Lost Apostrophe – the Diary of a Writing Group
by Rosalie Warren
Genre: Drama
Swearwords: None.
Description: EPISODE SIXTEEN: February 2015 – Corinna
Swearwords: None.
Description: EPISODE SIXTEEN: February 2015 – Corinna
Another Apostrophe meeting. Not as good as the last, which isn’t saying much. What’s wrong with these people? Every one of them looked as miserable as a… God, I can’t be assed to find a simile just now. Miserable, anyway. Plus half of them were sniffling so I’ve almost certainly caught a cold.
Tony with the red-gold hair – his presence cheered me up a bit – especially when he asked me about my publishing. Writes satirical comedy, he says. Sent it to a few places, no joy – would I recommend he had a go for himself? I, of course, said yes, and even offered, a little mischievously, to give him a hand. Looked at me sharply when I said that. Suspect he’ but I didn’t respond. If Tony wants any more from me than a bit of publishing advice, he’ll have to work for it.
I read another excerpt from Miss Mirabelle. Included all the saucy bits, no censorship. When I got to the group sex, Julianne turned puce again, but I’m getting used to that. I’m more concerned about Eva – she’s one of those religious types – possibly Pentecostal. The kind that makes complaints, or invites their pastor to come and pray for you, to exorcise the spirit of lust or concu-wotsit or whatever they think’s got you in its grip. Not sure I’m quite ready for that, though it might make a good episode for Mirabelle, especially if she manages to seduce the pastor… God, I need to write this down.
Anyway, when I’d done my reading and everyone had coughed and Katy had said how lovely it was (lovely? There’s something wrong with that woman) and no one else had volunteered to read, I came out with my idea. The Midsummer Writers (apostrophe optional) Retreat. Which I offered to organise – readings, speakers, discussion groups, competitions, accommodation, everything. Though they’d have to pay for it, of course. Told them I’d done one in my last group (didn’t mention the fiasco that ensued). Went on at length about how valuable it was to take time out from life and do nothing but write, in the company of like-minded others, for a few days.
Some of them actually seemed interested. Not sure about Tony. He was concerned about the cost. Wouldn’t have put him down for a skinflint. Maybe he’s genuinely hard up. Must make sure I get him there somehow, fair means or foul. No fun if there’s no one there with any… never mind.
My plan is to invite my old friend Morwenna – writer of distinction (though her sales have fallen off in recent years and she refuses to change her style to suit the zeitgeist, silly girl). But Morwenna has a real gift for drawing out talent, for inspiring people and getting them to explore something new. She’s exactly what the Lost Apostrophe, or most of its members, needs. She’s the one who first introduced me to erotica and look where that’s taken me. OK, not as far (yet) as I hoped, but there’s still time. And she certainly showed me how to love my work and how to, what’s the word she uses? – yes, to ‘inhabit’ it. No point writing, she always says, unless you’re being true to something deep inside you. Writing what you love or what you fear or what obsesses you. Not necessarily what you know. It’s easy enough to find out stuff in the days of Google and the internet. Write your deepest self, Morwenna always said to me, and I’ve never forgotten it. Not that I’m a sex addict exactly (chance would be a fine thing), but desire fascinates me, in myself and others, as do all the efforts we make to hide and disguise it, to refuse it and dress it up as something else. Sex in the older woman, which sadly I now am…
So yes, Morwenna will be superb. And she’ll only ask for her bed and board and travel… she’s a wealthy woman for some reason I’ve never quite understood. Gives talks out of pure love. She’s the kind who gives writers a bad name – makes the world think that we don’t need to be paid, that we should do what we do out of kindness to humanity, and live on discarded printouts if we can’t afford food. Perhaps I should make sure she gets a fair whack for her efforts. Yes, I’ll do that. If not all the Apostrophes can afford the weekend, that’s tough, as long as I make sure Tony goes.
I can just see her saying to resentful Julianne… just write! Let yourself go. Forget the past. Remember what got you started, all those years ago. And to Rud, hang on to your dreams. Don’t be seduced by a prospective agent who may be dangling you on a bit of string, who probably at this stage doesn’t understand your work at all. Stick to your vision. Think very hard before you rewrite to anyone’s orders. What would she say these days, I wonder, to me? It’s been too long. Stop being such a know-all, probably. Stop worrying about your sales. Get on with writing instead of spending all those hours on social media, trying to make people buy my books. Trouble is, as mentioned above, I have to pay my bills.
She’d probably tell me to get a proper job.
Tony with the red-gold hair – his presence cheered me up a bit – especially when he asked me about my publishing. Writes satirical comedy, he says. Sent it to a few places, no joy – would I recommend he had a go for himself? I, of course, said yes, and even offered, a little mischievously, to give him a hand. Looked at me sharply when I said that. Suspect he’ but I didn’t respond. If Tony wants any more from me than a bit of publishing advice, he’ll have to work for it.
