My quieter, more introspective moments seem to be fewer and farther between these days. Whether this is because I have grown less introspective over the years, or because I have less free minutes with which to be introspective, I’d prefer not to think about. I’d prefer simply to accept that it is, and to appreciate... Continue Reading →
I have never read the “How To Be A Good Mother” handbook. If I had, I am sure I would not have committed so many #MomFails in my son’s eleven years. For instance, I might have read in the DOs and DON’Ts section of the Terrible Twos chapter that no matter how frazzled you are... Continue Reading →
I love art... in theory. I mean, I'm not up on my current rock stars of the art world or anything, but I appreciate the talent and vision that artists have. I can look at a painting and consider what the artist was trying to convey. I can stand before a sculpture and infuse its... Continue Reading →
I have bought a house. Such a small paragraph for such a profound, life-altering responsibility, isn’t it? Home ownership takes many forms and has many motivators. For me, it’s all about the fixer upper. Here is where my head was at when I started this process. I was going to find a place that needed... Continue Reading →
ROUTINE. That was going to be my goal for 2018. It was going to be my mantra. My raison d’etre. 2018 was going to be a year of order and structure, of productivity and of set times for set activities. After a year of upheaval and personal trauma in which I couldn’t seem to get... Continue Reading →
“I’ve lost my muse.” So laments The Bard himself, as portrayed by Joseph Fiennes in Shakespeare in Love. It was one of my favourite movies through my teen years, and my VHS copy was well worn… yes, I realize I’m dating myself with that admission. The loss of Shakespeare’s muse, the Elizabethan “cure” of writing... Continue Reading →
I've got a post today that has nothing to do with my writing or my books ... or anybody's writing or books for that matter. I tried, at first, to tie it all together, but about half way through it felt forced, contrived. So I'm just going to go for it and tell it like... Continue Reading →
Do you remember your first childhood love? That tongue-tied, red-faced, all-consuming crush where you don't know if you're coming or going, but it's the centre of your universe and you wouldn't change it for anything? I do. I was nine. Twenty-odd years later, my first crush still haunts my subconscious. Literally. In my last post,... Continue Reading →
Journals. If you're a writer, you're supposed to keep one, right? Virginia Woolf did it, and so did other greats like Franz Kafka, Susan Sontag and C.S. Lewis. So yeah, okay, for a long time I felt like a total failure because I couldn't maintain one, despite my many attempts over the years. And believe... Continue Reading →
Well, here we are in a new year. I’ve learned lots of lessons in 2016, and I hope to carry them forward to make 2017 the best year yet. The best part of last year was, by far, the unprecedented response I’ve had to the release of my latest novel, The Ghosts of Tullybrae House.... Continue Reading →
Veronica Bale's Blog 