This time next year

A fun afternoon paddling in streams and making cookies with some grandchildren yesterday. The day before it was library story time with the other local grandchild. I am so happy to have them close by. Although I might not have said that when GrandDaughter1 giggled and slopped her hands around the blob of supposed-to-be cookie dough, covering everything in flour and bits of flying-around-cookie. And GrandDaughter2 kept asking, 'Can I lick this?' and both of them kept eating the chocolate chips. Cooking with children is such fun.

What else? I suddenly remembered my copy for the next issue of Bay magazine was due shortly. (Do you like the way I drop in that technical term 'copy'? I'm a professional, me.) I decided I'd do some shameless plugging for my novels. (Have you noticed that plugging is almost always shameless?) I'm waiting to see if it will be rejected on the grounds it's too shameless.

But I impressed myself with unexpected wisdom. When my first novel, This Time Next Year came out Uncle bought twenty-five copies to send to various women in his life. Uncle has since died. I was going to make some jokey reference to the down-turn in sales of my books in the final sentence of my article but decided it could come across as heartless if taken out of context. See? Unexpectedly wise.

Living life to the full - sort of

My latest article for The Bay magazine is available now online if you don't get it delivered - and it is a fairly small delivery area though it covers 15,000 homes.

Last week just before it was published the editor sent me a preview of the layout and illustration for my article. She explained that, Simon, the designer, just couldn't resist the image that sprang to his mind.

I showed it to Husband.
'Oh no,' he said. 'You didn't write about that, did you?'
'Yep.'
'But people we know read this magazine!'

Here's the link in case you'd like to see what caused Husband such distress.

Love is in the air

For the February issue of The Bay magazine I've written about love. For my talk in prison on Sunday I'm focusing on love. Can you see a theme developing? Well, it is St Valentine's Day soon.

You can read my article online here if you would like to.

The husband of the editor of the magazine is the illustrator and he has come up with a great image this month to tie in with my article.

Loving and losing

My latest article for The Bay has now been published. It's a special Christmas/New Year bumper edition, and I think my article is rather good!

The Bay is delivered to lots of homes mostly in Swansea west I think but you can pick up a copy at some libraries or you can read it online.

Local heroes

My latest article for The Bay magazine is now available here.


I was inspired to write it when I saw the launching of the lifeboat a few weeks ago.

Also I saw this:

I am pretty sure that is one of the babies we saw at Cwmtydu when we were there.

Vlogging with God

So 8.30 this morning I am sitting in the hairdresser's when Mark suddenly stops cutting my hair. 'Is that your phone?' he asks.
'What? I don't know. I can't hear anything. I suppose it must be if you can hear it.'

(My excuses: it was 8.30 am; the radio was on; Mark was cutting my hair noisily . [?])

It was Husband who had dropped me off in town. 'Have you got my keys?'
'No. Possibly. I don't know.'
'Well look.'
I rummaged in my bag. 'No, I haven't.'
'Where are they then?'
'I don't know. You've just driven home; you must have them.'
'I didn't switch the engine off. Are you sure you didn't pick them up? Have you checked your pockets?' (I should explain that you don't have to put the key in to drive the car, just press a button to start.)
I checked my pockets. 'No, I don't have them.'
'Where are they then?'
'How should I know - oh wait, they fell under your seat on the way here.'
Moment's silence while he looks. 'Oh yes. How did you know that?'
'I must have seen them ...'

Anyway I was in the hairdresser's at that ungodly hour because it was the only time this week I could fit it in. But while I was there I had a brilliant idea. I know, I know, it's a talent I have. Don't you wish you had as many brilliant ideas as I do?

I was reading an article about Zoella who apparently is something like the second-most-viewed person on youtube. Or something like that. She's young, rich and making money having fun. And I thought: that's what I need to do! Become an overnight success vlogger. 

But I need an angle, a target audience, and who could that be? Christian women. At least those who would like a slightly offbeat irreverent granny dog-walker. Yes, I even thought of a name for my vlog: Granny and George get Jesus. Or for alliteration, Granny and George walk gyrate groove across Gower with God. 

I told Husband about my idea on the way home. He said, 'Why?'
'Because I want to be rich and famous.'
He looked at me doubtfully. 'Why do you keep trying to think of more things to do? You're busy enough already.'
'Because ... because I feel I have stuff to say. And I think I can make it entertaining and worthwhile as well.'

I don't know. I just feel I want to get it out there. I am a communicator of sorts. Not in everyday conversation where I stutter and can never think of anything to say - or say the wrong thing - but in the written or spoken as in recorded word.

People generally have been complimentary about the vaguely Christian articles I write for The Bay and in the past I've written, along with my daughter, for a Christian magazine. (We had a monthly column called The Generation Gap.)

And I'm fed up of being rejected for my novel-writing. 

So we're having a day out tomorrow and then we're away for the weekend (after the rugby final test of course) but after that, watch out, world!

Flaming June indeed

Flaming June by Frederic Leighton

The July issue of The Bay magazine is out now and it includes my article about hope, whether it's hope for a sunny summer or hope for the future.

WYSIWYG

My latest article for The Bay magazine is now available online here.

Along with this depiction of me:

In my article I suggest that what we portray on the surface isn't necessarily what we're like underneath. In other words, what you see isn't always what is.

Would Jesus have played rugby?

I don't have time to blog much today because I've been too busy writing. And thinking about writing. And re-writing. 

The deadline for the next The Bay article is 15th of this month. As the next issue will be out just before the general election I thought I'd do something related but when I'd finished, although I liked it, I wasn't sure if it was appropriate for my piece. I emailed it to the editor for her consideration and she agreed: it wasn't right.

So it's been back to the drawing board today and a hurried re-think. Publication day will be around Whitsun so I considered - and rejected as boring -  the history and customs of pentecost/Whitsun. Then I asked Husband and Younger Son for ideas.
Husband: The Lions rugby tour.
YS: Would Jesus have played rugby or football? Discuss.

I didn't ask them for any more ideas.

I browsed through some of my old writing to see if there was anything I could rehash or ideas I could adapt. I have to say I was quite impressed: some of the writing I've done - at least I assume I've done it because I don't remember doing it - is quite good. But not right. 

But I've finally written something that I'm moderately happy with. It has its roots in some old writing but has taken a new turn. I'm not absolutely sure the turn isn't into a dead end so I'll leave it for now and go back with fresh eyes tomorrow. Let's just hope I don't hate it.

Beauty in the broken

I've just discovered I've been singing a song wrong for all these years.

Be Thou my Vision is one of my favourite hymns and I've always sung the first line of verse 4 as 'Riches I need not nor man's empty praise,' but it turns out that it's actually 'heed not'. Which is a small but subtle difference.

I say I've always sung but, in fact, what I should have said is that I've always struggled to sing verse 4 line 1 because I do need man's empty praise. I shouldn't but I do. 

Which is why it's so lovely that Sean, leader of Zac's, tweeted a link to my article in May's issue of The Bay magazine. Here's what he said: A Sunday reflection on 'finding beauty in the broken' from our Liz

Isn't that lovely? It's so good to be part of a church that acknowledges the things you do inside and outside church. Acknowledges your value instead of treating you as a bit of a joke. 

Back to that subtle difference. It's probably worse that I heed man's empty praise even if it's usually briefly as I am here until it becomes in my thinking 'just Sean being nice and he didn't really mean it, and even if he did I don't deserve it,' and it disappears. Unlike man's empty criticism, which lives forever in my head.

P.S. In case you didn't notice you can read the latest issue, including my article, of The Bay online.