2 January 2015

My first post of 2015!

Happy new year everyone! Hope you all enjoyed your new year celebrations!

Anywhooo, this is my first post of 2015! WOW! I don't think my brain can comprehend that...

I thought I start of this what-I-hope amazing year with my January Blog Goals!

1) Finish the makeover of my blog! - If you haven't noticed yet, I have changed the template of my blog. But that is just the first step in my renovation! I want to create pages so that I can file things away quickly and make it all neat and tidy for you!

2) Finish and review one book - Do you remember about two months back I reviewed Mockingjay Part 1? Yeah well I want to do another review but this time a book review. And seeing as I got 2 books for christmas and I have 3 more that either in the middle of or I want to read, there's no excuses.

But it means one thing:

I NEED TO READ QUICKER!

That'll be hard since I'm a slow reader!
Yes I read as slow as Sherlock because I like to soak things up!

3) Get to know the blogsphere more-I want to know you guys cause a) you guys are pretty damn interesting and b) It means more people will know about my blog

Confession: On bloglovin I follow 8 blogs and I only read & comment on 2 of them
Yes, Blair you are allowed to judge me.

But, I will set this right this month.

So that's it for my first post of 2015! Comment below any goals you think I should have in the forthcoming months and what you think of my new design!

See you soon,

Lucy xxx

31 December 2014

Finale of my writing

Welcome everyone to the finale of my writing masterpieces!

First of all, if you haven't read the first two, you can check them out here and here.

Now without further delay here is the finale, the conclusion, the end of my writing.



Broken

Dear Diary,
Although it has been 6 months since I lost the most precious thing, it still feels like yesterday. It isn’t something I can replace or find a replica of. No-one can. It was my family. My perfect, little family. Mum, who always had pages of her writing strewn across her study floor,  who had her publisher always on her back asking her when the next draft or chapter would be ready. Dad, who would have endless meetings on because of work but still made time for dinner,  who was always so positive even during times when no-one could see the light. Then there was me. People call me the child of everyone's dreams. I inherited my dad’s brains as well as my mum's creativity. I had a boyfriend, was one of the populars at my college. Everything fell apart because of the split.

My counsellor says I should write down how I feel about everything in this diary. Except I don't know how to feel about everything.  I mean, it's all a jumble of emotions. Like a knot you have in your hair but can't brush out. So my plan is to go back to the start and work out how I feel about this situation.

I recall finding out so vividly. I came home on the bus, walked down my little lane. Same old routine. I walked into our little cottage and ran up the stairs, waiting for my mum to call me down to ask me about my day. She didn't though. At first I thought she was in the middle of a nail-biting chapter and would call me down after she’d finished. Again, nothing. It was getting nearer to dinner time and there hadn’t been a peep. That’s when I knew something was up. 

I remember going downstairs, thinking of all the what-ifs and trying to prepare myself. Not once did it cross my mind about the real circumstances.
When I entered the study the first thing I saw was my mum in the middle of the room, crumpled up in a little ball like a bit of paper you throw away. All around her was pages of writing, torn. Strewn all over the floor.  I asked her what was wrong and I remember the exact words she replied with. ‘Your father… he’s left me. He’s left us’

 I didn’t believe her at first. I backed away from her study and sprinted back up to my room. I picked up my phone and dialled dad’s work mobile. At this point my hands were shaking and I was fighting the urge to cry so hard. He picked up after two rings and I immediately asked the question. When I heard him sigh, I knew it was true.

The next 3 months were extremely hard for me. I broke up with my boyfriend, had a nervous breakdown in school and started going to counselling.  My counsellor has been really helpful; she doesn’t ask too many questions and talks to me about my feelings and gives me tips on how to control my nervous breakdowns.
After that I kind of started getting used to my new life; living with mum one week, living with dad the next. They try and make it consistent, but sometimes dad goes away on business trips. 

I’ve finally figured out how I feel about the whole situation. I guess there will be a part of all of us that will be lost forever because of the spilt. Although we won’t like to admit it, we all know it’s true.
So to end this diary entry, I’ve come up with the theory that we’re broken like little shards of glass. I am broken.


Hope you liked it! I'm now off to redesign the blog!

See you in the New Year!

Lucy xxx

P.S. Sorry I was offline for like 5 days. My little cousins were here so we were doing family stuff, but I'm back.

25 December 2014

2nd segment of writing

I told I would be back tonight! So like as I said I am posting two parts of my writing tonight. You can check the first one out here.

So I won't make you wait anymore, here it is!



Until We Meet Again

It was a cold and frosty winter’s morning as Charlotte walked along the prom with a couple of manuscripts under her arm, the waves of Brighton splashing her dark brown leather boots. She was on her way to her favourite coffee shop, Coco’s Café.  She spent nearly all her free time there editing books.

You see, Charlotte was a publishing editor. She had come over from the USA two years ago wanting a fresh start. Within three months she had found herself a small flat to rent, work and a few friends. Her dream job had always been in the publishing business and she couldn’t believe it when she was employed!

Charlotte twisted the door handle and stepped inside the familiar interior, hearing the bell chiming.  Her best friend, and owner of Coco’s, was manning the counter. The recent number one ‘Ruby’ by The Kaiserchiefs played faintly in the background on the stereo. Charlotte made her way to a booth with a red velvet seat near the window and slipped into it. She placed the stack of manuscripts on the table and reached for the one on top, eager to explore whatever story the manuscript in front of her held.

As soon as she delved into the stories, she lost track of time. Reading was her passion. It didn’t matter whether it was an author’s first or seventh novel (well maybe it did a bit because with a first one it took a longer amount of time to edit, whereas the more experienced writers knew what to do) , she still loved editing and suggesting changes to the novelist.

Three hours passed with Charlotte oblivious to the time. When she glanced up out of her trance to look at the clock, she was greeted by the second verse of ‘How To Save A Life’ by The Fray playing on the stereo. As soon as she saw what time it was she decided to call it a day and go home. She looked fleetingly out of the window to see if the weather had improved. Unfortunately, Charlotte was greeted by windy rain. She sank into her plush seat and let out a sigh. If she was going to get through a twenty minute walk to her flat, she would need a takeaway hot chocolate.

Charlotte walked up to the counter, the heels of her boots clicking against the floor. No-one was manning it so she shouted through the back.
“Hello?” she shouted. No answer. “Anybody there?” She saw a shadow moving and heard something slamming. “Coco, I know you’re there,” she said this time, a little more impatient.

“It’s not Coco,” a male voice replied leaving Charlotte embarrassed. “I’ll be with you in second. I’m just putting a batch of cookies in the oven.” Charlotte stood there waiting anxiously, rummaging amongst the coins in her flower-printed purse.

A minute later, she could hear the boy’s footsteps coming towards the counter. When he emerged from the back, Charlotte couldn’t take her eyes off him. He had blonde hair which looked like the sand from a Hawaiian beach and brown eyes like milk chocolate. He had a fairly muscular build and was about 5’10.
“Hi what can I get for you?” he asked, his strong British accent recognizable.
“A h-hot c-chocolate” she stammered, losing all of her confidence. What was this effect the boy had on her?
“Okay. Take-away or sit-in?” he asked once again, not fazed by Charlotte.
“Take-away,” Charlotte said softly. The boy put his hand out, asking for the money. Charlotte placed the silver coins in his hand. He thanked her with a smile. His teeth were as white as snow!
“I’m going to tidy up my area, so could you bring it over?” she said, pointing over to the small booth.
“Yeah sure,” the boy replied.  Charlotte walked back over to the booth. When she was half-way across the room he shouted after her.
“Oh one more thing! What’s your name?” he asked curiously, black sharpie at the ready.
“It’s um, it’s Charlotte” Oh this boy was even making her forget her name! He smiled and scribbled it down.

Charlotte continued her walk back to the booth and then began tidying up. It consisted of jamming some of the manuscripts into her bag along with her notebook which held her innermost secrets. It was a short task and after that she put her beige coat on, not ready to brave the walk home.  Charlotte heard someone clear their throat and whipped around to see the boy standing there, holding her hot chocolate. “Here’s your order” he said, presenting the creation like it was the most wonderful creation he had ever made.
“Thanks” she said, taking the hot chocolate out of his hand. He flashed a smile and walked back to the counter. She picked up her bag and was ready to head home when she noticed something. It was a note. She turned the carbon cup around and looked very carefully at the message
Charlotte,
It was very nice meeting you. Hope you make this your regular café.
Until we meet again,
Ollie

Charlotte smiled at the note and had an idea. She dug out her notebook and a pen. She turned to a blank page and started to scribble down a reply. When she finished the letter she read it over. It said:
Ollie
You’ll be happy to know this is my regular café.
Until we meet again,
Charlotte
She ripped the page out of the notebook and headed over to the boy.
‘Thanks once again’ she said, placing the piece of paper down on the surface. She quickly twirled around towards the exit with a big beaming smile on her face. Suddenly she was feeling a bit chirpier about the walk home.

Once again let me know what you think in the box below! See you tomorrow for my third and final piece of writing (for now)

Lucy xx