I’m Moving!

Hi readers,

Just a quick post to say that I’m migrating over to a new website, over at emmasdaydreams.com. It’ll be the same as this site, with all of the posts transferred over, but with a much prettier layout and a more structured posting schedule.

This site will remain online of course, but please come on over and check out the new home of this blog. I’ve copied over subscriptions so you’ll be able to keep up to date and if you have any comments or queries about the new site I’d love to answer them.

All the best!



Camp NaNoWriMo July 2017: Day Two

It’s almost midnight here in England and I have yet to start on my writing for this month’s camp, but I am excited to start. It’ll be the first lot of prolonged writing in a good while because of my university exams etc, so it’ll be interesting to get started. Yesterday and a good portion of today went on unpacking and throwing away the detritus accumulated in my bedroom over the last four or five years. There was a lot. I’ve managed to throw away about ten bags full of papers and rubbish, with clothes to be donated, and it’s been like a cleanse of sorts.

I feel like an invisible boundary has been crossed between past and future, with all of the years post-Durham stretching ahead of me.

The image on the left, as you might have guessed, is a cropped version of my Camp novel and the photograph on the right is from graduation. Strange. I started this blog before I had even set off for university and here I am, coming out of the other side of the experience, still setting words down onto the page.

I’ve learned a lot and that is, of course, a


story for another day. The focus, for a little while at least, is going to be on starting my NaNo novel. I have no idea how to begin this one, though the thread of the story is running through my mind.

I’ll put on my music and I’ll try to lose myself in the words, once again…

It’s four minutes past midnight, a new day. The third day of July. I have accumulated 1016 words and have created the first d

raft of a prologue for the novel. It was a great exercise in character development and gave me something to think about for the next draft regarding how to introduce such a powerful character. It also involved a little bit of research (on the Senate House, Latin phrases and on the Third Century Crisis through skimming an interesting article on pandemics . Luckily the rest of the novel focuses on the fifth century, which I know a lot more about than the earlier period, so research will hopefully only consist of searching through my existing notes in that section of writing. For the first draft at least.


Fellow Campers, how is the writing going? I’d love to hear! And please, if you have any tips for writing historical fiction, I’d be grateful for them.

For now, I’ll leave you with a line from what I’ve just written:

Tributes in her name were not to make her strong, only to sustain her longer than she might otherwise have endured.

Until tomorrow my friends,



Camp NaNoWriMo July 2017

NaNoWriMo has been a part of my life since I was around twelve or thirteen and it’s something that always gets the writing juices flowing, whether or an existing project, an idea I’ve been excited about or something that just flow from nothing during the month. This time around I have a sorta-plan that I’m looking forward to putting into action from today.

It’s called ROMA. Here’s the brief synopsis/stream of consciousness I wrote a few days ago while exploring the idea.

In the days after the cities fell, no-one noticed them. Hidden on the edges of conscience, it was easy to ignore what was little more than a whisper in your ear.  Embodying all the city had represented, and all it could never be again, they stood witness over the fall of civilisation. The bigger the city, the bolder its ghost.

Roma, the young woman standing by the hearth while twelve vultures circled overhead.

London, the man rapping as if his life depended on it.

Athens, the wizened old woman standing guard over the Acropolis as the city below burned.

And then there were  the smallest, from the Tier 4 cities that no-one seemed to notice. Places like Clermont, of France, or Newcastle in England.

In the rush to flee, the ghosts of these smaller cities were confused, without the solidity and reassurance granted to its more eminent cousins by the love of those around it.

Taking form and shape, from the sightless and nameless beings they had been before, they rushed out into the world.

As you might have seen if you’ve looked at some of my older blog posts, I usually design a quick book cover to use in the posts for that story. It has been a while since I’ve been able to do that for fiction, so here you go!

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