Novel Research 

19th JUNE 2017

With our Hugo snoozing peacefully on my dark purple duvet, I wonder how the hell I’m going to get up and out of bed. I throw my back the duvet, which unfortunately wakes him up and not only have I upset him by rousing him from his dream of chasing next door’s cat across the road, I also realise with a horrible lurch I’ve upset my orange juice. After using several expletives which don’t succeed in calming myself down but help me to vent my anger, Hugo jumps off my bed in fright and bolts out the door. I use his absence to mop up the spillage with tissue paper. Job done, I head for the shower with my red towel (for my favourite team).

Today is going to be fabulous! I, little me, am going to the very scary place at the bottom of Castle Street in the City Centre – well, I had thought of it like that as a child, when the reality is that it’s just where the criminal cases are heard. It’s a vital experience, purely for novel research purposes. First though, I’m meeting a contact of mine who will show stick and me where we need to go. So, back in my room with my belt not doing as they’re told and realising with horror I’m buttoning my shirt up the wrong way, I sigh. A disadvantage of being severely visually impaired is that sometimes, I stress, not all the time, you fail to actually see what’s in front of you – that’s why stick is so incredibly useful when I’m out and about.

Eventually, with everywhere locked up downstairs, buttons done up the right way and belt fastened properly, with Hugo waiting patiently by the front door to be let out, miaowing his head off and with stick by my side, the three of us head into the porch. I quickly lock the rear door before I open the red door to outside, Hugo races across the road, four paws sprinting. I lock up the front door, leaning stick against the wall in the process, then I pick it up and we’re both off on our big adventure.

On the bus to town, I’m bricking it! Even with my earphones and Rod Stewart’s Beautiful Morning – my favourite song – to calm me down, I’m still bricking it. After what feels like forever, the bus stopping outside the big Tesco on Hanover Street, I cross the road to Liverpool One, and walk through to Lord Street, where turning left, I see it. The big brown building, set slightly back as there’s a large walkway, LIVERPOOL CROWN COURT.

Fortunately, I had exchanged numbers with my contact the week previously, so I sent him a message, to let him know I’m outside, and he briefly says. Come inside. My excited nervous feeling steps up a notch, so I head inside. He comes down a silver spiral staircase in his wig and gown, and I’m too used to seeing him in his suit and tie, I’m taken aback. He shows me where the lift is, asking me how my weekend was, and tells me which courtroom I’m going to.

The lift stops and I follow him cautiously down a corridor before stick and I are outside the courtroom, and it’s far from what I expected. Having watched Silk and Law & Order: UK, I’d been expecting the dark wood panelling of the Royal Courts of Justice in London, but it isn’t. It’s oak wood panelled with a navy blue carpet and a side where members of the public could sit, if they wished, and watch.

He shows me inside before quietly explaining he has to go back to his trial. I sit down on the bench, placing stick carefully against the seat in front, and begin to watch.

Writing – Part One

MAY 2017

Waking up in a darkened bedroom, the new shutters we’d installed at the beginning of the week had managed successfully, I might add, to hide all of the summer light from making its way into my room, I sat up, swinging both legs over the side of the mattress, feeling somewhat optimistic as to the day ahead – until I very nearly walked into the cat. What followed was an exchange of swear words, for all of five minutes (mainly from me) directed towards a furry black animal whom I do love dearly and with all my heart, just not when he refuses to budge from his position.
It was a Friday morning, the day after I’d archived a load of files for where I work seven hours – really one day, (if you include the hour for lunch – which I always do, I have a weird obsession with even numbers!) a week, and back in my room after a shower, I was dressed and had my favourite dark red satchel packed with… my writing kit! I was off to make my dream of being a published author come true – well I was on my way to it, I think! Consisting of a slightly battered but still in excellent condition iPad Air, a Hardback moleskin A5 notebook, a pen with a chewed lid (my horrendous habit of chewing my pen top I have unfortunately never seen to grow out of, even since childhood) and my glasses case. 

When I’d opened my shutters I hadn’t expected the sun to beam down and nearly blind me, so I popped my glasses case into my satchel and went downstairs to lock up everywhere, chasing the cat down the stairs and into the kitchen, he walked lazily to where the cat flap was, and that was him leaving for the day, I locked everywhere up. Then had a heart attack as I’d forgotten someone very important. I retrieved a very heavy, coming up to waist height – which for me, isn’t much being only just over 5 feet, white stick. My lovely reliable walking aid. It’s always with me, wherever I go, it’s even more reliable than the furry black animal, so together ‘stick’ as I affectionately refer to it, and I, were on the way down the road to the local Costa Coffee to begin my novel. 

Sitting in a very comfortable armchair at the back of the shop over two tables and stick, with a 7Up poured into a glass of ice and divine chicken and bacon toasted sandwich, the bread covered in cheese, I sip my lemonade, open my notebook to the page with all of my plot breakdowns, fingers to the Scrivener app on my iPad and begin to type the words after I had written a particularly important, quite frankly, vital one. PROLOGUE. 

Only thing is, I’ve got no idea what to write next. 

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About SW

I grew up in Liverpool, where I’m privileged to say I still reside.

I’m currently a criminology student, and I’m most likely to be found with my iPad and notebook adding a few more words to the novel I keep saying I’m going to sit down and just write – only I always prioritise something else, and never end up getting round to it.

When I was younger I found myself enthralled by crime dramas on the television – I credit Life on Mars and Ashes to Ashes as one of the main reasons I got into watching BBC dramas avidly and from then on began my never ending daydream of ‘When I’m older, I’m going to be a writer’ – that was seven years ago and I’m still nowhere near the 20K mark of my book.

I only hope one day my dream of being published and on the shelves in Waterstones will come true, well, with a lot of hard work beforehand.

When I see my name in print, I will achieve my life time ambition.

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