Lynne Graham Diary Page

Welcome to my online diary.

2011

There's nothing like sweeping the surfaces clean for a New Year, so I'll tidy my desk and my workroom while I strive to come up with a plot for my next book. I worked through the festive season because I had a deadline to meet for the last story and have just finished so a couple of days of relaxation will be very welcome. Like most writers, however, I find it strange and rather nerve wracking not to be sharing my brain with a current set of book characters. I won't really be happy until I have a plot to think through again.

We have a new puppy in the house, a very cuddly toy poodle we have christened Cassie. She will eventually make a good play mate for the corgi who reached her first birthday on the first day of the year. Our kitten, Magic is shaping up into a very big and handsome cat with a glossy black coat. He prowls round the garden like a miniature cougar and spies on the hens from the bushes.

I would like to wish all my readers a very successful and Happy New Year in 2011.

Listening to Ellie Goulding and trying not to be distracted. I miss being able to walk around the garden and clear my head but in this wet wintry weather that's not an inviting prospect.

Concentration has certainly proved a challenge this week. Possibly I should have taken a longer break after finishing my last manuscript. Every excuse it gets my mind leaps out of my current book. My heroine discovers she's heir to a desert kingdom and up for an arranged marriage to another royal and she's not impressed. It's often hard to get into the hearts and minds of new characters, particularly in the opening chapters. So, I have to keep on pausing to think about how my hero and heroine feel and in this particular story there is as much healthy dislike as attraction sparkling in the air.

I also think that I write best in layers. I write the first draft, read it, work out what's lacking and go back and fill it in and I do that over and over again until I'm satisfied. Actually, I'm not sure a writer is ever satisfied even with the final draft. There always seems to be room for improvement.

There's been a hint of spring sunshine this week and I can see the bulbs coming up in the garden which brightens my mood. I live in a household full of young people and St Valentine's Day gets a lot of discussion. There's a direct split between the romantics and those who mock such occasions as pure commercialism. Surprisingly two of the most romantic are male. I guess you can tell which category I fall into. My husband gave me a card and it fell on the floor where the puppy chewed a hole in it. Being a positive chap he remarked that at least the dog hadn't got the badge that said, Best Wife Ever. I asked him who he was comparing me to and he laughed.

In the writing field not a lot has happened of recent. Dental appointments, hospital visits to a friend and school interviews are eating up a lot of time. But when I get back to my current project my hero and heroine are at each other's throats while reassuring him/herself that they are in control. Actually neither strong character is in control which I am enjoying.

I really must stop buying and trying to grow exotic plants, particularly some very beautiful Australian ones. Last year saw off our eucalyptus trees. Another winter of unprecedented low temperatures has killed off more precious shrubs. My tree fern was much loved, its planting and tender care inspired by a very snotty lady who once told me I would never be able to grow one so far north in the UK. For years I enjoyed proving her wrong but it did take a good deal of wrapping in severe weather. It must be part of the human condition to want what we are not supposed to have. Every spring I celebrated the survival of my tree fern and that corner is empty now. I should look on this as an opportunity to plant something new and interesting. I'm a great believer in that glass half empty/half full cliche.

On a lighter note, work is going well at present. My hero and heroine are stranded in the desert where my hero's polished survival skills are setting my heroine's teeth very much on edge. When it comes to withstanding her attraction though he is a good deal less assured.

It has been a sobering week in which I attended a funeral and expended much thought on the subject of love and loss.

It's what I write about, what I truly believe in. Nothing can mean more and yet conversely nothing can hurt so much. When you open yourself up to loving there is always the risk that you might lose the loved one. Loving your children or your partner makes you vulnerable and yet I believe that no other emotion can enrich your life more. Several readers of Jess's Promise have contacted me to say how much they enjoyed the story. I was in tears writing a couple of the scenes because my heroine's fear of losing the man she loved came right from my heart. The instant I mentally put myself in her position my eyes began watering and I had to swallow hard.

I'm currently writing about Ruby and Raja, both of whom are fighting love like it's the plague and there's no doubt about it, loving another person does entail compromise and a degree of sacrifice. Neither one of my protagonists is willing as yet to make that major leap and risk heartache. I'm looking forward to seeing who caves in first- you think as the writer that I make that decision? No, not always, often my characters lead the way.

