Questions, questions…

So. Because I am wonderfully organised when it comes to looking after one blog, I figured it would be a sensible idea to set up another place to neglect. This is the thing – I need a place to list the links to my published writing. Now, if you are a friend of mine on FB, you will know how I post links the minute I get an acceptance and how I refresh the page every 10¬†seconds to see if anyone liked my work. What was that? You didn’t know the latter part? Oh well,ummm, you do now.

But anyhoo, I am in two minds. There is some decent stuff I have written over the years (yes, yes, I am getting old) that I would like to share with you peeps. For those that did not know this, I am not called Scarlett in real life. To give out those links here would mean outing myself. Yet, the lure of instant gratification and the need for a pat on the back is so strong that one feels recklessly tempted (is there any other kinds?). It would be nice to have one blog where I can store all my writing work (failures/acceptances/links/demented ramblings/grocery bills etc etc).

Questions, questions. What do I do, dear gentle reader? Ideas? Delurk and tell me already.


Where was I/The Novel/This and That

Aren’t you folks the nicest? You check up on me even when I go AWOL and you send me the nicest messages.

Thanks for asking Mukta, all is well ūüôā Your comment pushed me out of hibernation.

It was not an absence of words that kept me away, rather it was the crowding of them. The novel (yes, there is a novel. Did you think I was going to get a movie deal just like that?) is done. By that, I mean, I have finished the third draft, the mentor has okayed it, the beta-readers have been kind (like, really kind and incredibly generous with their time) and I am currently writing my covering letter for it etc.

I don’t know how long the process of finding a literary agent etc will take. I don’t know if I will even get a publisher to sign moi up. But. I have a novel. I achieved my goal of writing a full length¬†work.¬†I quite¬†like bits of it, I cried a bit reading some stuff I had written (and they were not tears of shame or embarrassment). Maybe, just maybe, I will come good, hey?¬†

Should I tell you more? Not yet, the butterfly is still in the cocoon, its wings are being marked. I do not have a title yet, I am wringing my hands over this every day because I am picky and unsure like that.

But because I love you all, I will leave you with these lines from the novel. Sneak Peek etc etc.

Those that leave you owe you nothing. You build shrines and gather their memories in muslin because you want to, because you have nowhere else to go, because you do not know any other way to mourn. The departed write their own songs.

And this.

In the end, your love depends only on you. Love has nothing to do with sorrow or absence. If you are prepared to wait, to leave the lights on for someone who may never walk your way again, love will pull up a chair and wait with you, for as long as you need.

You like? I am not going to give away the story just yet, but it is a story of chasing closure and the burdens of memories. 

Drop me a comment. Tell me if you liked the sneak peek. Maybe I will tell you more.


– is back in town.