More than Writers

  Whether you’re a Christmas connoisseur or a ‘Bah-humbug’ kind of observer of the season, it’s rolling around with its usual regularity.   I’m an unashamed fan and, by the time you read this (if you have the time between shopping, cooking, decorating, writing cards, j uggling t he logistics of presents – both purchasing and wrapping – relatives, TV must-sees etc) I’ll have been marinading in carols and as much festive jollity as I can muster since the first of the month, as well as scheduling as many carol services as I can squeeze in. If you feel you don’t have time for writing anything this month apart from shopping lists and Christmas lists (and possibly a letter to Mr Claus should you be that way inclined or are helping smaller people who are), then I may have tidings of comfort and joy to deliver to your screen right now. Rather than sit there chewing your metaphorical pencil (thank goodness we don’t need to do that anymore, unless you’re still writing everything in long...

It was the first present I bought, the first to be wrapped and popped into a Jiffy bag ready to put on the address and take it to the Post Office. The first because the gift was for an ex-colleague who lives in Perth, not our nearby one in Scotland, but Perth in Western Australia. The parcel sat on the end of my very long kitchen table for a few days, still with no address. Then I located the address book and went to pick up the present. But it wasn’t there.  This was several weeks ago and it has still not turned up, despite several huge hunts among Christmas wrapping paper, cards, ribbons and other wrapped presents. And more widely throughout the whole house. I’m hoping that writing this now will trigger something to help me find a new place to look in my hunt. I was on the rota for Sunday school today. We usually have a clutch of pre-schoolers who attend. The first item on our timetable was to find sheep, so I hid them around the room at a suitable level to be discovered ...

I was very young when the Dead Sea Scrolls were displayed in Edinburgh and I remember waiting in a long line with my mother and sister to witness these important historical manuscripts. T he Dead Sea Scrolls include the oldest surviving manuscripts of entire books later included in the biblical canons , including the deuterocanonical manuscripts. I found them inspiring and magical. T hey came to mind recently during this season of Advent and set me to musing about writing to promote the importance of Advent and this led me to consider the types of stories written to promote Christmas. It's amazing the way the mind works. Now, so much writing and too many stories at this time of year tend towards secular characters and tales of mythical creatures rather than concentrating on the importance of the period of Advent within the Christian calendar. While Advent for us is the four-week period dedicated to the reflective preparation for the time of birth of the baby Jesus at Christmas as ...

For this introductory blog post, I’ve been reflecting on the words we use about ourselves—especially the ones that hold us back. Whether in faith, creativity, or everyday life, our inner narrative shapes far more than we realise. In my various roles, I’ve seen how quickly self-doubt can silence a unique voice—and, conversely, how beautifully confidence grows when we dare to share our words. How often have you heard statements like these? “I can’t draw” “I’m rubbish at baking” “I’m useless at writing”. It is fair to say that these indicate a sense of self-sabotage that is both negative and damaging. It is sad that our inner critic’s voice is the one we hear the loudest, and life should most definitely not be like that. These statements often come from old comments, and they become so familiar and convincing that we believe them. But they are echoes of old moments, not truths. One of my great joys in life is to run a local writing group in Bampton, Devon, where I live. We are ...

  How are you doing? My day started badly. Tears of indignation flowed at the airport this morning while surrendering a sewing needle which should never have been taken. Not the most pressing issue I’ll grant you, but it triggered a realisation that God and I needed to do business about a whole lot of things I have been burying and not acknowledging. My writing suffers when I bottle issues, so I am now sitting on a plane doing essential audit and maintenance with the On High. I am coming to terms with a few post 60yr old disintegration issues, and I am sorry about quite a few things I haven’t previously admitted to. Of late, life has felt like a mini course on waiting on God, which Psalm 25 pointed out and my grandson’s slippers became a useful tool of explanation. As winter’s chills approached, I needed to sort Timmy’s slippers out. One had been lost over the summer and happily after a serious clear out, came to light. Carefully I placed them in the cupboard under the stairs. Thu...

Time truly flies. On 11 December 2022, I began my journey on the More Than Writers blog. It was a bittersweet time, as I had just lost my mother and was navigating the depths of grief. Writing became a therapeutic outlet that allowed me to reflect and heal, so I could do a memoir and start on the blog. Now, as I look back, it’s hard to believe that three years have passed. These three years have been a profound and rewarding experience. I’ve learned so much, not only about myself as a writer but also about the incredible community surrounding me. I want to take this opportunity to express my heartfelt thanks to everyone who engaged with my posts in countless ways. Your contributions, comments, and feedback were always insightful and deeply appreciated. I am equally grateful to the ACW committee members for entrusting me with this meaningful role. Being part of this platform has been a privilege, and I’ve cherished the opportunity to contribute to our community while also growing along...