I would like to add that my thoughts and prayers are with my Japanese readers after the earthquake and tsunami.

The benefits of a week's break in Egypt are still piling up, so I am grateful I was able to get away. Life was getting me down and I was a creative dead zone before I left. I'm home buzzing with ideas for a new trilogy and mercifully able to deal with life's ups and downs in a more equitable frame of mind. Sunshine makes me happy. Cairo was colourful and the traffic was terrifying. All I can say about the pyramids is that they are truly awe-inspiring. They were also much bigger than I expected and it took me half an hour just to traverse the base of one.

Back home I'm dreaming up a vengeful hero for the first trilogy story. I haven't had one of those in a while and this one is going to end up with egg on his face and a mountain of grovelling to do. My heroine on the other hand is a much put-upon lady and she is about to discover that she has more backbone than she ever dreamt as well as an unforgiving streak a mile wide.

I'm listening to Adele and Pink while I work. My revenge book is steaming along like a train while my hero plots and manipulates and falls in love without realising it - boy is he storing up trouble for himself. This is a story in which my heroine will discover how strong she can be while ensuring that the hero works his penance. I'm enjoying the drama. There is no greater buzz for me than having the words flowing well on to the page and it's been a while since the action came so easily.

Easter is approaching and I mark the season with my Easter bunnies and colourful eggs and the family groan. My eldest daughter gets married this summer and today she had a fitting for her dress and suddenly we're realising that what once seemed so far away is now only round the corner. I shall miss the fun shopping trips for the gloriously girlie purchases. I must be the only person I know who happily tucks into a cupcake with an Irish Coffee - sinfully good and the very thing to make crowded stores bearable. Its not a very sensible combination, however, for a lady contemplating a diet in honour of her daughter's big day but sometimes there is joy in being self-indulgent, rather than practical.

This was the sad week when foxes chewed a hole in the fencing and took all my hens. It was really creepy when I went out to feed them the next morning and found the run deserted but for a lot of stray feathers. One hen came home the next day but it seems traumatised by its experience. When the dog barked it ran into the house and had to be prised out from behind the kitchen sofa. We're going to have to refence to keep the foxes out. I may adopt some rescue former battery hens and I'm off to a poultry fair at the end of the month. I would like another Light Sussex rooster as my late Napoleon had an easygoing nature, which I appreciated- some roosters can be quite aggressive. I also have chicks coming on, which I hatched in an incubator. It's the cycle of life,isn't it? Whatever happens you pick yourself up and a little sadder and wiser, soldier on as best you can.

Perhaps a need to cheer myself up explains why I bought a cupcake maker this week. I bet you're thinking what a waste of money and what's wrong with using the oven. Well, while cooking is my joy and I think I'm fairly good at it I never did get the hang of baking and have had some hilarious failures in that field. I will never forget the scones that turned out like biscuits or the chocolate cake like a brick. The cupcake maker, however, seems virtually foolproof and is worth its weight in gold to someone like me. As I type i'm munching away at a cupcake covered with frosted pink icing - delish.

Workwise I'm finishing the first book in a trilogy. My tortured hero has fallen madly in love with his wife but he doesn't know it and my heroine is so suspicious of anything good happening to her she doesn't know it either.

Wrote up a storm most of the week and then crashed to a sudden halt.

This has been a very busy week. Four ducklings and Arthur the goat kid came to live with us and the new hens got to move into the equivalent of a fortress fenced to keep the foxes out. The bantam chicks have outgrown a box in the garage and are now in a small run of their own. I've also adopted a new dog. He's called Benny, a JRT cross from a Drogheda sanctuary and he's a very good-natured animal. He has to be carried out the back door last thing at night though because he seems to be afraid of the dark, so he has his little quirks as we all do. Our electric has been going on and off without warning for several weeks and we finally got that sorted out and the fault traced today, so that is a relief. On the other hand my washing machine is still leaking and the new one on order still hasn't arrived so domestic chaos is reigning supreme.

I've been writing a lot but today came to a dead halt on the second book in my trilogy. Sometimes you're not sure where the plot is going next and you ahve to stop and think before you take a wrong turn. For some reason I like my hero and heroine more than usual in this particular story. My hero, Sergios is accustomed to running rings round most people but in my heroine, Bee he has finally met his equal. He doesn't know how to handle her but he is enjoying himself and that unnerves him. As for Bee, she's so sensible that she doesn't realise that he's getting under her skin.

