2 months on

So, two months since the mighty Murph shrugged off his mortal coil and headed towards that great puppy playground in the sky. The wife and I have been missing his dogness. There's just this big black lab hole in our lives, and our home. It's time to bite the bullet and find a new doggy maestro to share our life with.

Murph was a rescue dog. Three years old when we got him, it took him a long time to truly trust that we weren't sending him back. Though once he got the hang of this lovin' stuff he was, what one might term, demanding. We loved him for it. The thump of his very hard head into your knees was the sign for "I need an ear scratch"; lying in front of the couch on his back said "come on, time to play, scratch my tummy"; and grabbing his bowl in his mouth and knocking it on the floor was the sign for "chocolate please, the bowl's empty".

We regretted not having those first three years of his life, and saddened that he took another 3 to truly be himself. We want every second of the next dog's life. Its screwups will be ours, and hopefully they'll be the fun wacky kind. Not the sort that made Murph hit the deck first time I picked up a stick to throw for him. I swear, if I had ever met his previous owners, I would have known what to do with that stick.

So we're puppy hunting. We're close too. Meeting breeders who hopefully will like us and say "yes, of course you can have one of our puppies". We've passed the first stage, the questionnaire and a photo of your garden. We probably sent too many. But now we're off to meet our preferred breeder. So exciting.

I'm sure Murph would approve.

Ramblings from the desktop

It's been a busy month, what with holidays, the parents, the puppy hunt, writing and the day job. I'm not quite sure how we fitted it all in.  We had a great time hill climbing in Perthshire, the views from Rannoch Moor are stunning. Looking out across the desolation of the moor to mountain range after mountain range is pretty awesome. The Grey Corries were covered with snow, Ben Nevis even deigned to keep out of the clouds for just long enough to be identified.

Yesterday, the parents returned home and we had the house to ourselves again. It was quiet, so we switched the telly on to drown out the silence. Puppies have been born and we'll be heading off soon to see more than we can afford! Excitement is high but, inevitably, it's tinged with an element of sadness as there's no Murph to share it all with.

I'm beginning to get hooked on Twitter (@Jamie_AC). There are some fantastic people sharing elements of themselves with the world in general. I've been following a few well-known faces and the way in which they interact with those of us who muscle in on their conversations, is pretty impressive. Alison Moyet, Clare Balding, Val McDermid and Heather Peace have all been added to my "respect due" list. And Denise Warner is just plain funny.

What's really struck me though, on Twitter in general, is the debate on "same-sex marriage". (Why, BTW, do we have to call it "same-sex"? I just ask because we don't talk about "different-sex" marriage, or did I miss that post.) Now I'm all for extension of marriage beyond the, ahem, "different-sex" variety. Where I have a problem, is when churches try to claim marriage as their own private party. Personally, I'm not the religious go-to-church type and quite frankly I don't care if churches don't want to marry me to my sweetheart. But, I pay my taxes just like everybody else. Okay, so not everybody else,  I'm not rich enough to avoid paying taxes... Back to my point, and yes I do have one. Civil marriage shouldn't be subject to religious bias. Civil marriage is a commitment that brings with it certain rights and privileges as part of our [civil] society. As such it should not be restricted to one select group, but should be for those couples, irrespective of gender combinations, who are over the legal age to choose to commit themselves to their partner. My view of marriage is that it's up to churches and their congregations to decide on the rules for religious marriages; and up to the state to decide on the rule for civil marriages. The state has to treat all of its citizens in an equal and fair way, and yes, that means making choices that help minority groups. I have a view too on just how minority gay/lesbian/bisexual actually isn't, but I'll leave that for another day!

So back to the marriage thing. If a church bans (ok I'll use it) same-sex marriages from its roster, then it should not be allowed to carry out the civil part of the ceremony. If they allow same-sex marriages then they can do the whole shebang. My other view, is also simple. If the state does not permit same sex marriages then it should give up on the whole civil marriage thing; introduce civil partnership for all and leave the marriage stuff to the churches (with the same proviso on the civil element). Sorted.

Now, about world peace.....

It Can't Be May Already!

Hard to believe, I know. Seems like only yesterday it was Christmas. It's been a busy and sad few months for the Lloyd household. Just before easter our wonderful black lab Murph passed away. We didn't feel much like eating chocolate.

The last couple of weeks, we've been tidying out the loft. Boxes of photos have been assembled and either scanned or thrown into the discard pile. It's been quite a journey. My darling wife has done the most of it, me being the type who doesn't easily sit in one place for too long and bores easily. I love flicking through the photos, seeing places we should really visit again, and realising just how full and energetic our life has been. And how slim and young we were back then.

With all this reminiscing we've decided to pick up the pace again. We're off hill climbing later this month, used to do lots of that, crampons an' all. No Murph to accompany us, but hey it can't always be perfect. When we come back, the puppy hunt will begin in earnest. We've identified a number of breeders, at least one of whom ought to like us. If they pick us, then we can pick a puppy.

My wife has pretty much recovered her health (just as well considering the hill climbing part). I guess we're ready now for the next chapter in our lives together. Looking back through the photographic years, I see friends who were together and are no longer. New friends who have joined us, old friends who no longer inhabit this earth. Three friends who didn't make it to their 40th birthdays.

I intend celebrating my next birthday (just over a week's time) on top of a munro, surrounded by my friends. Well, those who make it up the hill at any rate, I have been told one or two will be waiting in the nearest pub. Time with friends and family is the best present around. And time well spent to boot.

So here's to Murph, thanks for all the years; to all my friends, thanks for being there guys; and to my wife, who needs no more words from me.

mint tea and thoughtful repose

Writing was a bit of a chore for me last year. My wife was seriously ill and I wanted to spend my time with her. Thankfully, towards the end of the year she began to turn whatever corners it was she needed to turn. I would say she's 80% better, and improving day by day.

During the last 12 months, we've changed a lot in our lives. She tires easily so we don't go out as much as we used to. It's sad to see some old friends seem to think that this means we don't need friends any more. Eye opening also to see the newer of our friends making sure we know they are still there for us, calling in for a coffee or just texting to say hi.

As for that coffee, I don't drink so much these days. Moroccan mint tea is more my tipple. Add some sugar, drink from a small glass and its sweet pungent aroma plays with the nostrils, transporting the brain to many an imagined world.

The novel I had begun at the start of the year, first words arriving as I sat in the emergency room, has been through many twists and turns. The bad guy turns out to be a good guy. A character I thought would die in the opening chapter turns out to be a crucial holder of knowledge and therefore cannot die. He holds the key on which the story turns. I now know what the title means, I know how the story starts and ends - I'm one of those writers who gets the title first and then wonders "what the heck story goes with that"! The middle is still a little jumbled, I hate a story that sounds contrived because the writer wanted something to happen. If something happens in my story it has to be a) because that's what you'd expect or b) it's a twist in the story that leads you logically to somewhere else. There's nothing worse than reading something and then feeling the writer cheated on you because something improbable happened to force the story to go in a particular direction. I don't mind the ones where you have to go back a few pages, or stop to think, so long as the reaction is "ok, I can see that happening".

So right now I'm thinking. Thoughtful repose. Not rushing my characters to make their next move, letting the story unfold and tell itself. I'm still figuring the changes required because of that key character having to stay alive, and am aware there's one more twist associated with that decision. Had he died, then my main character would have a difficult choice removed from him, he would simply do nothing. But with this character still alive he has to make a choice. A moral choice. I'm really looking forward to reading how it all turns out.

It's just one of those days

Everything electronic is on a go slow. The answer, of course, is to reboot the computer. That, however, would mean forcing outlook to close. And outlook has been at the bottom of most of today's semi-shutdown. It is now open in safe mode. It took a mere 47 minutes to achieve that blessed state.

But, at least now it is working. Itunes has decided that it does in fact love my shuffle - well at least now that I've booted Spotify off the desktop.

I'm finally giving up. Switching off. I may return. Then again....

Procrastination and the common cold

I'm suffering from both of these afflictions and can't quite decide which is worse. On reflection, the common cold may just have the upperhand as I think it is the cause of my procrastination. But I could be wrong. The throat soothers I rescued from the far reaches of my desk drawer are a tad sticky. The promised liquid centre is, in fact, a solid sticky mass that is currently congealing its way around my teeth. They are, I think, rather ancient. At least I can't actually remember buying them and there's only a third of a pack left. The last time I had a sore throat and needed soothers was way before Christmas.

I had sat down at my keyboard with the avowed intent to write a couple of hundred words, in this my lunchtime break. Instead I have struggled to tweet and have been distracted by the various links to "tips for writers", which keep appearing on my twitter page. Most of those I went to were about avoiding procrastination, a tad ironic don't cha think?

First thing though, I did finish up the murder scene of my new story. I wrote it straight through and then went back to read it. It scared the hell out of me, I think I may have nightmares. What scares me more though, is the fact that I imagined all this horror. I think I need to tame it down a lot, after all I'm writing a murder/mystery not a horror story.

The second soother is even more sticky than the first - something I did not think possible. I shall have to abandon my writing endeavors and go find some floss....

Not another set of writing tips!!!

Every writer has their own set of tips and thoughts and just about everything, on how the writing thing gets done. I know this because I think I've read them all.

The thing about writing is you just have to do it. No amount of reading about what you should, or shouldn't, do is going to get it done. And just because these 10 things work for some bigshot writer, doesn't mean they're going to work for you.

Do you really need someone to tell you that to be a writer you also need to be a reader? If you don't read books, how can you write readable books? Do you really need someone to tell you that show is way better than tell? Really?

I went once to a creative writing course. It was the worst experience of my life. All these budding writers vying to show off their skills and tell their stories. They didn't need to impress me, I wasn't there for their writing I was there for my own. They willingly crunched their thoughts and ideas into the formats demanded of the course leader. Now, I have to come clean and admit that I learned more about me as a writer at that course than I had in the years of writing in solitary in the proverbial darkened room. I didn't learn how to construct a story in 30 minutes - I learned that I was a slow burner, taking ideas, logging them, allowing my brain to sift the good from the bad, reconfiguring and eventually coming up with an idea that might lead to a story.

I learned that sharing my half baked thoughts is something I'd rather do with my partner, than half a dozen strangers - no matter how into writing they might be. And that I don't think in the same way that that particular group of individuals all seemed to be able to do. I also didn't want to please teacher. When I write I want to come out the other end with something that I want to read.

So my writing tips.

1. Know what you like to read and why.
2. Write for you first and foremost - afterall, you read other peoples' books so there must be an audience just like you out there.
3. Listen to what others have to say, but make your own mind up.
4. Share your thoughts and writings with those you trust to tell you what they really think, preferably non-writers themselves they won't feel the need to compete.
5. When you do find that writer buddy who helps you without comparing your work to theirs, treasure them.
6. Write, write and keep on writing. Then read it over and over, editing it until it looks like something that might interest you if you were to pick it up in a book store.
7. Try turning it into an e-book and read it on your kindle or ipad - it's amazing how this changes your view of what you've just written.
8. Above all, enjoy the person you are.