e-books, and if you’re still reading this post, I’m positive you’ll love the Eyre Hall Series. And if you do download and read it, I’d appreciate a review, or even better, let me know what you think by replying to this comment.

Happy Halloween and happy reading!

Lucy xx

Help me finish my #August #Haiku! #Summer

Capturing the instant

I love writing haiku. The only thing that I find remotely similar, but far quicker, is snapping photos. Both actions try to defy time. They capture an instant and freeze time. This creates the illusion that I’m stopping the clock. However, I’m not, because we can’t. We can’t even remember most moments in a single day.

Think of how immense the task would be if we tried to remember every moment. There are 86,400 seconds in a day. There are 604,800 seconds in a week. My calculator tells me there are 31,536,000 seconds in a year. Just wow!

A haiku is magical. It makes the instant eternal. The moment we capture lasts forever. That’s the power of a haiku.

 How Haiku help me be a saner, more reflective and observant person, and a better writer

Apart from capturing the moment I love haiku because that help me in three ways:

  • Calm down when I’m stressed out: I look at photos on my phone. I also look at photos around me wherever I am. Believe me, it’s possible. I hate the travelling by Tube, but even so, I’ve written loads of haiku inspired by the surroundings, as I waited to get out to fresh air.
  • I ‘see’ and ‘hear’ and ‘feel more’. When I go for a walk with the goal of taking a photo, or getting inspiration for writing, I actually ‘look’ at the world, nature or otherwise with the intention of being present. I notice more, and I feel more attuned to my surroundings.
  • Improve my writing skills. I constantly fight against my verbosity. My aim is to be concise and precise in my fiction. Writing flash fiction and haiku has been a tremendous help. It still is. I’ve learned that every word counts. Every single syllable counts too. I make an effort to translate the strategies of brevity and variety into my fiction.

Now for the nitty gritty, which you already know, but just in case…

Structure, Rules and Recommendations

That said, before we start, haiku also have a structure and rules. You probably know these rules. Just in case, here are six basic rules and the same number of recommendations.

RULES & STRUCTURE (these are all flexible, but let’s try and stick to the first one, at least!)

  • 17 Syllables
  • Line 1: 5 syllables 
  • Line 2: 7 syllables 
  • Line 3: 5 syllables 
  • Rhyme: No rhyme. 
  • Based on observation: usually, not exclusively, of nature.

RECOMMENDATIONS

  • Theme: Often, but not exclusively, nature-based, like focusing on a season, the sky, etc. 
  • Present tense: Usually written in the present tense, capturing a brief moment. 
  • Juxtaposition: Haiku often juxtaposes two images or ideas. This creates a deeper meaning. It evokes a feeling or provokes reflection in the reader.
  • A moment of insight: The haiku conveys a single moment. It is when the poet suddenly sees something significant. The moment can also be when the poet realizes, remembers, feels, or thinks about something important.
  • Vivid images: The idea is brought vividly to life.
  • The haiku usually has two parts: The first two lines create a scene or an image. The final line suggests the poet’s interpretation of the first image. This is often a break or contrast with the first part.

Now I need your help!

I love writing haiku. However, I often encounter trouble with the final turning point. I also have doubts with the realisation or punch line, as I like to think of it.

So, here’s my version, but I’ve listed 10 alternate last lines. Would you help me by choosing the one you prefer or even suggesting another final line!

If you have an August haiku you’d like to share, I’d love to read it in the comments. Please post a link in the comments, too, if you’ve published it on your blog.

August

Scorching sun, full beach

August is a wicked month

I long for Autumn

Options for line 3:

  1. I hide in the shade
  2. Let’s hide in the shade
  3. Sweating in the shade
  4. No shade, drenched in sweat.
  5. Sweating, no way out
  6. Good girls hide in shade
  7. Blonde girls hide in shade
  8. I long for winter
  9. Longing for winter

Lessons from the Storm: Gratitude, Resilience and Hope 

Last month marked the 5-Year Anniversary of the 2020 lockdown

It was a hard year for all of us. In my case it came with family hardships—my mother’s illness, my eldest daughter’s divorce, my youngest daughter’s pregnancy and childbirth, the lockdown, and the fear of losing everything I valued: my life, my children, my grandchildren, my health, my hopes and dreams for a quiet retirement. It was a time of overwhelming fear, not just for myself, but for everyone I knew and the world at large. The uncertainty and doubt were paralyzing, yet most of us pulled through. We survived, but not unscarred.

