If this fails to appear on February 1st, blame HMRC (His Majesty’s Revenue & Customs) for wanting me to file my 2022-2023 tax return by midnight on January 31st, 2024. Failure to submit by the deadline incurs a £100 fine, which increases after 3 months. Unfortunately, I won’t have submitted the return by the time this post appears, as I’m still missing one document.
However, this WEP Get Together may be about more than writing, yet scribbling might distract me from worrying about unforeseen mishaps.
As I wrote in my last blog post, I will continue writing more Freedom Flights episodes until a just peace for Ukraine is reached. I’m aiming for one episode per month and have devised a thread echoing the 2023 WEP/IWSG Challenges movie theme. February’s episode may appear next week.
My crucial and ongoing issue is editing. Although I have an excellent editor in London, Yen Ooi, I’m over a year behind on her suggested revisions of Fevered Fuse, my North Wales police procedural… the first novel with Sparkle Anwyl. I’m slow, partly as ‘Freedom Flights’ keeps demanding my attention, but mainly as I struggle with health problems including deteriorating eyesight. I fear another rewrite may be a draft too far, even though my UK editor understands my style and approach. Incidentally, Yen was the UK editor of my first novel, Spiral of Hooves.
Maybe I must seriously consider finding a ghostwriter to ensure that at least two more novels are published. A UK journalist cousin did offer to help… but for a price. As for my American stepfamily, there were no serious offers… at any price.
What price is reasonable? Have you ever considered any form of writing partnership?
“The writing world changes constantly and is not without its challenges.” Denise Covey
And my long-suffering wife brought me Apple Orchard tea, despite her bad knees and other ailments. I wish our family did more… but they try given their own problems.
The usual single key tapping continues, but my new pain-med regimen helps ease the intermittent pain, improving my concentration.
My Snowdonia police procedural still depends on my desktop appearing… within another three months, perhaps.
My October WEP-IWSG Challenge – ‘Thriller’ theme – is written but needs honing. I’ve even started creating ‘Freedom Flights’, which will be a collation/collection of all my Ukraine stories.
Part 1 will be ‘Feathered Fire’, my historical fantasy which appeared in the IWSG Anthology ‘The Third Ghost’ and introduced the Cheyka family from Ukraine. However, there may be complications using a published piece.
Part II will be my Challenge pieces on the current conflict in Ukraine.
Anyway IWSG.Remember, the question is optional!
October 5 question – What do you consider the best characteristics of your favorite genre?
I hesitate over ‘favorite genre’ as my current writing for the WEP-IWSG Challenge could be classed as ‘contemporary’ or will become ‘historical’ in a few decades.
My current audio read, ‘The Last Restaurant in Paris’ by Lily Graham, is classed as Historical, as it’s set in WW2… and present day.
OK… so best characteristics of Historical: seamless blend of fact and fiction.
Does that make ‘Freedom Flight’ historical? Eastern Front WW2 and present-day Russian invasion?
As in ‘Fevered Fuse’ my police procedural novel, undergoing revision, well, awaiting that desktop appearance. Plus, all my other Sparkle stories set in Snowdonia are police procedurals.
And my wife and I are avidly watching ‘The Brokenwood Mysteries” on Acorn TV, a New Zealand series with a great mix of quirky characters.
That’s not quite the Crime genre’s best characteristics… almost.
Twists
Whether red herrings, misleading information, false trails, or any crafty plot coils, a devious writer uses.
Used craftily, these keep our little grey cells firing and our minds entertained.
I feared my entry for this month’s WEP/IWSG Challenge would be too late, but then as I wrote this short piece, I realised I had to post today. The reason might become relevant on reading the last scene. As for the theme, I found a Welsh element to tie elements together for Sparkle and Kama.
This 2021 Year of the Art theme has provoked some interesting thoughts – and trips down rabbit holes.
Although this year’s posts are not another ongoing case for Sparkle Anwyl and Kama Pillai of the North Wales Police, I’ve attempted something else involving them. So, once more I’m going down the stand-alone path with my dynamic Welsh duo.
But this time, I’ve tried a change of genre – well, perhaps. Also, this is a response to my editor pointing out an oversight in my Fevered Fuse novel – the lack of personal growth.
As always, apologies if I’m slow to respond or slow to visit your posts.
Plus, ensure you visit all the other writers in this challenge via:
Uplifted by daffodils, two women affirm their love and pledge to fight for human rights.
MIRRORED PRIDE
2016
Saturday, 10th December
I stare at the unfamiliar reflection and wince. Pain comes with the job,but I can’t go out like this – not to celebrate.
