Back to Zac's

After a long gap I'm off to Zac's tonight. So that meant cake-making, in particular a birthday cake for a 4-year-old who might not be there so it's a versatile cake. Candles can be added.

Younger Son follows a gluten-free diet so I occasionally buy him Mrs Crimble's coconut cakes. How hard can it be to make them, says I. The answer is not very but don't cook them for so long next time - even though I checked them 8 minutes before they were due to be ready. Not very sweet but okay. I was going to dip them in melted chocolate but YS has given it up for Lent.

Then because I had to open a tin of condensed milk  for the coconut cakes I decided I might as well as use it up with some admittedly misshapen white chocolate cookies. 

So my good intention to begin dieting today has already gone down the pan. (Also weighed for the first time for ages today and at 10 st I want to lose 7 lbs.)

Speaking of Lent (refer back three paragraphs) my resolution to write a blog post each day is going much better than my discard an item a day resolution. Mostly because I just forget. 

I'll go and do it now.

I am the mistress of rejection

I've had short stories rejected. Long stories, articles, even ideas have been received with a 'thank you but no'.  I've had nice letters that show that the writer has actually read my submission; I've had anonymous pre-printed 'the editor regrets' slips. Fact or fiction they've all been spurned by those who think they know better.

You'd think when you have that many - and yes, I've kept them all - you'd be used to it. But it doesn't work like that. Each time I send out something I've written, whether it's fact or fiction, it's a bit of me that's going out into that big scary world to be put in a pile, ignored, laughed at, considered ... and finally rejected.

And still I like to think I'm a writer.

I used to be a writer

Or at least I used to call myself a writer. I've had articles published in national magazines, short stories included in magazines and anthologies, and I've had non-fiction books published. I've even self-published my own novel. And written another three. But ...

I've lost it. 

No, I refuse to believe I've lost it; I've just mislaid it temporarily.

Life has been so hectic what with one thing and another over the last months that the only writing I've done has been on my blog (intermittent) and for The Bay (twice). And none of that has been fiction. At least not strictly.

So my other Lenten resolve is to write everyday on my blog. It'll probably mostly be ramblings but may occasionally drift into fiction. I may - I will allow myself to - dig out old pieces and reconsider or revamp them, or, if I'm really short of time, post them as they are!

So that's part 2 of my Lenten resolutions. As for part 1 ...

Item No. 1 to go in my charity shop bag. A bit of a cheat as I only bought this butter dish from a charity shop last year for Uncle who already had another one by the time I gave it to him so I brought it home and kept it in the cupboard. Because it's pretty. But the occasions on which I would use a butter dish are ... I can't think of any so it's going.

This, of course, is after I've considered and rejected all the other pieces of useless china and ornamentation that I have in the same cupboard. I've had those longer; it will take longer to get rid of them.