I read another excerpt from Miss Mirabelle. Included all the saucy bits, no censorship. When I got to the group sex, Julianne turned puce again, but I’m getting used to that. I’m more concerned about Eva – she’s one of those religious types – possibly Pentecostal. The kind that makes complaints, or invites their pastor to come and pray for you, to exorcise the spirit of lust or concu-wotsit or whatever they think’s got you in its grip. Not sure I’m quite ready for that, though it might make a good episode for Mirabelle, especially if she manages to seduce the pastor… God, I need to write this down.
Anyway, when I’d done my reading and everyone had coughed and Katy had said how lovely it was (lovely? There’s something wrong with that woman) and no one else had volunteered to read, I came out with my idea. The Midsummer Writers (apostrophe optional) Retreat. Which I offered to organise – readings, speakers, discussion groups, competitions, accommodation, everything. Though they’d have to pay for it, of course. Told them I’d done one in my last group (didn’t mention the fiasco that ensued). Went on at length about how valuable it was to take time out from life and do nothing but write, in the company of like-minded others, for a few days.
Some of them actually seemed interested. Not sure about Tony. He was concerned about the cost. Wouldn’t have put him down for a skinflint. Maybe he’s genuinely hard up. Must make sure I get him there somehow, fair means or foul. No fun if there’s no one there with any… never mind.
My plan is to invite my old friend Morwenna – writer of distinction (though her sales have fallen off in recent years and she refuses to change her style to suit the zeitgeist, silly girl). But Morwenna has a real gift for drawing out talent, for inspiring people and getting them to explore something new. She’s exactly what the Lost Apostrophe, or most of its members, needs. She’s the one who first introduced me to erotica and look where that’s taken me. OK, not as far (yet) as I hoped, but there’s still time. And she certainly showed me how to love my work and how to, what’s the word she uses? – yes, to ‘inhabit’ it. No point writing, she always says, unless you’re being true to something deep inside you. Writing what you love or what you fear or what obsesses you. Not necessarily what you know. It’s easy enough to find out stuff in the days of Google and the internet. Write your deepest self, Morwenna always said to me, and I’ve never forgotten it. Not that I’m a sex addict exactly (chance would be a fine thing), but desire fascinates me, in myself and others, as do all the efforts we make to hide and disguise it, to refuse it and dress it up as something else. Sex in the older woman, which sadly I now am…
So yes, Morwenna will be superb. And she’ll only ask for her bed and board and travel… she’s a wealthy woman for some reason I’ve never quite understood. Gives talks out of pure love. She’s the kind who gives writers a bad name – makes the world think that we don’t need to be paid, that we should do what we do out of kindness to humanity, and live on discarded printouts if we can’t afford food. Perhaps I should make sure she gets a fair whack for her efforts. Yes, I’ll do that. If not all the Apostrophes can afford the weekend, that’s tough, as long as I make sure Tony goes.
I can just see her saying to resentful Julianne… just write! Let yourself go. Forget the past. Remember what got you started, all those years ago. And to Rud, hang on to your dreams. Don’t be seduced by a prospective agent who may be dangling you on a bit of string, who probably at this stage doesn’t understand your work at all. Stick to your vision. Think very hard before you rewrite to anyone’s orders. What would she say these days, I wonder, to me? It’s been too long. Stop being such a know-all, probably. Stop worrying about your sales. Get on with writing instead of spending all those hours on social media, trying to make people buy my books. Trouble is, as mentioned above, I have to pay my bills.
She’d probably tell me to get a proper job.
About the Author
Rosalie Warren was once a university lecturer, specialising in Artificial Intelligence and Natural Language Processing. But her earliest love was books and stories, and since taking early retirement ten years ago she has been following her dream of writing and publishing. For details of her publications for adults and children, including science fiction and romantic suspense, see http://srg521.wix.com/mybooks and https://www.facebook.com/RosalieWarrenAuthor/
Rosalie has been an exile from Scotland for the past fourteen years, but still has many happy memories of the wonderful city of Edinburgh, where her children were born and raised, and of the equally amazing Dundee, where she worked for a further three years. Going back even further, she was born and brought up in Yorkshire, and regularly returns there to visit a seaside place not so very different from the town of Castlehaven in her serial.
Rosalie is also a qualified proofreader and editor and (under the name Sheila Glasbey) her editing services can be found at http://www.affordable-editing.com/
Rosalie has been an exile from Scotland for the past fourteen years, but still has many happy memories of the wonderful city of Edinburgh, where her children were born and raised, and of the equally amazing Dundee, where she worked for a further three years. Going back even further, she was born and brought up in Yorkshire, and regularly returns there to visit a seaside place not so very different from the town of Castlehaven in her serial.
Rosalie is also a qualified proofreader and editor and (under the name Sheila Glasbey) her editing services can be found at http://www.affordable-editing.com/