Stupid. Some guys never give up easily – even cuffed.
Does it matter how I look? I purse my lips. Perhaps. I’m not vain, but tonight is special.
I reach for the makeup bag. Should I use some yellow concealer to hide my black eye? The icepack helped, but it’s still obvious. People might jump to the wrong conclusion. Abusive partner.
My fingers touch the slash on my cheek. Is a scar a turn off or a mark of courage?
Will Kama care? My whisper echoes round our bedroom.
“Of course not, cariad.” Kama replies in the doorway. I swivel and smile as she walks over, then kisses me softly. “You’re beautiful whatever happens.”
Then she sits down beside me at the vanity table.She traces the cut, then my nose. “At least, he didn’t break your mischievous feature.” She continues caressing my face.
The perfect excuse for my own daring exploration for hidden pleasure.
“Leave something for later. We need to get dressed up not down. After dinner antics are best.”
“Haven’t we always eaten first.” I slow my teasing hands, then add, “We never break the rules.”
“Except speeding on our bikes. That’s an unbroken addiction.”
Motorbikes brought us together nearly five years earlier – as did crime and our first case together.
I let our lips meet, and I enjoy the taste of minty cardamom. Long and lingering, and then I ask, “Do you ever regret the life we lead?”
“Never. I’m proud to be your partner. Both as a wife and a cop. You have doubts?”
“No longer, chellam. I admit my heart has wavered – doubt can be a mischievous trickster – was once. But we’ve proved ourselves as women, as lovers, and as crime busters.”
Kama clasps my hands. “Now we can be open with our pride, despite the risks.”
“Risk is our adrenaline and will be forever. And there are tests ahead, but we have each other. Still, I’m covering up these blemishes before we go out.”
“The table is booked for eight so I can pamper myself too. And then I’ve a present for us downstairs. Seasonal light for the cottage.”
A floral feast fills our front room. Dozens of displays of daffodils, not yellow but white blooms.
Kama beams with the flowers. “It may be eleven weeks until St David’s Day on March 1st, but why wait until our Welsh National Holiday?”
“Paperwhites – I love these daffodils. Perfect Christmas light bringers.”
“And I bought some bulbs to plant for the Spring as well. Plus, I added some which might flower on New Year’s Day. Those bring good fortune according to Chinese legend.”
“A bonus – even if having each other is our valuable destiny already.”
“I’ll echo that sentiment, cariad.”
***
We arrive on time at the Italian trattoria to celebrate and ‘Stand up for someone’s rights’ on a day when we are lucky to be in Wales.
When our cocktails arrive, I toast all those who fight for justice. “Not just on Human Rights Day but at every moment, chellam.”
“And together, we can take a stand for more humanity.”
On the wall behind, the face of Caravaggio’s Narcissus looks down through his pool of water at us and the vase of paperwhites on our table.
Well, despite destroying the original version of my October/Halloween WEP/IWSG challenge – accidentally – I managed to recall enough for another version. Only my wife read/heard the original, so might sense where this differs. We didn’t tempt fate by re-reading this version. Please note, she wasn’t the one who destroyed the earlier draft – unlike Fanny Stevenson’s response to her husband’s creation:
I’m not saying my short is comparable to the famous novel, but reading this article, I see a few echoes – or maybe not.
Anyway, this 2021 Year of the Art theme continues to provoke some interesting thoughts – and tempts me down rabbit holes. One of those arose from an interesting link on the WEP site – more on that at the end.
Although this year’s posts are not another ongoing case for Sparkle Anwyl and Kama Pillai of the North Wales Police, I’ve attempted something else involving them. So, once more I’m going down the stand-alone path with my dynamic Welsh duo.
But this time, I’ve tried a change of genre – well, perhaps.
As always, apologies if I’m slow to respond or slow to visit your posts.
Plus, ensure you visit all the other writers in this challenge via:
A detective confronts a deadly foe in the mist to save her wife from Death.
(Or for those familiar with the dynamic duo: ‘Sparkle confronts a deadly foe in the mist to save Kama from Death.)
VULPINE MIST
2016
Monday, 31st October
I jerk awake. A shriek pierces the darkness.
Relax. Just a fox howl. A vixen calling for a mate.
Wrong season as cubs now hunt alone.
The wail is almost human. A cry for help?
I turn to Kama, but she’s gone again. Only the curled indent beside me and her scent of vanilla and bergamot remain.
She must be wandering in our family home, Tyn-y-llyn, nestled in the Snowdonia mountains.
I creep downstairs, searching for Kama. I whisper her name. Only an echo from the gloom. No answer.