Lessons Learned

The lessons I learned during that time are ones I hope I’ll never forget, although my memories are often selective and choose to forget the pain. But I want to remember what I learned and how the lessons were learned. Now the storm has passed, those who have survived, must soothe our weeping hearts, reliving the pain, hearts dare not forget. I’ve grown wiser, kinder, and less careless with my fragile feelings. I’m more grateful for the life I feel fortunate to still have. 

I longed to feel the warm hugs of family and friends I hadn’t seen for months. I remember the silence—a strange, empty silence that was as terrifying as my fear that it would never end. It was a silence I pray I’ll never hear again, the silence of death and loss and emptiness. 

Hardest Moments

One specific moment that stands out was when I had to travel from the South of Spain to the North to visit my mother who was taken ill in hospital. I was allowed to spend most of the day at the hospital with her, but it was a traumatic experience. I wore two masks (at the same time, just in case), washed my hands obsessively, and lived in constant fear of getting COVID. My children called me daily, urging me to be careful. Fortunately, my mother recovered, and was able to leave the hospital, and I never caught the virus, but the fear was a dark shadow at my side.  

Shortly after, I had to travel to Munich because my fifth grandson had just been born. If any of you flew in the summer of 2020, you will remember there were very few flights, scarcely populated airport lounges, and we weren’t able to sit next to anyone, anywhere in the building, or on the plane, plus, of course the dreaded masks. The silence on board was as ominous as the silence in the streets.

How I coped

Through it all, I learned that we are stronger and more resilient than we think. We pulled through, in spite of the fear, and in many cases, loss of loved ones. This proven resilience shows how much we can endure and overcome in challenging times. 

How did I cope? I walked—a lot. Most days I walked 10,000 steps without leaving home, pacing up and down the stairs and around my small garden as I chatted or listened to podcasts. I couldn’t sit still; the nervous energy was overwhelming. I started meditating and journaling daily, a practice I still keep up. Reading on my kindle and listening on Audible, as well as writing filled many of my hours. Chatting to loved ones on the phone also helped immensely. I watched films and series on streaming platforms and followed many youtubers. Fortunately, I wasn’t alone—my husband was by my side, sharing the same fears and struggles, although at least he seemed much calmer than I felt, but who knows? We all express our worries in diverse ways, don’t we?. 

You’ve Got This!

The pandemic was a giant storm, but we face smaller storms every day. It’s through these storms that we grow. Life’s difficult moments teach us the most important lessons. Life is a miracle, and we are all part of this miracle. As long as we hang on to our hopes, dreams will happen. We did it once and we can do it again; we can make the world a better place for us all. 

However dark the night, the sun will always rise at dawn. We can make our lives a little better every day. We can overcome the little storms that try to spoil our days. Compared to the great storm of the pandemic, these are just puddles on the sidewalk. You’ve got this!

How did you cope during the 2020 lockdown and what lessons did you learn? Share your experience in the comments.

Rainy Reflections: Crafting Haikus in Southern Spain

It’s been raining cats and dogs for weeks here in Andalucia, Spain—a soggy rebellion against our usual 300 days of sun. I’m starting to think the clouds have forgotten they’re not supposed to be here so long! Normally, I’d soak up the inspiration—rain’s a writer’s best friend, especially with a book by the window—but even muses can overstay their welcome, and my boots and raincoat are begging for a break. This morning, though, I caught myself staring at the raindrops over my coffee, mesmerised by the show the relentless little daredevils put on, hurling themselves at windowpanes, ricocheting off leaves, bouncing off cars and umbrellas like ping-pong balls. I decided they deserved a tribute, so I brewed up a haiku for all the brave drops trembling on the edge before they take the plunge. What would you tell these noisy poets of the storm? I’m half-tempted to whisper, “Isn’t it time for your siesta!”

Enjoy, stay dry and take care! By the way, if you’re looking for an engaging historical saga set in Victorian England, you might like to check out my Eyre Hall Series

#SundayWalks #Tanka #SilentSunday #Spring is near!

Yellows, pinks and greens,

Blues, browns, purples and black, too,

Colours of fresh air,

The sweet smell of cool spring skies,

The sound of bright, warm sunshine.

I hope you’re having a wonderful Sunday!

#WordlessWednesday #haiku

Chilly winds blow, yet

Sun warms Earth, wildflowers bloom,

Spring is coming soon!

Go for a walk,

LIsten to an audiobook,

Stand by tall tree

Smile at the sky.

