Spooky

Going back to my inability to actually put something into the post box. (The Wicked Witch) This time I actually managed to do it. I wrote a poem as a thank you to my best friend. She reads all of my novel extracts and she tells me if things don't work. She listens to my problems. If she didn't live so far away she'd probably tell my if I looked like crap too!

Spooky is my SATC type of girlfriend.

What I mean by that is I connect with Spooky, and I always have. She knows me just as well as I know yourself. I tell her anything, and everything, and it doesn't matter if I don't speak to her for a week a month or a year (or even 7 years in our case). All it takes is for one email, or a text message, or a telephone call and it's as though I spoken to her just last night.

When I wrote Spooky I just thought about want I wanted to say to her, bought a birthday card with a simple "Happy Birthday" and wrote the poem in the card.

Erin

Read the poem Spooky and more Poems written by Erin Cawood at www.erincawood.co.uk.

Bring on the Next Chapter

The Idea for my first noval came to me almost four years ago, after many false starts and periods of the dreaded writers block I finally sat down to write it in January 2008. Since then I've been a rubbish girlfriend, a rubbish daughter, a rubbish sister, a terrible aunty, and a pretty rubbish friend.

The life of a novalist is very isolated and incredibly lonely at times. I have ofter sat down and wondered how the published authors do it. I have been so submerged in these lives that I have created, getting lost in the story line for hours, days, even weeks on end, that I have had to make myself go to bed a 3.30 in the morning because its either that or go downstairs, make a cup of tea, and go right back to it and get lost again till sunrise because despite having been at my computer since 9am. .. I'm not tired. I even chose to spend my birthday alone in my office writing (although I went to my sisters for sunday lunch)

I guess the point to my sentimental rambling, is that it has been 16 months, and my first draft is done.

Bring on the next chapter ...

Erin

The Wicked Witch

As far as putting things into a post box go, I am rubbish at it. Remembering what day it is, and when it is not a problem for me. I'll by a card, I'll write in it, I'll even address and put a stamp on it. But actually posting it? I seem to have a missing particle in my DNA, because I never remember to do it.

No one in my family expects a card from me.

So when mother's day came around this year, I got up especially early for a sunday to wish my mum a happy mother's day. For me, poetry is a beautiful way of saying something to someone you love, so I wanted to write my mum a poem. I spent days thinking about my earliest memories of my mum. Actually thinking about the first physical presence I remembered, where I can see her in my minds eye, and whats she was doing. Then I started thinking about the memories that really stuck out for me. The ones that made me smile, or cringe.

The first half of the poem expresses the view that as children we don't consider what our mums do for us. We have a "me, me, me" prospective and mums are there to stifle us, use us as an excuse when they screw up, stop us for doing what we want, and embarass us. A form of parental torture worthy of the title The Wicked Witch. The second half of the poem is from an adult perspective. It's about how much I appreciate my mum, that I think she did a good job, and that I don't bare any grudges for what she has done to me as a child. The last paragraph is acknowledging that she isn't perfect, but thanking her for being my mum.

Erin

Read The Wicked Witch and other Poems written by Erin Cawood at www.erincawood.co.uk.