Reading Watching Eating Loving

Reading: The Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan. I am loving this book, it is a journey tale so far and the characters are well differentiated which I like. I hate reading a book where you can barely tell the characters apart. The story keeps hinting at what’s coming or what might be expected and this is another thing I love in a novel, and especially a fantasy novel. The main character is strong but also vulnerable, so you never know how he will manage the next challenge.

Watching: Bones (again). I just love this show, the main character is a woman who is very cerebral, like me, and is often confused by emotions, just like me. I don’t envy her that job of dealing with death. I used to read the books by Kathy Riechs and enjoy them a lot, except for the name of the main character, which is Temperance. I’m glad in the tv show she is called Bones by her main co-star.

Eating: I’m loving comfort food right now, as we head into Winter here in Australia. I made a split green-pea soup with a ham hock and we all loved it. Lamb stew is another one we love here when the weather is warm. I make a roast lamb dinner and use the bone with some meat left on it to make the stew. So good.

Loving: having my son home at last after years of him living overseas. He and his wife live with me here now and it’s great.

Camp NaNoWriMo 2022

It’s been a while since I last posted here. Life has been traumatic and I’ve been recovering, and now I’m ready to hit the words again.

I am continuing to write my fantasy novel, working title Winter Raven, and hoping to get a lot of words down during April, using Camp NaNoWriMo as an accountability tool and a way to give and receive support as I go.

This time around, I’m plotting and planning instead of my usual pantsing – flying by the seat of my pants – method. I’ve even bought post-it notes, highlighter pens and markers in matching sets of colours to keep track of my cast of characters.

I want a desk just for planning and writing my book, so I can spread out my notes and planning pages without having to pack them up every time I want to write. My bedroom needs to be completely moved around so I can use what I’ve already got to serve the purpose.

It’s good to be back. Thanks for reading. x Rachel

Hello World

Hi, I’m back! I’ve been in a bad headspace for a couple of months, but I am sick of waiting for my head to clear, so I’m just jumping back in.

I love watching lively vloggers on YouTube to get inspired, they can be enthusiastic about pretty much anything and I feel energised myself. The one I love at the moment, who got me back in front of my work today, is a writer who makes videos about her process, her writing and other parts of her life. She’s fun.

I had my nails done since I last wrote, so I’m typing with flat fingers to avoid stuffing up too much. It’s a bit slower, but I’m not hating it. I do like having pretty nails and I guess it’s a writer compromise.

I am going to read back through my story so far, and see what I love and what I already know I need to edit. This will ground me back in the work and get my juices going. I have to prepare myself to revisit this first draft writing, I know I’m going to find terrible mistakes I overlooked while I was just getting the words down.

My story, as I left it, was focused on Ash and Ryan as Ryan finds out for the first time that they are pregnant. This couple who have vowed together to never have kids. Ever. It’s a tense moment and I haven’t yet decided what his reaction will be. Will he hug Ash, be dismissive about the pregnancy, get angry, or some other emotion? Who is this guy? Because this is the moment we really see who he truly is as an individual and who he is in the relationship.

Now that I’m a few paragraphs in, here, I’m feeling a lot more positive about getting going again. Mind you it is 1.29am and I find early mornings very peaceful and filled with promise, possibility. Before anyone else is up and about. Before anyone in the house has needed anything from me.

Welcome back to my writing world, I hope you’re having a good April.

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The Naked Ladies Writing Group part 10

Ashleigh looked down at her salad and her stomach lurched. This flu, or whatever it was, was lasting way too long to ignore. As soon as she got off shift, she decided, she would talk to one of the doctors.

She drank her orange juice and threw the empty bottle into the recycling bin. At least she could enjoy juice. This thought brought up a whisper of a memory, but she couldn’t quite catch it. Probably nothing, she thought, and walked back into the hospital.

Her work completely engrossed every thought for the next few hours, and she pushed past the nausea.

She was pleased to see Lin Lee come on shift and waited until changeover was complete before she went to talk to her friend who was an excellent doctor. But Lin didn’t know what to make of her symptoms either.

“Have you done a pregnancy test?” Lin said, eyebrows raised.

“What? No!” Ashleigh said.

“Do it,” Lin said. “I’ll get you one.”

Ashleigh stood in the hallway, silent, taking shallow breaths. It wasn’t that. She told herself, and she’d do the test to show Lin she was wrong and they could move on to other, better possibilities.

Lin came back with the test and pushed Ashleigh in the direction of the toilet. Ashleigh reluctantly shut herself in the stall and unwrapped the test. Her mind was blank as she peed on the stick and waited for the result.

She’d had glandular fever eight years ago, this was just a relapse or a flu that the relapse was piggybacking on. Not pregnant, not pregnant, not pregnant.

The pee crept up the stick and two pink lines appeared, changing Ashleigh’s life forever.

She grabbed her phone out of her pocket and started to call Ryan. Then she cancelled the call. This was best dealt with in person. Dealt with. That was how she felt about this situation, it was something that somehow had to be dealt with.

She stood up and pulled her knickers up without remembering to wipe herself. She didn’t notice the wetness. She didn’t flush. She washed her hands and walked out into the hallway, looking for Lin.

Lin could tell the result by looking at Ashleigh’s pale face. She jogged down to her and took her hand, directing her to a chair. Ashleigh sat down plop and almost dropped the phone and the test.

“I’ll call Ryan,” Lin said, taking Ashleigh’s phone.

“No!” Ashleigh said. “I’m going home now. He’s picking me up in ten minutes. I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are,” Lin said. “I’ll just tell them I’m walking you down. Wait here a minute for me.”

The walk from the ward to the carpark was shorter than Ashleigh remembered it being. Maybe it was the shame, regret and fear boiling around in her gut that brought her faster to the moment she was dreading.

There he was, driving up early, waving to her, and she was about to explode his world, upend his universe.

“Good luck,” Lin said as Ashleigh opened the passenger door and got into the car. She waved to Ryan and went back to the ward. She’d have loved to have been a fly in that car about now.

“Hey gorgeous,” Ryan said. “What’s that? Someone’s pregnancy test? Now you really are bringing your work home.”

Ashleigh said nothing. She stared through the windscreen at nothing. She felt absolutely nothing.

“Babe,” Ryan said. “What’s up?”

She turned to look at him. She felt like this was a last look somehow, the last time she’d look at him before she told him the news they had both never wanted, never anticipated. Ever.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, a nervous habit of his. He drove them through the city traffic, to their home. He held her hand as they walked to the door and he let them inside.

“Now, what’s up?”

Ashleigh looked at him, took a breath and held up the test.

“This is mine,” she said. Simple as that. “Ours.”

“What?” He said, putting his keys in the pretty ceramic dish on the table beside the front door. They’d bought the dish on one of their adventures overseas.

“Baby,” Ashleigh said, simply. “Ours.”

Ryan looked into her eyes without saying a word. The puppy had heard them come in the door, and she was whining to be let out of the laundry where she stayed while they were at work.

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The Naked Ladies Writing Group part 9

NOTE: Hi, and thanks for coming back to my blog in 2021, welcome if this is your first look.

As Fia sat in traffic, she found herself pondering the story she might write, in a tropical setting. Who would be her main character? A woman, a really beautiful woman with smarts and a sassy attitude. Someone who pretty much got whatever she wanted through her wits and her assets.

Who was she though, this character? What did she do for a living? Fia decided it was time to plot out the story. She decided she’d put time aside each day while she ate lunch and dinner to write. She’d create the bones of the story and then fill it all in. It would be fun.

How hard could it be to write a book? Millions of people have written books.

As for the writing group, she had to find a way to pull Ruby into line.

Fia’s phone rang through the car speakers and she answered it, partly to distract herself from thinking about how to tell Ruby she needed to be nicer, especially to Mia.

“Fia, love, it’s Sammy your favourite brother,” Fia immediately regretted answering the call.

“Hi Sammy,” she said. “What’s new?”

“All kinds of things, sis,” he said.

“How are the gyms going?” She said and noted the pause.

“That’s the thing I’m ringing about really,” he said. “Calling my brilliant sister for some business advice to be honest.”

“Advice?” She said. Advice had to mean trouble, and if he was calling her at all, the trouble was probably already way out of control.

“Advice, help, assistance, you know so much about business, girl,” he said.

“Is that the surf in the background?” She said. “Are you at the beach?”

“This is the thing, see,” He said. “I’m in Queensland researching a new business venture. I’m here for a month at least, and I need someone at the gym office, someone who can sort things out for me.”

“And you’re calling me why?” Fia said. Someone blew their horn from behind her and she put her foot down and drove through the green light.

“You’re the smartest one in the family, we all know that,” he said. “Dad said I should call you. I wouldn’t bother you, sweet girl except it’s mum and dads house on the line, see?”

“You borrowed against mum and dads place?” Fia said. She was looking for a side street to take, so she could pull over and have the argument she could feel coming.

“They wanted to support me, and Barton Gyms were such a great idea you know.” He said. “Anyway, you’ll need to call the accountant, talk to the managers at the gyms, sort things out for us.” He said.

“This, this is not my problem, Sam.” Fia said, taking a left and nosing into a no standing spot. “This is you, and your businesses, and mum and dad. Not me.”

“Bit rough, not caring about family, Fifi,” he said. “Hang on a tic love,” she could have sworn she heard him open a beer bottle.

“That’s crap and you know it, Sam,” She said. “who else have you called?”

“Oh all of them,” he said. “But none of them know about business like you do. In fact they all recommended I talk to you. Come on, Fifi, just take a look.”

“I can’t believe you’re putting this on me,” she said. “I have enough to do, running my own company.”

“Yeah, and I bet you’ve got it running as smooth as silk,” he said. “I bet it runs itself,”

“It does not run itself.” Fia said, punching the steering wheel with her fists. “I work every day of the week,”

“Geez love, that’s a bit much,” he said. “Maybe it’ll be good for you to have a distraction, a kind of side project. We all know you work best when you’re juggling a whole lot of stuff. Multitasking they call it. I’m so bad at that.”

“I’m on my way to…” she said.

“Fifi, I gotta go,” he said. “I’m needed, shall we say.”

“What the,” she said.

“Catch up with you once you’ve got a plan, okay? Bye, bye butterfly.” He said and the call ended.

Fia was breathing fast, her heart was pounding, she wanted to throw up. She started to call her father, then cancelled the call. She screamed. She jumped when she saw a man in a grey uniform standing at her window, looking into her car at her.

What? She mouthed at him, and he gestured opening the window. She pressed the window button, and lowered it just a few centimetres.

“Are you okay, miss?” The man said. “You seem upset,”

“I’m fine,” she said.

“It’s just that you can’t park here, at least not while I back my truck into the driveway there. I need the extra turning space, see?”

“Alright,” Fia said. “I’ll leave now, got to be somewhere anyway.”

She’d warned her parents not to get involved in any of Sammy’s business ventures. They’d laughed and told her they wouldn’t be so stupid. Wrong apparently. As she turned the car around in the side street, she called Ash. There was no way she’d be able to front up at the gym office until she’d had a chance to vent.

Ashleigh was sympathetic, and Fia was grateful she was able to talk it out, but Ash couldn’t help in any practical way. Fia called her accountant next, talked to her about the possibility of getting some assistance. The accountant told her to look at the books and get back to her, once Fia knew what she was dealing with. If it was too complex a problem, the accountant would step in right away.

Fia made a few calls, reorganised her afternoon. There was no way she could work until she knew the whole picture. Sam was right about one thing; Fia’s own company was running well.

Fia drove into a completely empty car park at Barton Gyms. Not a great sign right there. She walked in the front door to find six staff members sitting in the welcome area, laughing over a shared joke. None of them were wearing the uniform, two of them were in jeans.

“Hi,” she said. There were a couple of sheepish looks and one person wouldn’t even make eye contact.

“What’s happening here?” She said. I sound like an angry librarian, she thought.

“Hi Sophie,” one guy said, standing. “You are Sophie, yes? I’m Travis Linton the manager here. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “Is this usual for a week day? No customers?”

“Yep,” he said. “Ever since they opened that big chain gym on the main road, it’s been like rats jumping off a sinking ship here.”

“Haha, you’re so right,” one guy in jeans said.

“Hey, I’m Dee, have you seen Sammy?” One woman said. “We’re wondering if we’re getting paid this week.”

Fia bit back a snappy response. “Which of you are casual employees?”

“All of us, haha,” the manager said. “Ever heard of a manager on casual rates? Well that’s me, and the other two managers, Ray and Ian.”

“Go home,” Fia said. “All of you except Travis.”

“What?” Dee said. “What if people start coming in? Who’s going to meet and greet and who’s going to sign up any newbies?”

“Please go home,” Fia said. “Management is doing it all today, in fact management will be doing it all until further notice.”

“Are you kidding?” Jeans and sneakers said.

“Not kidding,” Fia said.

The group stood and went to the lockers to take out their belongings. The manager waved them off, shrugging.

“Sammy said his sister was a bitch,” jeans and black tshirt said not too quietly.

“Don’t you come back at all, mate,” Fia said.

“Screw you,” he said, flipping the bird at her.

“Nice,” the manager said.

“Go put the closed sign up,” Fia said once everyone else had left. “We need to talk. Point me to the office.”

Travis raised his eyebrows, but he closed the gym and pointed to a set of stairs on the back wall.

As Fia made her way to the back, she noticed dust and even dirt on machines, hand weights that had not been put away and a general untidiness.

The stairs led to a spacious, open plan office area with half a dozen desks and chairs. There were cordless phones and laptops on each desk. In one corner of the room there was a kitchenette and in the other, a door with a sign saying bathrooms. Between the two, there were whiteboards on the wall with names and dates and numbers on them. They were partly worn off, as though a lot of people had walked by and brushed up against the whiteboard.

“They were for Sam’s incentive plan,” Travis said. “to try and get us to do cold calling to get some more clients in.”

Fia nodded and made her way to the larger desk that looked out through the window to the gym floor below.

“Sam’s desk?” She said.

“Yes,” Travis said. “When he comes in, which isn’t often now things are quiet.”

“Doesn’t look quiet,” she said. “It looks dead.”

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year! I hope you had a nice Christmas and New Years. We had a pretty quiet one, I think we’re all waiting for a sign that 2021 will go easier on us.

It’s day two of the new year and it seemed like a good idea to print out all I’ve written of The Naked Ladies Writing Group so far.

After I printed it out, I read through it with a highlighter pen and cringed more than once. It’s a first draft and they are always horrible, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to see the mistakes I’ve made.

It’s obvious that changes will benefit the story, but when you see where changes need to happen, you wonder how you didn’t see it in the first place. It’s so easy to beat up on yourself.

When you’re writing, you have to trust what you come up with in the moment, and get it written down. Overthinking can kill creativity.

As I write my first draft on my blog, I’m going to have some regrets. The idea that I’m putting imperfect work out there for the world to see is a bold one.

I’m what they call a ‘pantser’, which in the writing community refers to a writer who writes the first draft without plotting or planning, by the seat of our pants.

As the new year lies before me and my first draft calls my name, I’m tempted to take a wander in the land of the plotters. Maybe just plan out the chapters? Write a few pages outlining where the writing needs to go to tell the story I want to share.

But no, I don’t seriously consider giving up my pantser style. What will I write next? Who knows? Probably something that will need some serious editing later on.

Bring it on, 2021, this pantser has a story to write. I can’t wait to see what comes out of my fingers and onto the screen this week.

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Good luck with your writing!

What I Learned About Writing by Watching Ever After

What I Learned About Writing When I Watched the Movie Ever After

I’m a sucker for a Cinderella story, and it doesn’t take Freud to work out that this stems from my own difficult childhood.

Ever After is a classic Cinderella story set in France some hundreds of years ago. Drew Barrymore is fantastic as Cinderella and Angelica Houston is great as the step-monster.

For the first half of the movie I didn’t recognise Dougray Scott as the prince, he is just such a perfect spoiled royal.

The movie was more than just entertaining for me, it taught me about writing. The main characters are as they should be, but the minor characters really flesh out the story, taking it from simple to extraordinary.

The character of Leonardo DaVinci first seems a distraction in the story, and a hindrance to the prince, but ends up being a crucial part of the tale and he is nicely woven in by the detail that Cinderellas childhood buddy is an amateur artist.

This taught me that clever associations can add to a story as long as they carry things along.

Jacqueline De Ghent, the younger step-sister, is written as the lesser daughter, the imperfect and to her mother not at all useful extra child. In the story she acts as our bridge between Danielle, Cinderella, and her mother and sister.

Gradually Jacqueline becomes more and more outspoken about her unhappy life and in the end sides with our heroine.

This character taught me about writing a gradual shift of allegiance and why it might begin. At first, the character doing their best to fit in, all the way through to rejecting the very thing they thought they wanted so much.

Fictional characters are a lot like us in that think they know who they are and what they want. When a character gradually realises that they need to pursue a different course, we can relate to that.

As a reader, or a writer, we want what we want from characters and when they surprise us it’s a gift.

When we watch a movie or read a book, we see from the outside looking in at the lives of the characters and we recognise parts of ourselves in each one.

The Baroness Rodmilla De Ghent, the step mother, doesn’t change at all throughout the story, and that works well. She knows what she wants, which is to have the regal life she feels she deserves, and she is ruthless in her attempts to push her elder daughter forward to achieve her desire.

This taught me the importance of sometimes creating a character incapable of shifting from one single-minded attitude.

There’s one scene where Cinderella and her step mother are alone and the step mother speaks about her upbringing by a mother who sounds a little unhinged.

The one small fact that the step mother shares is enough to make you think that there was a good reason why she turned out unbalanced herself. From this one scene I learned the power of a single detail.

The character of Gustave is Cinderellas friend from childhood. He is a simple character; friend and amateur artist, but the story-tellers use him to show what Cinderella is thinking through conversations.

This taught me to use seemingly insignificant characters to show rather than tell what is going on for the main character. This is a really important part of writing. Finding ways to show, not tell, is part of the business of good writing.

I love this movie so much,and being able to learn from it is the icing on the cake.

Thanks for reading and I hope you have a creative day.

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Write your life, know yourself,

Rachel

Character Development: Ashleigh

Ashleigh Julia Maiden was the third of five children born to a mother who went from simply not coping to being almost bedridden with depression.

Wendy, Ashleigh’s eldest sibling, did her best to run the house while their father worked fourteen hour days away from the home.

When Ashleigh was ten, her mother made her first suicide attempt, swallowing a lot of pills.

Ashleigh learned one thing that stayed with her her entire life; never have babies. Never, ever have babies because they only break you, make you miserable, keep you down.

Ashleigh met Ryan Austen on their first day at university, they were both studying to be registered nurses. Ryan asked her out the second time they took the same lecture.

They went out for a Chinese meal, and got on like a house on fire.

Ryan was the eldest of four boys and they swapped stories about growing up in a big family.

On their first date, Ashleigh had blurted out that she would never want to have children. Not ever. Ryan had laughed and said me either. They had fallen in love quickly.

When they went out, if they saw couples with kids, they’d share a secret smile. Crying babies had them reaching out for one another’s hands.

Ashleigh used to joke that she was born without the ability to get clucky, without a biological clock.

Their siblings, meantime, produced nieces and nephews at a fast rate. Ashleigh enjoyed playing the favourite Aunty. She loved and spoiled those kids. She hosted girly sleepovers and she and Ryan took the kids camping. They did it all on their own terms.

She acted as birth partner for one of her brothers wives and the experience, as incredible as it was, only confirmed her and Ryans choice.

Ashleigh got a plum job as a critical care nurse in a big city private hospital. Ryan went into Aged Care, working in a nursing home in the suburbs.

They had their perfect life. Nothing could spoil it. Except maybe an unplanned pregnancy.

I Had A Bad Writing Week

This week has not been a great week for me. I had a blood glucose test that kicked me out of ketosis (I’m on the low carb keto diet) and this impacted my body and my mind. As unlikely as that might sound, it’s the truth.

I’m one of the lucky ones who went on keto and discovered it gave me loads of energy, clarity of mind and it’s helping me to lose weight. I’m so grateful for that, and when I went to the pathology place and the nurse handed me the glucose drink and told me that it was going to kick me out of ketosis, I wanted to cry.

I was frightened that I’d never get back into ketosis.

I love ketosis, it is my new stronger, happier reality. People ask me Isn’t the keto diet too restrictive? and I tell them I couldn’t care less about how few foods I can choose from.

I no longer have the insane cravings of a food addict that were driving me to gain more and more weight each year.

My addiction was centred on baked goods like pies and apple turnovers, custard tarts, also big fat cheeseburgers and fries. I’m a savoury tooth, so extra helpings of spaghetti or fettuccine were my downfall, too.

I now forget to eat and have to grab a chicken salad or some bacon and eggs. I feel satiated every day, I never crave junk food or take away food. This is truly life-changing for me.

I had the blood test on Monday, and by Thursday I was starting to feel like my old new keto self again. It was an enormous relief.

Last night when I tested myself, I was back in ketosis and boy was that a great feeling.

I’m not writing this to tell you to go try the keto diet, although I do recommend it if you’re asking, I’m writing to tell you that I have not been able to work on my book this week because my head was muddled and my body was in pain. I’m ready to write again now.

I don’t have my results back yet, that happens on Monday. Whatever the outcome of the blood glucose test, I’ll be happily going about my keto lifestyle, feeling ready for whatever happens next.

Write your life,

Rachel

Character Development: Sofia – Trigger Warning

NOTE: I’m giving a trigger warning here, because Sofia has a past that contains trauma which may trigger some people.

Sofia Faith Barton was born into a cult where her parents were enthusiastic about keeping all the rules.

Being a girl, she and her sister suffered under many more of these rules than their brothers. Don’t cut your hair, don’t wear make-up, don’t wear shorts or jeans, only skirts or dresses, no pierced ears, no boyfriends unless they were found by the family, the cult.

She was taught from a young age that women were responsible for men’s arousal. If a woman was raped, she probably asked for it. If a woman was touched at work, she definitely asked for it somehow.

When Sophia got her first job at fifteeen, in a small local cafe, the owner would pinch her bottom each time he walked behind her, which he made sure to do often. Sofia dreaded this, but she didn’t outwardly react, knowing with certainty that this was her fault. After a while, he moved on to holding her hips and pushing himself close to her as he passed behind her. This made Sofia physically sick, and she began to take days off, preferring the unhappy company of her mother to the shame she felt at work.

She finally broke down and quit, and although she was surrounded by family, she felt utterly alone. She had no friends and she could never tell her family what had happened  at work, because she knew that they would blame her and probably punish her, and she hadn’t said a word at work, for fear of being ridiculed and shamed.

She told the family that she didn’t know what was wrong with her, she just wasn’t coping. Her father yelled at her for quitting a perfectly good job without consulting him. He soon found a job for her with a friend of his who owned a bookshop.

At first, it seemed as though this would be better than the cafe. At first, the owner of the bookshop didn’t lay a hand on Sofia. But then, a regular delivery man, Adam, became very friendly with Sofia, telling her little jokes. Each visit to the shop, he made a point of getting close to Sofia, and one day he touched her on the forearm, and she felt immediately stressed. She knew she’d done something wrong for this man to touch her.

A touch to the arm turned into a hug when he arrived, a hug when he left, then the seemingly inevitable bottom pinching. Not to be outdone, the shop owner caught onto this and started pinching Sofia as well.

The senior shop assistant was a sour older woman who would frown and sneer at Sofia whenever the men were around. Sofia knew that the woman knew that she was a slut, one of her fathers words for women of loose morals.

Sofia, still in her teens, knew exactly what she was by now. She was a slut, a loose woman, one of those filthy dirty teases her father had been talking about for years. She was deathly afraid she’d be raped next.

Sofia liked the saying that you might as well be hanged for a sheep, as a lamb, and so she made a decision to stop trying to be modest, and dressed as she wanted. She was less careful how she spoke to her parents, and searched for someone to marry, in the hopes she could escape the cult.

A friend of the family had a son, older than Sofia, and not completely ugly. He, Simon, was an accountant in his fathers firm and had liked Sofia since she turned sixteen.

Sofia and Simon sat together at cult functions and family gatherings for six months and then Simon proposed. Sofia quit her job the same day, and the cult approved. A married lady should look after the home, so Sofia ought to be following her mother around, learning how to be a good, virtuous wife.

They married less than a year later and moved into the flat that Simon owned, in the city. Immediately, Sofia spoke to her husband about keeping away from the families, and she was shocked to learn that he agreed completely. He, like she, had no interest in cult life, let alone the families. Simon had his own story of abuse, his by an elder in the cult.

Simons abuse impacted his self worth, to the point that he could barely make a decision in his life. He suffered with untreatable impotence and blamed Sofia entirely.

He told her that he found other women attractive, and they gave him the right feelings, the ones his wife should have given him.

Simon found a new job in a bigger accounts firm, and started hanging around with a few guys from work. They went out evenings, and took weekends away together. Simon always came home so much happier, so Sofia didn’t mind.

Sofia had done some online courses, learning marketing and website design. Simon had helped her to set up a business, and she’d done well. People liked working with her, they found her kind, smart and trustworthy, so word of mouth led to more business than she could handle on her own. She’d employed her first person, Louisa, a woman of course, and together they’d grown the business even more.

When Sofia was twenty five, Simon told her they needed to get a divorce. She wasn’t shocked. When her parents came to the flat howling with rage and disappointment, Sofia told them that Simon was gay and he deserved to have his own happy life. She’d thought her father was going to die on the spot.

They had demanded she come home, so they could all pray over her. Sofia had laughed and reassured them that she had a plan for her life and it didn’t involve any prayer.

Simon had done well in his job, and had played the stock market successfully for a few years. They had lived pretty simply, and had a good amount of money saved, between them, which they split equally.

Sofia looked for an apartment in a city suburb near the beach and found a one bedroom fixer-upper she could afford. Dark wallpaper peeling from the walls, bright orange benchtops in the kitchen, Sofia loved it. She installed air conditioning as a priority, and set up her desk in the living area, looking out through the other buildings for a glance at the blue ocean.

Working hard and renovating the apartment took up all of Sofias time. When it was time to sell and find the next bargain, she was able to move that little bit closer to the beach. Her new disaster of an apartment was on the second from top floor of a solid brick building, and gave her glimpses of actual sand and waves. She felt very grateful, and pleased with herself.

She now had two bedrooms, and after she’d moved in, she set to work on the bigger bedroom, turning it into a nice, spacious office with room for her and Louisa, and a client or two.

She renovated from the front door to the office, and to the guest bathroom, so that clients wouldn’t have to be confronted by the old shag pile carpet and lime green walls.

Sofia’s real success had come from her YouTube channel where she offered business advice, tips and tricks and courses for women. Her long black hair, green eyes and elfin features, the way she spoke clearly and yet without pretension, her happy smile due mostly to her independent life working with only the nicest women.

She wrote a book that had sold well across the world. Then she’d written a book about her life growing up in a cult and it had done even better.

She was prospering, having fun, and yet something was missing. She shrank from the thought that it was a man. Yet, she did feel ready for a relationship. As she’d always done, Sofia thought long and hard about this dilemma.