Welcome to the third edition of our newsletter... |
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I can't quite believe it's nearing the end of March already and we're onto our third edition. Editor-in-Chief Enzo has loosened his grip on the leash somewhat and has allowed me to write a little more of my own newsletter. So it's Ericka here, saying hello. What can I tell you about me? The constant rain had flared up my rheumatoid arthritis and fibromyalgia recently. Putting on socks is a challenge. I often wonder how many of us live with invisible illnesses. Making plans and breaking plans, hiding away under blankets. Wave if you can see me. But aren’t books the most wonderful escape? I can’t get out of bed but I can travel back in time thanks to Alice Winn’s In Memoriam and my proof of The Invisible Women’s Club by Helen Paris which is just the perfect spring delight. Anyway, it's onwards into spring we go. I'm definitely ready for some sunshine and Easter egg hunts (but not of the dog poo variety). |
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[EDITOR'S NOTE: Not bad for a first attempt. However, "leash" is an Americanism and is in contravention of the Enzograph Style Guide. And please don't mention dog poo again. Now get on with it...] |
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Wayne Kelly's Life-Changing Books |
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This month, writer, podcaster and pal Wayne Kelly shares his selection of books that changed his life. Music, intrigue, fantasy and fun, not to mention an essential guide to writing itself, you can check out Wayne's choices over on my website. | | |
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I've really been tearing through the pages this month and I've discovered some truly fantastic books. I love to share my bitesize reviews on my site - head over there to see what I thought of my recent reading highlights. | | |
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How Dogs Inspired My Novel |
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All my happiest childhood memories involve a dog. My aunt’s dog, Sandy, who let me share his basket. My dad’s dog, Jess, who let me hold her hour-old pups. Growing up with two elder brothers who lived to torment me and beat me at everything, dogs were a balm. We understood one another immediately. I made use of my (enviable) opposable thumbs to open biscuits, and in return they followed me around, eating my loneliness. Wagging their tail at my jokes, licking my tears away. When they chased me through the long grass, stick raised in one arm, I felt like a warrior. Invincible. They have been a constant throughout my life, loving me unconditionally and without reserve. Dogs do not care for acting cool (yes cats, that’s a dig at you). They throw themselves at me with too much tongue and enthusiasm. I need that. On days when I get it wrong as a mother/wife/writer. When my anxiety plays rock, paper, scissors and wins. When grief floors me, when I can’t get anything right. When my daughter is having a bad day at school and I can’t get involved. |
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The sound of their collars tinkling, ears flapping, tails banging on carpets and against fridge doors, is background music to my life. At night they sleep on my feet and head. When all my children want is freedom and independence, all my dogs want is me. They are vessels for the claustrophobic love I have nowhere to put. On bad days, they remind me I am capable of happiness. Giving and receiving. Our walks remind me to look for simple pleasures. A shaft of sunlight falling on a wet blade of grass. The smell of rain coming over the hill, bringing memories of wellington boots and malted milk biscuits. Dogs make you go out in filthy weather, arriving home wet and cold and feeling oddly alive. They make you talk in silly voices, change the words of songs; ‘tummy-rubbin’ happened so fast.. met a dog, cute as can be..’ (you get the picture). |
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There is very true saying; when you have three children, one will always be unhappy. It is not the case with three dogs. All I need to do to make them happy is take them to a green field and let them off their leads. In fact, the field doesn’t even need to be green. I could take them to a fetid swamp and they would be just as elated.
I envy the happiness a stick can bring my Labrador, or the confidence my miniature Dachshund displays when chasing a squirrel up a tree. The braveness of my little Griffon, the size of a shoe, going up to a Great Dane the size of a dining table, wanting to play. I wish I wanted anything as much as my dogs want to their smelly old tennis ball. In a world of sadness and fear they are reminders that life can be beautiful. They inspire me to write stories that show this. [EDITOR'S NOTE: Reader, I can assure you that I am larger than a shoe.] |
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A Brand New Story on the Website |
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In case you missed it, I posted a new short story this month. You can find Jolly Good, along with lots of other writing, over on my website. Take a look... | | |
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Competition Time - Win Enzo! (Well, sort of...) |
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Enzo said he was feeling particular giving this month so we thought we'd treat you with a competition. When I started to create my website, I asked my friend, the super-talented artist Tony Parsons to paint some portraits of my dogs that I could feature there. As much as I love it, I'd like to offer you the chance to win the wonderful painting of my little Editor-in-Chief, Enzo. All you need to do is drop me a message via the Contact Form on my website with COMPETITION in the subject line. I'll put the entries into a hat - yes, really - and select one in time for next month's newsletter. Good luck! | | |
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I thought I'd leave you with one of my own images this month - something that I think captures that wet shift into the new season with the blossom holding strong under the rain. Roll on April. |
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That's all for March - see you next month. I hope you all have a great time over the Easter holidays. And don't forget to enter the compeition! Peace and paws out, people
Ericka (and Enzo) |
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