Call louder but I mustn’t wake the family.
But nobody stirs. My thorny rose tattoo prickles. I search every room – no Gwawr, nor mam, nor my grandparents Gwyneth and Hywel Pugh. Nobody.
I’m alone.
A sigh from outside. “Fy ngwraig! Fy ngwraig!”.
Who’s calling ‘My wife! My wife!’ in the night? The voice sounds female. But not Kama’s sultry tones. Where is she?
Fog slithers under the front door, yet I’m drawn outside to the farm.
Tattoos jangle as the mist welcome me with cold embrace, clutching for my heart.
“Kama – where are you?” My shout recoils off the billowing barrier.
A chill as folk memories uncurl. A cyhyraeth is stalking the darkness, its disembodied wail sounding before a person’s death. Invisible but unyielding.
Who is it after?
Kama. My wife mustn’t die. I can save her.
I grope my way towards our llyn, where we swim and relax. But the pastures are overgrown with brambles. I must reach the safety of our lake.
More moaning. Closer.
“Fy ngwraig! Fy ngwraig!”
I shudder as thorns rip my skin. ‘My wife! My wife!’ is the summons of Gwrach-y-Rhibyn. The monstrous Hag of the Mist claims Kama. Never. She’s mine and I am hers – forever and eternity.
Fighting my way through the thicket, I follow the groans, now interspersed with cackles. At the stream feeding our deep waters, I confront my deathly foe.
The Hag washes her hands, polluting our pure brook. Her unkempt hair hangs around her wizened body. Withered arms widen and skeletal hands beckon. As a harpy, she hovers on leathery wings, and bares long black teeth dripping with gore. My heart pounds as I face this grim corpse of doom.
No sign of Kama. She’s safe – somewhere.
Gwrach-y-Rhibyn shimmers in the swirling mist. And morphs into a flame haired woman, beautiful with luxuriant locks falling over her revealing red dress.
A gust of wind shifts my vision. Kama is in this sensuous siren’s embrace, her head nestled between the seductress’s naked breasts. My wife moans, aroused. I’ve lost my skilful lover to this sultry temptress.
Tears well as rosy lips kiss Kama’s neck. Fangs glisten in the moonlight, dripping with blood – the life-force of my soulmate.
The vulpine shape-shifter laughs – howling as she licks her bloody mouth.
“Love and Pain”
The mist turns to dense blackness. Kama becomes a man – in the arms of a scarlet haired woman. Then everything freezes.
No sounds. No movement. I stare at the Vampire painting.
The canvas creeps towards me. Creaks and cracks – closing.
Behind, I hear a sibilant sigh, rising to a shriek.
I turn and face another painting – The Scream.
Munch’s master creations curl in on me. Trapping me. Sucking in the air, stifling me.
I scream – silently.
And wake entwined in Kama’s arms. Her lips are on my neck.
Our jackdaw trickster, Negesydd taps at the window banishing the Nos Galan Gaeaf spirits. Halloween is buried – for another year.
Sunbeams dance as we caress each other.
From our beach, the sough of the surf carries on the sea breeze, the salt scent tempting us outside to swim.
623 words FCA
I mentioned a rabbit hole, and from The Scream prompt, I was led to Edvard Munch’s Vampire painting: https://www.edvardmunch.org/vampire.jsp. Reading this gave me my climactic scene – including that last piece of suggestive dialogue, “Love and Pain”.
As for December’s Challenge – Narcissus – my mind is already pursuing that one down a burrow. Google, isn’t a daffodil – the Welsh national flower – a narcissus? Tune in next time for the answer.
Finally, for those wondering about my first Sparkle & Kama novel – Fevered Fuse – I managed to collate the feedback from my stalwart beta readers. The manuscript is now with my editor, who helped get Spiral of Hooves published.
Although my search for a co-author ran into problems – primarily financial – I reassessed how best to edit Fevered Fuse, and stay sane. Last year, I’d been using Fictionaryto edit the manuscript, as it helped me deal with even the fine detail – down to the weather and the scene opening/closing types. The programme/software is exceptional, and I recommend Fictionary, especially as sorting out my convoluted/twisted plotline was simplified using it. However, due to my health, I felt I was trudging through mud with no end in sight. So, I collapsed.
I realised the best approach was working through the invaluable beta readers’ comments – thanks Dawn Ostlund, Rebecca Douglas, and Toi Thomas for fantastic feedback. I’d already used their guidance to improve the plotline, and I’m now focusing on other elements – a few scenes/issues each day. Slow and steady, I’m walking the line towards completion.
The next step is the professional editing, which I’m getting quotes for – a) substantive/developmental; b). Copy edit. First, from the London-based editor friend who nursed Spiral of Hoovesto publication, and second, from a Welsh-born editor-author friend working with a small UK press, Crooked Cat / Darkstroke Books. If anyone else wants to throw their editing cap/quote in the ring, let me know.
Anyway, on to the monthly question, which I’ll attempt answering, so please prepare for more weird thoughts.
Okay, here goes.
Well, first I must thank the Ninja Captain, Alex J. Cavanaugh for all he does – and thanks for creating the Insecure Writer’s Support Group without whom my writing would be non-existent…and March’s post might have been ‘farewell’.
Second, my thanks to all those whose encouraging comments ensure I scribble onwards. Apologies for failing to reply to every comment recently. I try at least to press ‘like’ when I’ve read them. Maybe I’ll attempt an all-inclusive answer sometime.
Anyway, don’t forget to visit more active writers via the IWSG site, and to read better answers to this month’s challenging question.
Although the question is optional, I’m again tempted to answer.
October 6 question – In your writing, where do you draw the line, with either topics or language?
A: When I feel my readers will stop turning the page.
For you, I know I’d even try to turn the tide
Because you’re mine, I walk the line
Okay, that was the cryptic answer.
First, I avoid ‘horror’ although that’s because it’s not my genre -although I’ve written one or two ghostly tales.
However, within my own genres, I try to avoid writing too bloody or graphic crime scenes, although the suggestions might be there – as in cruelty to animals:
Same goes for erotic scenes – I write suggestive encounters, but not as overt as in some romance novels I’ve recently listened to. Although there are readers who still balk at my ‘sex scenes’. One critic, a Mormon, took exception to the restrained encounters in Spiral of Hooves…and to my foul language.
Seems even though I heard the F-curse often used by horsey people, it is unacceptable. Guess someone hadn’t heard Royalty swear like a trooper.
How can I be repetitive asking you to agree these guys are the best? Well, they are – especially as they all have concerns, fears, and insecurities. But they struggle on, so ticker-tape applause for all of them – plus toasts with the best brew available.
Purpose of IWSG: To share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds!
Every month, we announce a question that members can answer in their IWSG post. These questions may prompt you to share advice, insight, a personal experience or story. Include your answer to the question in your IWSG post or let it inspire your post if you are struggling with something to say.
Posting: The first Wednesday of every month is officially Insecure Writer’s Support Group day. Post your thoughts on your own blog. Talk about your doubts and the fears you you have conquered. Discuss your struggles and triumphs. Offer a word of encouragement for others who are struggling. Visit others in the group and connect with your fellow writer – aim for a dozen new people each time – and return comments. This group is all about connecting!
Let’s rock the neurotic writing world!
Our Twitter handle is @TheIWSG and hashtag is #IWSG.
Every month, we announce a question that members can answer in their IWSG post. These questions may prompt you to share advice, insight, a personal experience, or story. Include your answer to the question in your IWSG post or let it inspire your post if you are struggling with something.
For more on the IWSG monthly post and links to other participants visit:
My apologies for the late appearance of Post IV in this year’s WEP/IWSG challenge – the Year of the Art. My first Covid-19 vaccine knocked me sideways and I’m still recovering – and dreading the second one.
Although this year’s posts are not another ongoing case for Sparkle Anwyl and Kama Pillai of the North Wales Police, I’ve attempted something else involving them.
So, once more I’m going down the stand-alone path with my dynamic Welsh duo.
As always, apologies if I’m slow to respond or slow to visit your posts.
Plus, ensure you visit all the other writers in this challenge via:
This shadow is ideal. Perfect for surveillance without drawing attention to ourselves.
Jeans, sweatshirts, and suede jackets ensure Kama and I merge into the crowd gathered in the hall.
The debate has been civil, although the candidates have all made it clear where they stand on Europe.
In versus out. Vocal arguments with tinges of indecision.
But no sign of the anticipated public order threats – yet.
A smartly dressed man in a pale suit smiles at the gathering, pleads with weaving gestures. “We’re British, we’re not European. One language ensures we remain the United Kingdom. Do you want to be ruled by other nations? Forced to speak other languages? We must reject their unjust directives.”
The Green candidate appeals for calm as several people shout from the audience, pointing at the outspoken man.
I turn to Kama. “He’s deliberately provoking us – the Welsh.”
“He’s the intended target – supposedly. Watch for trouble. He’s setting himself up for attacks.”
Two young women leap up, dressed in our norm of black leathers, and shout – in Welsh. “You’re the invader forcing us to accept your rule – talk your language.”
“Speak English, please, not your foreign gibberish. Nobody can understand you. We don’t have translators here like the European Parliament.”
Another candidate, the woman from Plaid Cymru stands and asks first in Welsh. “Stand if you understood these sisters.” Then as almost everyone stands, she adds in English. “Our Brexit colleague has the right of free speech…” She pauses, then continues, “But not the right to claim his language should dominate us. Cenedl heb iaith, cenedl heb galon.”
“My apologies. However, isn’t the law upheld in English. What do my seated friends say?”
Before Kama or I can correct his legal presumption as officers who caution bi-lingually, some seated guys leap to their feet.
They mask their faces as they throw projectiles at the dais and into the crowd.
Flour bombs explode.
“Not just flour.” I choke as Kama shoves a scarf on my mouth.
“Tear gas. We need to protect the bigot.”
“Unless he planned this evening.” Blinded by flour and tears,we stumble towards the platform.
No sign of the candidate. Abducted or scarpered?
We keep searching amidst the confusion. No sign of him or the masked bombers.
Image: Bert Kaufmann/Adam Walker
Monday, 12th May
A bolt hole for a scared politician? Or for a devious one?
But the campaign office echoes others I’ve seen. Diligent drones. Harassed helpers. Flyers and posters everywhere. Clicking keyboards.
“Morning officer. Have you arrested those protesters? The ones trying to challenge my freedom of speech?” The instigator ignores my initial attempt to reply and ploughs on. “Flour bombs and tear gas are offensive weapons—”
“We have a couple of protestors in custody.”
He smiles, continuing to ignore the plain clothes officer beside me – Kama. Did he see us at the meeting – together? And standing with the other Welsh speakers? Obviously not.
“Is this one of them? Come to apologise?”
Kama produces her warrant card. “I was hoping you could answer a few questions as I’m leading the investigation. Provoking unlawful violence is a serious offence under the 1986 Public Order Act. A person guilty of such an offence could face imprisonment for six months or a hefty fine. Shall we talk here or have you a separate office, please?”
His demeanour and voice waver. “Well, um… You’d better follow me…officers. Anything to help…resolve any misunderstanding.”
His office is spacious and uncluttered, except for the electoral material promoting his attempt at election in ten days.
He sits behind his desk, waving us to the seats on the other side.
The desk is meant to be formidable and intimidating. But Kama has dented his defences already.
“Those hooligans misunderstood. I have the right to say what I believe – as do they. But throwing an offensive missile must be a crime—”
“As is orchestrating this event. The statements from your supporters make it clear what you intended—”
“My supporters? You must be mistaken. Those were Welsh Nationalists – they deliberately attacked me. My human rights were violated, as they have been throughout this campaign. Abuse, slander, and lies.”
Kama smiles, then turns to me. “Did the flour bombers speak any Welsh, PC Anwyl?”
“Only a few badly constructed and pronounced curses. But they declared their allegiance to a British nationalist cause – like yours, sir.” Then, I give him the statutory caution and warning against further incitement to violence and electoral fraud, adding, “Or we will be obliged to report you to the relevant European authorities.”
He leans forward, but his threatening gesture is empty. “I don’t recognise that authority, but I will prove the people are on my side at the polls. Trust me. Thank you, ladies.”
Dismissed, we stand, satisfied the press coverage of the incident will undermine his chances.
As we leave his bolt hole, I notice a framed print on his wall. Norman Rockwell’s famous “Freedom of Speech” painting. I point at the print, then turn back towards our English fanatic.
“Free Speech – a right none of us should abuse. And to close the debate, I’ll add, Cenedl heb iaith, cenedl heb galon – meaning, ‘A nation without language is a nation without heart’. Remember that.”
The ‘Freedom of Speech’ prompt triggered thoughts about political hustings in England and Wales as I was involved on the fringes of politics for decades.
As I said in my last WEP/IWSG Challenge post, conservation and environmental threats have concerned me for decades – peace issues included. I was a member of the Green Party for years, involved in various elections – once as a candidate – and worked with Green politicians in other countries, including some elected members of parliaments (Mps and MEPs).
In this fictional scenario, I envisaged the provocative right-wing candidate losing – and in reality, the most extreme candidates did lose. But sadly, in my opinion, Britain later left the European Union. Although green in my beliefs, I voted in 2014 for the Plaid candidate, Jill Evans as she was an effective MEP and an active member of the Green / European Free Alliance (EFA) Group.
Writing Wings 