Happy Wednesday!

#BookReview ‘The Second Life of Mirielle West’ by Amanda Skenandore #HistoricalFiction #TuesdayBookBlog

Today it is my pleasure to post my review of The Second Life of Mirielle West, an emotional historical fiction novel, based on real events, by Amanda Skenandore.

Blurb

For Mirielle West, a 1920’s socialite married to a silent film star, the isolation and powerlessness of the Louisiana Leper Home is an unimaginable fall from her intoxicatingly chic life of bootlegged champagne and the star-studded parties of Hollywood’s Golden Age. When a doctor notices a pale patch of skin on her hand, she’s immediately branded a leper and carted hundreds of miles from home to Carville, taking a new name to spare her family and famous husband the shame that accompanies the disease.

At first she hopes her exile will be brief, but those sent to Carville are more prisoners than patients and their disease has no cure. Instead she must find community and purpose within its walls, struggling to redefine her self-worth while fighting an unchosen fate.

As a registered nurse, Amanda Skenandore’s medical background adds layers of detail and authenticity to the experiences of patients and medical professionals at Carville – the isolation, stigma, experimental treatments, and disparate community. A tale of repulsion, resilience, and the Roaring ‘20s, The Second Life of Mirielle West is also the story of a health crisis in America’s past, made all the more poignant by the author’s experiences during another, all-too-recent crisis. 

My Review

Where to begin to review this moving story? I’ll start with the end, by telling you I cried, and I haven’t cried at the end of a novel in a very long time.

The setting is the Louisiana institution known as Carville, where thousands of people were branded as lepers and forcibly quarantined throughout the entire 20th century. It was a dire place where the patients suffered illness, pain, desperation, isolation, for periods of up to fifteen years or more. The situation was worsened by the social and familial rejection they suffered. And yet, in spite of the horror, the inmates and staff, mostly religious nurses and doctors, managed to build a community of compassion, friendship, respect, and some, such as Mirielle, even found love.

Mirielle was not a likeable character at first, and at times, she became even more unlikeable, and yet, her character arc was so carefully drawn that it was impossible not to admire her resilience, courage, and ability to adapt to and even thrive in her new life. Her emotional growth, led to a heart-wrenching and uplifting conclusion, which she would not have had, had she not found meaning and hope in the most depressing place a person could be confined.

If you’re up for an emotional and meaningful rollercoaster, read it, you won’t regret it or forget it.

I listened to this novel on Scribd. Follow this link to see all her books on Scribd. It was narrated by Nicole Poole, an absolutely brilliant narrator, especially because her male voices sound authentically masculine.

You can find Amanda on Twitter: @ARShenandoah and on her Web Page

This is her Amazon.com Author Page and her Amazon UK Author Page

Happy Reading and have a wonderful week!

Beautiful and delicious lemons from my neighbour’s lemon tree!

Ghost Wife’s First 5-Star Review! #Romanticsuspence #GothicRomance #Contemporaryromance #Romanticthriller

I’m thrilled at my first 5-star review for my most recent, and first contemporary novel, Ghost Wife. I can’t seem to be able to reblog her post, so I’ll share the link to the review on Georgia Rose’s blog post here:  

#TuesdayBookBlog #Bookreview for Ghost Wife by Luccia Gray @LucciaGray #romanticsuspense #romance

If you enjoy reading contemporary, gothic romantic suspense, this is the ideal book for you.

Blurb

HER DREAM JOB BECAME HER WORST NIGHTMARE…

The most gripping romantic suspense with a chilling twist you’ll read this year!

Lyra is sleeping on a friend’s couch after losing her job as an English teacher at a language school in Spain. When she receives a lucrative employment offer as home tutor and live-in nanny to 10-year-old Carla, at Rosewood Hall, in Yorkshire, she can’t believe her luck.

Life at the secluded residence is idyllic at first, until disturbing sounds from the attic, cryptic messages from an anonymous sender, and a visit from a private investigator searching for a missing girl haunt Lyra’s sleepless nights.

A panic-stricken Lyra, hands in her notice, but Carla’s widowed stepfather, who lives in London, begs her to reconsider, claiming wild animals, local gossip, and creaking noises in the ancient house have caused her unrest.

If Lyra stays, she could lose more than her mind, but can she afford to leave? And can she abandon her young pupil?

Check out Georgía’s Blog, with information on her novels, her book reviews and much more! Click on the image below: