The magic of the Mundane

…Is that even possible?


To embrace normality, to enjoy every day tasks, to look forward and have fun at work… That might sound potty, to find comfort in all things dull and boring. However, as I can now reflect without anxiety upon events of last Wednesday, here I am one week later, finding joy in sitting at my desk. Please forgive me if I can not explain in details the circumstances which have caused so much distress. I fear that I do not know who is reading my work and although my blog posts are shared on Twitter and Tumblr only and not Facebook (where I know some trolls live) I am still reluctant to talk freely for fear of any further explosive outbursts.

In other words, I am far too intimidated to complain.

So I have been cryptic, I am vague, but even these few words are all aid in my processing events and regaining some measure of myself once again.

This I have found in embracing all the normal every day shite which is usually mindbogglingly boring. I am fortunate that I really love my job, so being back at work is refreshing. I’m back at University class, surrounded by good friends and immersing myself in a language from a culture I adore. Even my daily bus route feels comfortable. Slowly I am becoming more of my old self again.

This shock has also ignited something else I feel I have neglected in my life. My grief. Instead of refusing to accept this emotion, I’m actually starting to accept the fact that I do miss my Mum and I need to allow myself to grieve, that it’s alright, it’s not something to be ashamed of.

Maybe sometimes a unpleasant situation might awaken deeply buried feelings? I don’t know, I’m not an expert on such circumstances, I’m just plodding along at my own pace, finding my feet again, putting life back together in my own way and accepting new emotions that have arisen. Writing helps me put all these cryptic clues into perspective and although it might not be interesting reading for you, you beautiful cupcakes that read my mad scribblings, please trust me, this, along with my mundane tasks, it all helps me to shine once more.

… And a shiny Anne means more stories…

Thank you for being there, where ever you are, whoever you are, just thank you for being you  x


Love Anne Harrison



Gathering my Thoughts

Reflecting on current events…

I’ve not written to you for a while,  mainly because I’ve been exploring regions with limited WiFi, which can be nice. To step back in time to an era where your phone isn’t pinging every few moments with a new ‘like’ on something someone else said weeks ago and is still doing the rounds…

Secondly, I have not written as I have needed to give myself some time to (try) and process a very traumatic event last week.  Mostly I fear I’ve become some dandy snowflake, easily offended and reduced to tears by harsh words. Yet being threatened with my life, feels like more than simple harsh words. Even if the threat was shallow and directed at not just me personally… I saw my companion shaking so deeply with shock, that in reality,  even harsh words may have a physical effect.

Forgive me if I am unable to go into detail regarding events. However I can assure you that this did not happen abroad,  but instead on home soil. Even writing so much, so vaguely makes me feel ill at ease inside. My nerves and anxiety have taken days to calm down, my thoughts churn events like a tornado of words…

I am reduced to a weak and feeble female and I hate the fact that someone can destroy my peace of mind so wretchedly. I need to regain myself and my independent spirit that ventured forth to begin with.

I can not allow one bitter vile person to ruin who I am, when in reality I (hopefully) will never cross paths with them again.

But currently, I just need a little time…

… Thank you for reading x


Anne Harrison 01.05.17

WiFi at last! 

After a week of exploring,  I’ve finally found a WiFi signal… It’s been refreshing to detach myself from the Internet and travel to astonishing destinations.

I feel like I have so much to write about,  but an early flight and sleepy eyes makes it hard to type,  I thought I would share a few of my photos for tonight, hope that is alright with you beautiful darlings?
Love Anne xx






I have so many ideas brimming around the corners of my mind, haunting my dreams, characters knocking at the door of creation demanding life. Yet my time at the keyboard has been limited by real life adventures around the country and beyond off to foreign wilderness, ever inspiring my frantic mind, fueling my desire to write despite my inability to do so.

I have notebook and pen packed with me, I have freedom to scribble notes and pour forth my dreams onto paper. The next six scenes have already been played out, yet by the time I get to kill my darlings, I know the plot could change. That is why I love the freedom of writing without thought, to allow my hands to direct the course of action.

I have visited some incredible places and the list of locations before me is even more impressive, I am nervous, I am excited, I hold anticipation barely in check and I know that inspiration will follow me like a bouncy puppy, jumping up always needing attention.

I see inspiration in art, in buildings, in scenery, in the people I meet, the people I pass, in my dreams, in literature, in starring out the window absently watching the world pass me by. Words flow into my brain, cram my thoughts with ideas… I might need a bigger notebook.

I should like to write about my travels too, if my characters ever let me, and I can try if I find WiFi… For now, I must return to work… Even that I can find inspiring!

I will try to write Part 70 at lunchtime, it’s a lovely number to leave you on until I return full of words and slim of wallet…


Love Anne x





The Photos on my Phone 

Pulling myself up off the ledge and finding my wings…


I found a way to make me smile

I found a way to lift my day

I found a few sad memories

And some forgotten memes


My gallery

This is where I’ve been

Who I’ve seen

My life captured in snap shots


People I adore

Places I’ve explored

Music I’ve lost myself to

Art that makes me weep


This collection helps me see

How fortunate my life is

I have freedom and adventure

Cute selfies and so much to remember


I am so very blessed

Even in times of emotional mess

I have my pictures to remind me

The gloom is fleeting slipping away


For I am so content to have my gallery x

Anne Harrison 03.04.17

90th Blog Post

I had thought about writing something really profound and deep and meaningful…

… But then I decided I would share some photos instead, highlights of my year (so far)


… 2016 has been an interesting year to say the least, with an interesting cocktail of (family) tragedy, stress, worry … with generous amounts of adventure and experience thrown in for diversity, today I chose to focus on the positive, to grasp hold of the fantastic memories I have collected in a few short months to balance out the ongoing family situation. If you dwell too much in the negative, it becomes all consuming…


The same goes for the world beyond our own little lives. there is so much hate in the media, so much pain and disaster, we forget to see the beauty which surrounds us…           … It’s hard to see sometimes, but it’s still there, hidden away like a subtle secret.

For my 90th blog I am sharing these images to remind myself how grateful I am…


Anne Harrison 15.07.16


The Orphan King … falling into the plot trap

Part II… Following on from Writers Block and St Petersburg.

I want to introduce you to The Orphan King, the story, the character and the concept which emerged in my little befuddled mind during my visit to St Petersberg …

As the title tells you, my main protagonist is a King and he is an Orphan, this already provides you with some unspoken information. Firstly his sex, apart from my use of the pronoun ‘he’ a King generally refers to a Male. (though I expect someone, somewhere has altered Regal gender roles in their literature).

In this case my King is male, he is described as an ‘Orphan’ … Now an adult who has grown up, sired children of their own and outlived their parents are not generally referred to as an Orphan… Hence my King is very young… The ‘Orphan’ title also suggests that a major tragedy has befallen our young King, instantly providing my character with a whole back ground story which has lead him to the position of a King… and how does one so young maintain a grip upon his precious position?

Intrigued? Hooked? Bored?  … instantly compared to ‘Game of Thrones‘… (Which I confess I have not read) but anything fantasy based with regal conflicts automatically appears to get referred to Game of Thrones… IMO… However this is always going to be a challenge for any writer, that their work is instantly compared to existing examples of literature within the same genre, usually the most famous names and most popular stories…

However, I was hooked by my own plan and spent any free moment I could grasp frantically scribbling down ideas, names, characters, place names, guild names, relations, countries, days of the week and even religion… My world development flourished as swiftly as I had a plot structure and timeline for my young King, his kingdom and closest companions, deadly enemies and love interest…

The pencil skipped across the pages in my notebook in a flurry, my handwriting resembling arcane hieroglyphics as my hand struggled to keep up with my flowing thoughts.

Then I hit a sudden horrible realisation in my work… I had reached a stage in my story where everything ‘classically’ goes wrong, that point where the whole kingdom falls down around his ears and everything I had built up, his trials and tribulations dissolves into chaos… The character ‘crisis’…

My pencil skidded to a halt when this understanding finally gripped me… I had fallen into a plot trap… as much as I wanted to create something unique and intriguing, as much as I thought, believed, fooled myself into believing… I had still hopelessly (and unconsciously) followed a classical story outline… I’m not sure how I had fallen into this trap… but there is was staring me straight in the face and I ceased writing.

How could I pull myself up out of this swamp? How could I prevent my story and my sweet young King from becoming another cliche?

Do I kill him? Or do I go with the flow and keep to ‘The Heroes Journey’?

Truth is, I don’t know – I stopped writing at this point and since then I have not written another word of this story. My young King as his entire empire is frozen in time, static and immobile trapped within writers block, as I struggle between complying with the rules that we are expected to adhere to, or creating a path of my own.


Anne Harrison 11.07.16