Mother’s Day

My post is written today for

Mother’s Day, and gifts from her daughter, son and granddaughter were placed gently on her wooden table. Roses, pink, her favourite colour. A jar, full of sweets, and a note pad.

She loved writing stories, especially loving those books with space to create something out of nothing. The Spring sunshine, washed over her shoulders, as she poured out a glass of whisky and lemonade (another gift).

What story to write though? She had finished her novel, well everything except the editing and research. Something new, until inspiration struck her for the third time. She remembered being a young mother, watching her children grow. Now they were older, living their own lives. Reminders of what her daughter was, in the actions of her granddaughter.

Writing a children’s story, would that be so hard? It probably would, but would make a great gift. Especially if her son did the drawings, he always had an artist’s talent. She put pen to her new book, a strong, independent female character, someone any girl could accept, to show a fierce warrior with a brilliant mind.

She took a bite out of her sweet, and wrote the first sentence.

‘A doctor, that’s what she wanted to be.’

Published by writerravenclaw

I am a fifty something mother of two grown up children, and one beautiful grandchild. I have been married for nearly thirty-four years. My first book was published ten years ago. I wrote my book Sticks and Stones because of my experience of being bullied at school.

7 thoughts on “Mother’s Day

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: