Skeleton Architecture

The above quote comes from a writing exercise provided by the Glasgow Women's Library at their most recent, online, Open the Door event. The exercises were inspired by the work of Muriel Spark who was born 100 years ago, so I'm guessing it is a quote from one of her works.  This is from the first exercise. You have to use one of the quotes provided to start a story, and just keep going until you're done.  You can have a go too, you'll find   the exercises here. This is mine (with links to The Literary Gift Company and Etsy stores to buy the things in my imagined shop). Let me know if you do one of the exercises too, I'd love to see it.

Time magazine brought out a great issue in September, with interviews with lots of successful women. One of them was Cindy Sherman, whose artwork I remember studying at university. A quote from her was highlighted on the page: "Of course we're all feminists, right? We all want women to be seen as equals."  Of course we are. I thought that was obvious. I mean, what's not to like about equality (barring my comments from yesterday )? But then I thought it was obvious that we Brits wouldn't be stupid enough to vote for Brexit and my own mother did, I thought it was obvious that America was about to get its first woman president, and Jeezo, let's not go there.  For many and various reasons people go against their own interests all the time, so no, we're not all feminists...                                  ...yet. Oh, and this is what a page from my notebook looks like (when I'm lucky e...

There is a school of thought that says that feminism is simply the belief in the equality of men and women. It sounds reasonable, but... ...we started from a position of patriarchy - men were in charge and they got to do the most valued things, women had to do the rest, and anything which women did was devalued either because it was devalued first and so women did it, OR (and this is really important) women did it and they were of less value in a patriarchal system (I mean this literally - men were people, women were property), therefore the thing done was less valued. We are well on our way to breaking out of the patriarchal system now, barriers are being removed to women entering the roles that men traditionally did. We have lots of women in power. Most of those women are childless, and this is really important, because women's traditional roles in looking after people, raising children, all that nurturing stuff is still undervalued because of patriarchal hangovers. Until the...

There are so many pat things that we all say about what life is like, we have heard them so often that we sometimes just nod along. It can take a jolt to make us question them, like Dany, breaking the wheel (for you GoT fans). The other day I heard a bunch of older men speaking, they were all nodding at each other about how the nature of life was conflict - in whatever way, that conflicts arise and are dealt with and so another arises, and so it is and so it is and so it shall be. I think there's something peculiarly male and patriarchal about this idea, and I hope that as the structures of patriarchy crumble (they are crumbling, it's not pretty), so this notion can be questioned more. I don't believe there is anything truly warlike naturally within men, nor that there is anything intrinsically peaceful within women, but it has fallen to women in patriarchal society to do the emotional labour of bringing people together, which has been seen as part of their motherly rol...

Today's tanka arose from an image that turned up in my head. I don't know what her name is, or the kid's, I don't know what's happened (although a patriarchal apocalypse springs to mind), nor what she's going to build. But I know she will build it.

I generally avoid watching or reading stuff about wars. There is nothing that I can do about men in power sending young men to die and to kill people for whatever reason they've thought up. We hear about 'heroes' who have killed lots of people on someone else's orders. Often people who were trying to kill them on someone else's orders. I do think that sometimes something needs to be done, but I really do believe that too many men in power send too many young men to kill each other, to brutalise others, and to brutalise themselves, to the damage of us all. I also believe that people in power rule by division, the Tories are an excellent case in point - destroying the livelihoods of the poor and then somehow managing to get them to blame other poor people for their situation. The divisions they have fostered have given them power, and done huge harm to our country, particularly to the poor who have had their marrow sucked while the rich have plumped their feathere...

I have been a woman for ages, and I am no amateur woman either, I'm a professional woman. I've read Caitlin Moran's book and I am fully clued up on How to be a Woman. I went to University for three whole years studying Women's Studies, I represented women as a Women's Officer. I know about womaning. I know about sexual assault and inappropriateness too. Sometimes I was even targeted because of being Women's Officer and doing Women's Studies. I have had lots of experiences, from minor to major, and I have been aware of lots of other women's experiences of all the many and various kinds. I don't think you have to be a professional woman to have this experience, just looking like you might be a woman can get you lined right up for it. So I am not delighted that there are so very many women saying #MeToo at the moment, rather, I am delighted that we are all of us taking the same moment to pick up those disgusting rocks and show the nastiness undernea...

This is another tanka that's come out of the work I've been revisiting lately. It's about gun control, 'illegal' immigrants, human trafficking. All of that cheery stuff.

Today's tanka is a shorter version of another poem of mine, inspired by women coming together through the ages.

I wrote this poem on Ada Lovelace day, which was the 10th October this year. I figured I'd find out more about Ada as all I really knew was that she was Lord Byron (the philandering poet)'s daughter, and one of the first computer programmers. I have just dragged myself out of the rabbit warren of finding out about Ada. Why haven't I seen a film about her? Ada came from a seriously messed up family, and was pushed into mathematics and science by her mother (with the help of some brilliant tutors), who was desperate that she shouldn't inherit what she saw as her father's madness and moral depravity. I am using the word 'father' loosely here, he was more of a sperm donor really. Go google Ada, she's fascinating. Anyway, one of the things that Ada turned her attention to was flying. She really wanted to be able to fly, and looking at the way she lived, with her mother having her watched by her friends to look out for failing morals (Ada dubbed them the...

This week's Prompt at Mum Turned Mom (link below) is perfection .  I start my Rose book (which I'm going to do an overhaul on, because I think I'm working out why no one wants to publish it) with a consideration of perfection, which is of course, unattainable, although a near miss is pretty good. We will keep aiming for it though, and beating ourselves up for not achieving it. It's a word that seems to get talked about a lot, particularly when considering beauty, and makeup. I am a big fan of makeup. I love black eyeliner, especially teamed with a smokey eye and minimalistic lipstick. I have been known to paint trees on the side of my face, and that's all good. I love watching people do makeup. I follow Illamasqua and Jonysios on Instagram, and they are both awesome feeds, with totally unnatural, brilliant looks. I love it when it's unnatural. I mean, if you're going to put colours on your face why not go wild and have fun? The thing that creeps me out...

Yesterday I set you a creative writing challenge , so today I'm sharing what I've come up with. Please do share yours too, stick your link in the comments, or just share what you've come up with. I rolled a three so got the snippet from Sergio Ortiz' poem, Day of the Dead: "They married. Julia, carried down the aisle / by two old lovers, found the lost bottle of rum" I was taken with the idea of Julia not wanting to marry, or perhaps she did want to marry but knew it was hopeless. That her former lovers would present her to her husband as if she were theirs to give. I was also fascinated with the merging of the funeral and the wedding. At the moment I'm interested in writing in the first person plural, so I thought I'd explore the idea of a funerary wedding from the point of view of the bride bearers. I've given you six of them. I initially wrote this in the voice of the bride, but I kind of feel that the point of this is that her voice is ...

Hello all! I'm taking part in Chuck Wendig's flash fiction challenge today, sharing this ever so short story about, well, it's about a woman who broke gods. Iconoclastically. I'm getting more into short fiction lately, so let's see how I get on! She Broke Gods She did it methodically, working her way around the incensed alcoves while the men in their robes worked out what to do. Some sank to their knees, praying to the gods even as she smashed them, taking her time to hit them repeatedly against the wall, the floor, anything which might help reduce the beautiful statues to ground powder. Hands raised in blessing flew across the floor as she hauled each god down from its plinth, and if any of the be-robed men challenged her actions, and they did, tears tracking down dust grimed faces as she performed her iconoclasm, taking her time to get it right, she seemed to pay them no heed. Yet, as she swung the statues down, golden crowns tinkling to the floor...

One of the things I love about writing poetry is that you can put in secret messages. Some of them are so secret they might never be decoded, others can be pretty obvious, but still offer an opportunity to plead innocence. Weather is a good way to talk about things, we are all used to weather being used to tell us things in programmes and in books, so it works easily in poems too. I've written a poem about books which was actually about a person I know, although that one's not currently available. This poem is about plants. Honest. Worthy of the sun This seed is just as worthy of the sun but staked and tethered has no room to thrive instead, the same trees race to feel gold rays, taking the place of others pushed aside. Many, it seems, must naturally fail, yet flowers are diverse here down below and if we could find more space in the sun who knows what wonders we who tend might grow? For those who fear the plant may 'come a weed, shading the leaves that ...

Hello! I'm down in the dumps at the moment. It's February and the rain is falling. Everything is cold and dull and wet, and staying in has ceased to be all hygge and lovely and become incredibly tedious. Not that we're staying in all the time, but I long for days of warm sun and lunch outside, of not constantly cleaning up muddy kitten prints (although they're doing great outside and having fun, which is good). My Mum is moving house today, which is brilliant for her, as her old house was too big and needed too much work. It's fine for me as well, but I'm rolling about in memories today, of all the things that happened in that house, all my memories, all the memories shared with others who aren't in my life now. It's weird to think that I won't ring that pull-bell again. It's weird to think that I won't need the memory of which steps creak. I'm busy doing lots of writing at the moment. Bitty stuff of poems to go with a photograph...

I've been listening to talk about dress codes and sexual discrimination on Woman's Hour . It's taken me back to the years when I worked in offices. I tried to dress 'appropriately' but was constantly getting in trouble about my appearance. My hair was the wrong colour, my shoes were the wrong height, I wasn't allowed to wear trousers in court, I needed a tailored jacket, and so on and so on and so on. I once had a workplace appraisal (joy) wherein my line manager told me that I was scruffy and wouldn't be taken seriously. She was wearing a waistcoat so I chose to ignore her sartorial advice. It's incredibly difficult to find clothes that are deemed suitable for an office and which also fit chubby bodies... I suspect that it's actually the bodies that are deemed suspect.  Anyway, according to recent research discussed on Woman's Hour women, espeically young women are still being required to dress for other people's gaze, to wear high heel...

Since I came across Edward Spenser's epic poem,  The Faerie Queene recently (it was published in 1590, which is an indidication of how far behind I am on my reading list), I've been wanting to try writing in Spenserian stanzas myself. This is my attempt.  I think it's OK, obviously not on Spenser's scale (the Faerie Queene has more than 2,000 stanzas!), and I've found I really like its rhythm.     It's focused on recent events because that's all I can think about.  I don't like how gender binary it gets at the end. I don't like to be gender binary. In my opinion people are people and love is love. A friend was complaining about the news constantly repeating the fact that The Pulse is a gay club, as far as she's concerned that's irrelevant. If it was some tragedy like a fire, then I'd agree with her. But gender did matter to the man with the gun. Sexuality did matter. We don't have to agree with him to recognise his twisted mot...

The prompt over at Mum Turned Mom  this week is Up . You might think that this would bring to mind pretty balloons, or that song the kids sing at school - Build Up (hooray for non-religious school songs), but the thing that was jumping about in my mind was that the people who stay up  at the top, do it not by standing on the shoulders of giants (raising each other up to greatness), but by climbing up on the shoulders of the weak and then making sure they stay weak. The Tory party's attacks on the poor and the disabled are one example, another is the constant stream of nastiness against immigrants. Then there's the dividing and conquering by pretending that there are sexuality, gender, class, and race dichotomies and trying to keep people in their fake boxes. Ugh.  So, here's my cheerful little poem about overthrowing the patriarchy. I'm sure it'll fit right in. The rule of the fathers Do you think they know not what they do seeking to tear out world...

I've been in a people-watching kind of place lately. Maybe it's the cold turn in the weather, but I've been keeping more to myself, and instead, paying attention to the way people are talking to each other and to the stories people tell. Yesterday I went to my friend Rose's funeral. I had written this poem in the light of her death, although of course, at her funeral it was her poems that were shared, and I was so glad about that, because I'd feared I'd never hear them again, and worse, that I'd already heard them for the last time and didn't know when that was. I heard so many stories of the inspiration and encouragement that Rose gave to people. I can only hope to emulate that. I will try. I am very glad that her light was not dimmed at the end, but went out swiftly, so we all got to remember her as the vibrant, exciting woman she was. On Monday I went to my Writing Group's AGM which was busy, with a packed agenda, and I was fascinated to se...

We decided long ago in 2006 that we were going to shake up the way our family worked. My husband, Kenny, would go for a job with a bigger salary, with the flexibility which has to go with that, and we would move our family as required. I would look after our children, and make sure that things at home worked, even as Kenny needed to work away for his job. It's worked out well for us. Kenny's doing well in his career, and our children are happy and secure, despite having moved a few times, but nothing is all good. Everyone has something they don't like about their work, and being a full time Mum, while being very rewarding, and completely worthwhile, can also be dull, repetitive, and frustrating. For me, I need to have another focus as well. When we first moved for Kenny's work my other focus was on the charitable organisation I was running (in Suffolk). b.a.b.i.e.s (Babies and Birthing in East Suffolk) was fun and so very useful, and gave me plenty of adult foc...