It is so hard to get back to work after a holiday and the irony is that you forget the holiday within days of coming back and being plunged into mounds of washing, mail and emails. And then there's the animal population which seems constantly to grow. Cassie the poodle has had her coat cut short and looks like a drowned rat as she scrambles round the garden - she's a very active outdoorsy dog for her small size. Benny, her best pal, is equally active and likes to steal shoes and chew them while Molly, my elderly Jack Russell just lies on the sofa by my desk playing very noisily with her squeaky toy. Being much quieter the cats cause fewer problems although they hate each other and Scarlet, the older one, is always trying to sleep precariously on the edge of the kitchen range because she loves heat. The hens and the ducks are thriving and we have acquired a peacock and a peahen - I have wanted peafowl for years but they are rare here. Arthur the goat is free ranging more than I like as I keep on tripping over him at the back door and worry that he'll get run over by one of our cars. When I say my household is chaotic I am not exaggerating.

Our weather has been dreadful this summer and even my sweetpeas failed this season. I cut fresh roses every day because the blooms rot in the rain and I might as well enjoy their beauty indoors even though they don't stay fresh for long. I'm writing the third book of my current trilogy about three sisters. My hero is a proud Frenchman with a secret past and the conviction that true strength lies in controlling everything and everybody. Of course he is set for a fall and my heroine doesn't take herself too seriously and does a nice line in irreverence.

I can't believe it's that time of year again when I put pumpkin tealight holders on the mantle to brighten the winter gloom.

It's pretty wet here and the garden is only enjoyable from indoors. Yesterday I was looking at the six foot tall daisies that flower at this season, remembering standing below them as a child and recalling the man who gave them to me to grow. Harry passed away several years ago and is still sadly missed. In those days he lived next door to me and bravely let me borrow his precious books, introducing me to sweetpeas, Tolkien and the Victorian novelists. He was a great reader and the joy of receiving a new book never left him. Whenever I see those daisies bloom I think about Harry.

As of this week, after having recouped my energies with a glorious stressfree week of sunlight in Turkey, I'm writing about a very independent heroine and a Greek hero, who wants to turn the clock back on their relationship. No prizes for guessing that he has got a fight on his hands. Add in a few surprises and the scene is set for the fireworks I most enjoy creating for two characters, who whether they realise it or not, never managed to fall out of love with each other.

The halloween ornaments have been put away - in Ireland we celebrate October 31st rather than Nov 5th - and I'm eagerly looking forward to Christmas, my favourite time of the year. I have so many decorations that I start putting them up mid-November so that everything is ready for December. I didn't have proper Christmases as a child and I think I've been compensating for that ever since. I adore making Christmas special for my family and friends.

I've lost almost three-quarters of a stone over the past six weeks and it's all down to walking half an hour a day, every day, rain hail or shine. On past exercise regimes my mistake was in setting the bar too high and I would fall by the wayside because I couldn't fit a session in but I can break down the walking into little bites throughout the day and yes, I've done it in darkness as well. Getting results for a change is very motivating. And while I walk, I plot the next stage of my book. this week I'm writing very emotional scenes. My hero has done something he shouldn't have done and my heroine is going to pay him back any way she can. I can hardly wait for the first battle to commence. I love it when my characters explode off the page.

Last week was all about self-indulgence. First I met Sharon Kendrick - a lovely lady and fellow writer- for coffee while she was visiting Belfast. Then I spent two nights in Krakow and once I overcame the guilt of not working it was a very enjoyable trip with the Christmas market running in Rynek Glowny Square. We found the Polish people very friendly and I've come home with some beautiful glass tree ornaments including a Frog Prince. Most of all I will forever cherish the memory of some monks singing folk songs/carols (not sure which as I don't speak any Polish) wonderfully well on an outdoor stage while a nun bopped discreetly beside us in time to the music. There's nothing so refreshing as a break from your usual routine and I returned home, raring to get stuck into my new book. The plot is a new departure for me- two people coming to terms with a bereavement and their respective guilt while learning that the most inconvenient attraction still exists between them. It's a challenge to depict that much emotion on the page but I'm loving the depth of this story about Vito and Ava...and there's a homeless dog too! I love including a pet if I can find the space..