Reblogged from http://awomanswisdom.wordpress.com/
Guest Blog: Me, Myself and Jaye by author Anita Dawes
The other day my sister-in-law, Jaye came into the front room where I was curled up on the couch, reading a book and asked for a fresh up-to-date bio about myself, something she knows I hate to do.
I have written several books and most of these Jaye has helped to publish on line. These days I prefer to read, telling myself it’s a kind of research, after not picking up my pencil for some time.
The idea for a book is the most important thing, but first you have to find it, and then write it down. Jaye doesn’t entirely agree with my methods and sometimes I think she might be right. I do spend too much time in other people’s books and I am eternally grateful to one sweet old lady who came to my school and taught me how to read. Spelling is something that still eludes me, and I thank God for Jaye, as she’s the only one who can read my scribble.
Jaye says ideas come easy for me and she’s right, they do. I don’t mean to sound big-headed, because the thing that doesn’t come so easily, is putting pencil to paper then handing it over to her for checking, spelling and all the things I have trouble with. For in a way, I hate the fact that my notes are so hard to read and the spelling is atrocious. So much so, that if anyone else were to see my scribble, I think I would die of shame.
I have realised lately that reading all these books, and going for long walks is an excuse. I’m just lazy, the ideas might come easy but putting them down is too much like schoolwork, something I’m still allergic to.
Again, Jaye gives me that look. She knows all about my excuses, and I hate it when she’s right. I have just written a short story and have an idea for another, a spooky one this time.
Oh no, she’s back again, asking for a two-page funny post for Halloween, and have I finished the updated bio yet?
There’s nothing for it, I will have to sharpen all my pencils, put down the books and put more of my ideas down on paper.
Well, I have to do something to stop her begging.
When you think about being in a coma, you would imagine that nothing much happens. Peaceful, perhaps, a bit boring? Maybe.
But who knew that being in a coma would be such a traumatic, sometimes violent experience?
When Maggie is mown down by a dirty blue car outside her local supermarket, she is not prepared for any of it. Least of all, the sad nightmare world she is forced to witness. Or the sad pitiful child she finds there.
Maggie has two battles to fight. Finding her own way back to the real world and somehow bring the child back with her…