Gift Guide For:Writers.

So, As much as I try and tell myself it's not, My birthday is ages away. Yet, I find myself often putting together small wishlists of things I am longing after so I decided to make a Gift Guide for Writers. I think I will try and do one for readers and also maybe 'Fangirls' and 'Bloggers' but right now I am sticking to my initial idea.

As a writer myself it can often get boring when people continue to buy you books for your birthday and so I have put together some totally amazing gifts that will win you best gift-giver this year.

NoteBooks:
I'm not talking simple, binder notebooks that you can pick up anywhere for the grand old total of £3.00. I am talking a meaningful notebook, personal to the writer or something that the writer can relate to:

Comical Notebooks:








Left: http://www.cafepress.co.uk/+next_novel_journal,250249185

Middle:http://www.cafepress.co.uk/+plotting_against_you_journal,254603591

Right:http://www.cafepress.co.uk/+killed_you_off_journal,576204351

 

Thoughtful Notebooks:

I think that getting a notebook personalised or tailored to what the writer is writing about it great:
 


Left: http://www.cafepress.co.uk/+lady_hatter_journal,1180289802
Middle: http://www.notonthehighstreet.com/hopehousepress/product/personalised-notebook
Right: http://www.gettingpersonal.co.uk/gifts/personalised-notebook-book-of-thoughts.htm

Pens and Pencils:
I am a stationary junkie. I personally love pens. Only blue and black though. I often get told to put colour in my revision notes but honestly the traditional writer in me hates it. But these inspirational pens and personalised pencils float my armada.


Left: http://www.theliterarygiftcompany.com/set-of-inspirational-pens-12631-p.asp
Right: https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/117756067/what-would-blair-waldorf-do-6-engraved

My Favourite Gifts:
These mugs from The Literary Gift Company are literally amazing. I think they are a staple in all writing house holds (or should be). You can choose a title and author from anything you desire. I currently want one for each of the books I've written:

http://www.theliterarygiftcompany.com/personalised-book-cover-mug---non-fiction-48304-p.asp

(Available in other colours,)

I also really like these fun writing tools which I think can be amazing gifts:

Left: http://www.theliterarygiftcompany.com/amazing-story-generator-48780-p.asp
Right: http://www.theliterarygiftcompany.com/365-ways-to-get-you-writing-11353-p.asp


Thank you so much for reading and I hope that this has helped aid you when trying to thing of the perfect present for the writers in your life.
Until next time
xo





 



Things Writers Do.

Sometimes, being a writer can feel like being a different species. We often have bursts of imagination that no one can explain or weird writing techniques that seem inhuman. So I've decided to try and make sense of this in: Things Writers do (and say).

We steal:
We, as writers, steal. If someone says something funny or influential or just something that captures our attention, rest assured it will appear in our latest novel. We also steal people. If someone interesting walks down the road with brown hair and green eyes and a mysterious looking scar in their left eyebrow, Without a doubt, It's going to be mentioned.

We do our research:
Whether that's hours flicking through Pinterest trying to find the perfect setting for the fourth chapter or spending weeks watching a television series on Netflix. It's research. So don't argue.

It takes over:
It can get to a point as a writer where writing takes over. There are many symptoms of this but most the time it's where you start having emotion breakdowns because of your characters and where you feel like you no longer control them. Yeah, it gets tough.

Writers: I can't I'm Writing.
Writers: But what about _insert character here_

We criticize:
We all critique others writing even if we don't know we are. We all have favourite writers and ones we dislike. I personally am not the greatest fan of John Green but many people are. 

Timings:
Its almost certain that at the most inappropriate times we will get an Idea. This could be half way through a maths lesson or at three o clock in the morning. And we have no way of remembering it when it is useful.

I realise this was another unbelievably short post but I have been absent from my home for a week whilst holidaying and have written this on my last night. However, I hope you enjoyed.
Until next time
Xo

How to: Write comfortably for a substantial amount of time.

Hello There,

As a writer I know that writing for hours on end, no matter how hard you try can sometimes be unbearable and so I decided to write down the unwritten rules for comfort when writing for a substantial amount of time.

Firstly: Plan what your going to write. If your going to be writing for 3+ hours it is often a good idea to plan what your going to write, whether it be a detailed step by step paragraphed one or just some basic bullet points to stop your mind from racing too much. As you can see by the picture above, I am not a detailed planner and usually don't plan at all but I have come to realised that planning is a vital part.

Secondly: Drinks. It's super important to stay hydrated and honestly I am very bad at keeping hydrated. Keep a drink of your choice with you at all costs which will essentially make you want to drink it. I personally have been enjoying warm drinks but any beverage will do.

Thirdly: I feel like where you write is often overlooked but can play a large part in the way and the quality of your writing. I personally try to sit at a desk or table if possible as this gives your writing time a more structured feel. I like to keep the space around me as clear as I can and have no distracting noises such as televisions or social media. I also like to sit in front of a window with a good view as this can help inspire your writing.

Fourthly- Take regular breaks. Whilst I'm sure you, much like myself can get caught up with writing it is important to take breaks every hour to relieve your eyes from the strain of a laptop or monitor. Whether you go on a short walk, visit a friend for a coffee or even just sit and read a book for a quarter of an hour, your head and mind with thank you for it.

Lastly: Have fun. If you're writing something that you don't want to write its going to get tedious and you're more likely to give up. Obviously some parts of all writing can become boring and we have to grin and bare it.

Quick tip: I find that listening to certain types of music can help you write better. Say if you're writing a fight scene, songs with strong base lines can often help you get across the motion better.

Quick Shameless Self Promotion Monday:
 I just began writing a new book which I did give you a sneak peak of in my previous post. I finally decided to upload and publish it on the writing website that I enjoy to write on and the book is tagged below:

http://www.movellas.com/story/201505170832510509-insanity-is-golden

Until Then

xo

The Writer Tag.

Hello There,

I decided that I would delve into the world of tags and start with 'The Writer Tag'. I could bore you with an introduction that is seven lines long but honestly I'd rather start the tag.

Questions:
1. What do you write? (short stories, novels?)

I write a large variety of style but honestly I do prefer to write longer novels as I feel like they allow for more development but I have dabbled in poetry and also short stories. I have always loved writing which has allowed me also to open more opportunities such as writing newspaper articles for school papers and also have entered many competitions and whilst not being successful every time, I still was dedicated to my writing. (I feel like I just went of on a tangent)

2. What do you mostly write about?

Whilst people tell me constantly to write what I know, I do often write fantasy fiction. I find that this is the most interesting for me to write and honestly that's what writing is for me; for my own enjoyment.

3. What's your favorite thing about writing?

My favourite thing about writing is possibly the fact that its so easy to lose yourself when you write. You can escape the reality that you're in, and much like when reading you can live through the characters lives and do things you possibly couldn't do in your own life.

4. What/who inspired you to start writing/keep writing?

I wouldn't say anyone inspires me to write or to start writing but I find often that I can, as vain as it may sound, inspire myself as well as day to day life  that too seems to inspire me

5. Who's your favorite character that you made up?
My favourite character has to be 'Sebastian Alexander Xavier Dawes' from Belles Dragons. He's really sarcastic and honestly royalty worthy. Everything I wish I could be and he says everything I wish I could say.

6. When did you start writing?
I can't honestly remember when I first Started writing but I started taking it seriously about 2 years ago.

7. First story you wrote?
A Shepard who lost his sheep- I was seven. I was writing bo-beep fan fiction before fan fiction was cool. Ahead of the curve.

8. Favorite story you wrote?
Belles Dragons. It allows me to be sarcastic and witty without getting in trouble.

9. Do you have a writing schedule? Like, do you write every day or just when you feel like it?
Usually its just when I feel like it but lately I have been aiming for about 1000 words a day. I'm ambitious like that.

10. Do you want to be published? Doesn't everyone? I have been featured on Movellas before but I would aim to have my books published in the future.

How To Basics: Realistic Friendships

Hello there,
A large part of character development is their relationships with other characters, whether they be merely casual or intimate beyond belief. A relationship is never perfect, no matter what type, there will always be ups and downs, that's what makes it real.

I think I will start with friendships.
Friendships are the quintessential relationships in everyone's lives so it shouldn't be any different for your characters. The way a character acts with a friendship will depend on their personality.
Optimistic characters will often approach friendships fast, mostly in a positive way, which usually develops quickly into a 'best' or 'close' friendship.

Whereas pessimistic characters would be more weary of rushing into friendships and take a more relaxed and cautious approach.

Naive Characters are more likely to trust quickly in friendships whereas characters who are more careful with who they trust may take longer to open up.

Character are going to have differences; arguments. Though these need to be categorized and carefully planned otherwise they can seem overboard or even underwritten.

Small disagreements: Small disagreements in writing often include: The Character speaking in a smug tone with catty comments and also side wards and spiteful glances. This can sometime escalate into something more but often ends in a cold atmosphere.

Large arguments: These are usually over larger and more significant problems and often includes: shouting, blaming, crying and sometimes even threats can be made. These usually do not break friendships but can sometimes cause periods of awkwardness.

Full blown arguments:
These arguments are often the hardest to convey as they can often sound cliche. Easy ways to prevent this is:
-Only 'shout' when necessary.
-Exclamation marks should be used with precaution.
- Think if the topic is worth a full blow argument.
- Try to stay true to your characters morals

Something to bare in mind-
if you wouldn't personally forgive someone for what they've done, its highly likely that your character wouldn't either
Use you common sense.

I realise that this post Is once again very short but I believe that these are the complete basics of character friendships and arguments as this can often cheapen writing.

Until next time
Xo

I Write Fiction:OUAT FanFiction.

I have neglected blogging for quite a while but not all faith is lost. Meanwhile, I have been extending my writing technique to the first person. The first book I wrote was in first person but ever since I have neglected it until now. I have been obsessed with the TV series Once Upon A Time and in traditional style I have began to write a Novel based on this show and have decided to share it with you.
Please enjoy:
The soft,sickly scent of warmth seemed to pry my eyes open as I tried to keep them, well and truly shut. Peeling the copious amounts of covers that crumpled over me, placing them at the bottom of my bed. I hauled myself out of bed, rubbing my eyes before tying my hair out of my eyes and securing it into a golden swirl, atop my head. I forced myself reluctantly into the Granny's diner uniform, pulling at the hems of it. I grabbed my purse before exiting the door, barely glancing in the mirror. Upon arrival, I finally noticed the imperfections that my tired eyes had overlooked. I peered into the reflection of the already beginning to rust,tray, pulling at the loose wisps of hair. I look up to see a gently smug face above my own, his mouth curled into a small smile. I straightened out from my crouching position, my cheeks warming and my face turning a pale crimson.

"Is there any chance of any service?" He smiled, opening his palm and elongating his hand to place money within mine.

'For you Sir Jefferson. Chances are slim to none. Ivy is out running errands and Ruby is god knows where so it's just me." I sigh, leaning against the counter.

"Just you, seems like a fair compromise for bad service,"

I look up at him from the counter, his eyes were concentrated my own, yet unlike mine his were shadowed.

"I do hope those bags under your eyes are designer... you look like you haven't slept in days,"

"Don't you worry about me, like you said, it's just you today," he smiled. He reached for the pile of blankety napkins beside me before beginning to set each small table within the Diner. I side-stepped out from behind the counter, taking the napkins from within his reach.

" I'm sure you have better things to do that lay tables, much more important things,"

"What more important than you? You're usually a little less modest" He blushed, raising an eyebrow at me. I pushed him playfully, widening my blue eyes so that they were now predominantly white before using him to steady myself and the tray that balanced on my trembling fingertips.

"Surely you two have something better to do with your time". His arms that were once placed gently around my shoulders were now tightly by his side, his eyes averted away from my gaze and his lips thin and pursed.

"Of course." And with that he left, eyes fixated on the dull flooring, leaving myself, still managing to shake beneath the trays. I realised I was still a victim of an icy glare that seemed to scorch my cheek and the carry on straight to the back of the wall.

"Ophelia,"

" Mr Gold," I address him, placing down the tray and rubbing my forearms in an attempt to stop the dull aching. His eyes narrowed at a point and his mouth rested at a sigh. Mr Gold was not someone I, or perhaps anyone could call, inviting and saying I felt out of my depth when in his presence was an understatement. From the delicate tailoring of his greying suit to the unmistakable eloquence that seemed to seep from his lips, Mr Gold was not a friend.

                    ***

Heaving, my hands gripping onto the bodice of my dress, the lace entwined in my fingers. Grasping at branches in the tree, my breath ever escaping from my lungs. Beside me lay the gentle skirting of my dress, its misty blue silk was now torn and tear stained and fraying at the hem. Pulling at the sleeve of my dress before focusing on the gash that wept from my thigh. A warm hand brushed gently against my own,handling my own with care. I glanced upwards to see a darkened face,haunting above me, straight faced,his hand the only warmth about him. I smiled at him gently, however this was not reciprocated. His hair was tousled as he raked his hand through it, the beads of sweat that collected on his forehead, swept away with it.He then moved his hand back to my own.

                   ***

I had been aware of Mr Gold's eccentric personality and yet now stood in his shop, tea in hand and my hair down in a disorderly manner, this was accentuated. The pale green china cup clattered against its companion saucer as I placed it to the side of me.

'I do hate to pry Mr.Gold but I wish to know why you need to speak with me,' I sung slightly, I tried to keep my tone light and airy, floating across the room so that I could lean on the counter. My nerves often got the better of me but my using my other hand as a firm guide, shaking was kept to a minimum.  He seemed preoccupied with avoiding the questions I darted his way, thusly I took the time to widen my gaze to the wonders of the walls around me. Undoubtedly, I hadn't ever taken the time to admire Mr Gold and so It seemed I did not have the time to. He reappeared, a parchment in one hand and a pen gripped tightly within the other.

"You want to make a deal?"

He cocked his head slightly to the side. "Your surprise visit this morning made the rest of your pleas to contact me a little less spontaneous,"

"Your confidence is almost admirable, but yes I am here to make a deal with you. But please, finish your tea,"

I some how had lost faith in drinking anything that Mr Gold had previously prepared thus I shook my head.

" Mr Gold, I have no business with you," I sigh, pulling at the collar of my shirt.

'Ah but my dear," he took a step towards me. His eyes were fixed upon my own and his breath swept against my reddened cheek.

'Everyone has business with me,"

I considered taking a step back, in aid to relieve tension but the grip he now held at my wrist.

"Mr Gold," I pleaded, trying to regain control and ownership of my wrist. His grasp loosened slightly but his fingers were still firmly coiled around it. His fingers, whilst thin a crooked provides enough power to keep me struggling at his side. A bell chimed quietly in the corner of my mind which falsely turned out to be echoing from the corner of the room. My eyes traced the grooves in the oak flooring, dust collecting into its Burgundy washed indentations.

"I do believe she said she had no business with you," I turned slowly, and despite the voice half expected to see Jefferson stood, his feet shoulder width apart, as usual and his voice cold and clear. I clearly had not been listening as I gazed upon a small framed figure with features that seemed to patchwork together perfectly. Her skin were cotton sheets and her hair was a cropped black silk that framed her rounded portrait.

"You're disappointed," He whispered into my neck before straightening up to address the new comer to the room. I shuffled out of the shop, my knuckles white and my fingernails tarnished from scratching at the counter. Quickening my pace, I made my way down the winding path my eyes fixed on the cobbled floor. The tears that dribbled down my cheeks stung in the afternoon air. I continued around the corner, scuffing my shoes at the edges.

"Ophelia?"

I tried to shrug away the voice and broad arms that tried to wrap around my shoulders.

" Ophelia what's wrong?" The hands moved from my shoulders to cup my face. I looked up to see Jefferson. The purple rings beneath his eyes were more prominent than ever but his pupils seemed intent on my own well being. Bringing a hand up to my cheek, I shook my head lightly assuring him I was fine.

"Opheli-"

Jefferson and I both turned slowly to see Mr Gold looming in the middle of the pavement. That was the thing with Mr Gold, he loomed, haunted, always there in the corner of everyone's eye.

"Is this why you're so distraught?" Jefferson sighed, wrapping an arm lightly around my slim shoulders. His grip was tight: warm;inviting. I shook my head vigorously, shielding myself in the sweet scent of Jefferson's cologne. A sharp,bitter laugh echoed throughout the early September mist.

" You two have a nice evening" and with that he strolled straight through us, a smile painted upon his lips.

As the sound of the tapping of his cane echoed away into the nothingness.

"What has he got on you?," He asked, steadying my substantial shaking.

" Ambiguity, I have no idea what he wants from me. If I knew I wouldn't be so worried but this is Mr Gold were talking about, he's not anyone's biggest fan,"

He wrapped both his arms around me. I pushed him away slowly, my arms fully extended. He took a light grip on my forearms but I managed to summon enough strength to brush them away. His fingertips were soft against my skin but still sustained to keep a hold of me. Looking down, avoiding his blue eyes that gleamed with a hint of tears.

“Is it me?”

I winced slightly at the harsh anguish within his voice. Each word seemed to rip through the air as it did through my heart and soul, that seemed to crumble. I had always suspected that my friendship with Jefferson had lured in Mr Gold for some reason.

“When I first arrived in Storybrooke ,” I laughed bitterly into my sleeve, “ They told me that he’d want to make to deal with me at some point and that it wouldn’t end well. And I don’t want that for you Jefferson. Whether we ever had or will ever have anything in your eyes...you need to forget about me because I know Mr Gold, and he is poison.”

A look of extreme perplexity crossed the man who stood before me. He straightened out his back, he narrowed his eyes slightly before pivoting on the heel of his leather boots before beginning to make his way down the street, tracing every footstep that had been made before his own. I breathed heavily, watching him stroll away so calmly, his palms unclenched  and his stride long and relaxed.

Hours later I found myself distracted by the bright and thrown together walls of the classroom that I had once sat in within my youth. They vibrant reds and greens that clashed together like christmas brought a small smile to my lips.

"Thank you for letting me help you  Miss Mary Margaret," I muttered, filling through the books she had placed before me. There was something therapeutic about being in the company of Mary Margaret, she seemed to emit tranquility as a flame emitted heat.

"Jefferson visited me," she whispered softly, sitting beside me, tracing his fingertips over the yellow books that I had pushed over to her. Much like the books I brushed away her concern about Jefferson and myself. "He's concerned about you,"

"Why?" I replied quickly, allowing my hair to disguise my face; a river of light reflecting gold. "He barely knows me,"

"He seems to think he knows you better than you do Ophelia,"

I scowled up at her but this subsided to a loose smile, she meant well and yet my mind raced at the concern she reflected.

                     ***

I must've fallen unconscious as when I awoke I was greeted with the wooden ceiling and patchworked quilt that lay itchy against my skin. Its purple and yellow tones clashed but it seemed to provide enough comfort.Muttering within the room seemed like a distant shadow as I focused on the curtains that drooped, a draping of purple silk beside me. I raked a tense hand through my hair, keeping my eyes averted away from the rest of the room.

"You've slept for so long, please don't pretend that you are, it's been an extremely boring three days and I don't think I can take sleeping on the floor much longer"

This was the first thing he had said and hence I savoured his sweet husk before opening my eyes fully and laying them onto him. I sat up quickly, now fully aware that he had sacrificed his comfort for my own. He raised his hands, reassuring me to lay back down, thusly I did. He perched cautiously on the end of the wooden bed frame. My eyes flickered over his silhouette which was now clearer in the morning light. I studied his elegant attire,marvelling at his neck scarf. After smiling weakly at me he untied the scarf slowly,keeping his eyes captivated on my own. I felt slightly patronised as he wrapped the scarf loosely around my own neck, his hands cold against me but laughed softly as he grinned towards me. I heard a small shuffling around the corner of the room, to my astonishment, the man before me seemed calmed by the noise unlike myself.

                    ***

Until Next time
Xo

Writing Prompts For Writers Block.

Hello Again,
I, like most writers at some point am affected by the dreaded writers block.
The dictionary approved definition of writers block is:

-an inability on the part of a writer to start a new piece of writing or continue an existing one.

I don't know about you, but I personally experience it a lot and often won't write for weeks due to it. But the other day I was scrolling through my pinterest feed and saw a lot of interesting writing prompts that I thought I should share to try
and inspire myself and others.

 

Another thing I find helpful for writers block is to have a fall back story, This is a piece of writing which is solely for your own enjoyment, when you cannot continue the writing that you are doing. I feel like this gives you a fresh perspective of your technique and creativity.

Until Next Time.

xo