Been writing other things and not posting. Which is great as I have thought of an ending to a story that has been on the dictaphone for an age now. In those dull moments in meetings I look like I am paying attention and taking notes, oh but I am not not I am plotting the down fall of villains and the rise of heroes. It is the best reason not to have a smart phone or ipad in a meeting. holding a pen and having real paper. means that you are engaged in the meeting in the room an not on the net. or texting but you really are pay attention. but do remember to keep one ear out for what is happening around you. You just have to speak!! Not been caught out yet but you never know.

Reading again for myself, rather than for some project or other reason just for fun. Servant Leadership, Robert K. Greenleaf and Existence David Brin is my breakfast read. At the end of the day I close with Myke Cole, The one about Soldiers and magic and war and other planes of existence. It is beside the bed and I just cannot be bothered to fetch it. Shadow OPs? could be. But I am enjoying it.

Dyslexics are really nice people hire one today. have a great day as I am going to.

beginning another story.....

As a dyslexic, I love words I enjoy to read and to tell a story is a delight, so I now write them down. Here is a beginning to one that had been abandoned. Now I have returned to and am playing with it again. Enjoy 

It’s funny how you remember things: smells, or tastes, colours or sounds. With this being my very last breath, I really don’t mind that there are no more breaths after this one. Still, not to worry. Everything will be finished after this. Ahhhhh.

That was the end. 

Getting there, though…to the end… well, that is the story. It is the story of a boy who was bored. His name is Hugh. Hugh Benjamin Braithwaite. He has a dad whose name is… and a mum called. .. Because you need both of those to be born. When Hugh Benjamin Braithwaite was born, he opened his eyes, and they were blue. He looked out at the world as if it were a curious place and that it should be very grateful that Hugh Benjamin Braithwaite had been born. He was a happy baby. He had his own bed, in his own room, and a cupboard full of toys. But most of all, he had a growing collection of books. He even had books with no words in for him to fill up with his own words when he was ready to. As soon as he learned his words, Hugh started to make up stories, and he kept a diary from a very early age. His first diary entries were just dashes and squiggles as he learned new motor skills. Then he drew pictures before he moved on to words. Pictures of houses and of people and of the stories in the books on his shelves. He drew pictures of paintings in the art galleries he visited, and of exhibits he saw at museums.

Then one day there was a terrible accident. This wasn’t just the sort of accident where you drop something and make a mess. This was a life and death sort of accident. Hugh Benjamin Braithwaite lost someone he loved. I lost someone I loved.

Let me tell you what happened. It was a beautiful day in the summer. The sun was shining, the flowers were blooming, the bees were buzzing, and everything was as it should be. It was a grand day for having a picnic. And that is what my family decided to do. We were having a picnic in the valley, with sandwiches, juice, Scotch eggs and coleslaw. There was fruit for pudding. It was a glorious picnic up until the landslide. 

Rocks started to fall on our picnic. My mother was suddenly trapped under a very large rock. It crushed her flat. The grass was still growing, the bees were still buzzing, but my dad sat in the grass and cried. There was nothing he could do. In the end he stood up and walked away. 

That was the day my dad became a troll hunter. Some people think trolls are not very clever. But they are very strong and very hard. They are useful for some things like working in foundries and mines, doing hard, manual things. To catch trolls you have to annoy them first. You have to have a troll pit. You have to drop them in and then cover them with nets and tie them with ropes. One of the grand things about trolls is.....

There is more, but you will never know sorry about that but not much. Thanks for reading Have a good day

so writing is in the blog title.

Here is the unedited script for a children's picture book (Use your imagination and make the nosies out loud it is best that way!!!)

Synopsis: Animal Orchestra

When you are put bed, do you wonder what happens down stairs?

In this house, when Jack tries to sleep elephants, walruses, hippos, and gibbons all come round to play music.  Will Jack ever get to sleep? 

Animal Orchestra

“Good night Jack. Sleep well.”

Briiiing, Briiiing. A hoof on a door bell.

There on the step are five Grevy’s Zebras each carrying a violin.

Come in.

Sitting on the sofa they start to tune up: Screeech, Hoooowl, HUMMMMMM.

Will you keep the noise down!!!!! I can’t sleep with all that noise!!!!

Tap-tap-tap on the door.

“Can I come in?” asks the White Rhino  with a Double Bass

Rhino tunes up, too. Dum Dum Dum, Screeech, Hoooowl, HUMMMMMM.

Will you keep the noise down!!!!! I can’t sleep with all that noise!!!!

Rat-at-at, Rat-at-at, Rat-at-at on the door.  An elephant with drums and cymbals.

The African Elephant tunes up. Boom boom tap tish tish, Dum Dum Dum, Screeech, Hoooowl, HUMMMMMM.

Will you keep the noise down!!!!! I can’t sleep with all that noise!!!!

Thud slap splat on the door. 

There on the step are three Walruses with trumpets and a Blue Ringed  octopus with a triangle.

Walruses start to blow. Toot Toooooooottttttttttttttttttttt. TING TING ting goes the octopus.  Boom boom tap tish tish, Dum Dum Dum, Screeech, Hoooowl, HUMMMMM.

Will you keep the noise down!!!!! I can’t sleep with all that noise!!!!

Snap snap scratch on the door.

There on the step are two Gharial Crocodiles carrying trombones.

The crocodiles pucker up and Parp Paaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrppppppp!  Paaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrp! Toot Toooooooottttttttttttttttttttt, TING TING ting, Boom boom tap tish tish, Dum Dum Dum, Screeech, Hoooowl, HUMMMMM.

Will you keep the noise down!!!!! I can’t sleep with all that noise!!!!

Plunk Plunk Plunk Thud on the door.

There on the step are four Lar Gibbons with guitar cases and three hippos in high heels and sequinned dresses.

Gloria, Geraldine, and Grace warm up their vocal cords. Laaaaaaaaaa, Laaaaaaaaa, Laaaaaaaaaaaa, Laaaaaaaaaaa, The Lar Gibbons get ready, Strumm plink plink Struuuuuum, plink, Parp Paaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrppppppp!  Paaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrp! Toot Toooooooottttttttttttttttttttt, TING TING ting, Boom boom tap tish tish, Dum Dum Dum, Screeech, Hoooowl, HUMMMM.

Will you keep the noise down!!!!! I can’t sleep with all that noise!!!!

A gentle tap of dad’ s conductors baton brings  silence. He raises his hands.

Ahhhh Now I can sleep.

ZZZZZZ PUPPHH!! ZZZZZZ PUPPHH!! ZZZZZZ PUPPHH!! ZZZZZZ PUPPHH!!

Gloria, Geraldine, and Grace the hippos, the Lar Gibbons, gharial Crocodiles, walruses,  Blue ringed octopus, African elephant, white rhino and the Grevy’s zebras all drop their instruments and cover their ears.

We can’t play with all that noise!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

is it worth it

The short answer is yes, but what is it. Will I choose to grow, and what is that I will grow in? As a dyslexic reading has always been easy, that has never been my problem, writing and sequencing is it  shows in my spelling (which is easier with a computer!!!) and grammar punctuation. I just am terrible at it. When I stop to think I put in a full stop. even if I am only half way through a thought. I t does make it fun to read back anyway.

So it is worth it, the practise of writing is only ever in the practise, do it, do it again, keep doing it. Do it anyway. Keep going. Don't stop. Then when it feels done, give it to some else to see, read, and learn from them. It is worth it.  Risk something Today