A wonderful evening was had by all at The Granville Legacy online Facebook launch party on 17th March 2021. I am truly grateful to my co host, author and pet artist, Anna Maria Shenton and to my guest author Val Penny for all their support. I’d also like to thank all authors who generously donated prizes and of course to everyone who made it to the party.
We had lots of fun and prizes throughout the event and I’m pleased to announce the winners below.
Prize Draw 1
To win a copy of Margaret Royall’s, Where Flora Sings.
Name any Shakespeare play.
The Prize Winner drawn was Suzi Bamblett
Find out more about Margaret Royall’s lovely poetry book and her other workshere
Prize Draw 2
To win a signed copy of House of Grace or The Coal Miner’s Son. Runner up – a surprise giveaway from author Joy Wood
What type of mill did Katy’s dad own in Bolton?
Answer: Cotton mill.
The Prize Winner drawn was Tania Crosse who chose a signed copy of House of Grace
Runner up was Sally Freytag who won a signed copy of Joy Wood’s novel, Who’s Smiling Now.
And the day has finally arrived. The Granville Legacy has made its entrance into the world and completes the House of Grace trilogy. The trilogy runs from the 1950s to late 1980s and the story covers romance, family conflict, fashion and tragedy.
Taster – Opening Chapter of The Granville Legacy – The formatting has been a little messed up on here – but don’t worry, it isn’t in the book.
Chapter 1
George
20th December 1980
I put my hands over my ears to drown out the girls screaming as they raced around me. Annalise might’ve only been five but she made an awful lot of noise. She and her sister, Lori, were fighting over the last Christmas bauble.
Vikki clapped her hands. ‘Stop it. Both of you.’ She turned to me shaking her head. ‘You have to be firmer with them, Uncle George.’
I laughed at the little madam. Vikki, at ten, could be precocious at times, but she was right, I wasn’t strict enough with the girls. They knew they could behave like little monkeys with me and get away with it.
Granville Hall’s tradition was to have people in to decorate the Christmas tree but I’d insisted it was my job and foolishly had allowed my young sisters and niece to assist. I was fast regretting that decision. ‘In that case’ – I held the golden bauble up in the air – ‘I think it’s time Vikki had a turn.’
‘No. It’s not fair. Please, George, let me.’ Annalise gave me her pleading smile.
‘Not this time, young lady. You and Lori have done enough.’
Lori folded her arms. ‘George is right. It’s only fair Vikki has a turn.’
Vikki took the glass ball from my hand and hung it from an empty branch on the tree. ‘There.’ She twirled around. ‘Doesn’t that look pretty? Can we carry on playing our game now, please? Hurry up, Annalise, it’s your go.’
I picked up Tinkerbell. Although a bit tatty, and showing her age, she meant more to me than any of the shiny baubles. The lone survivor from my childhood Christmases at our two-up two-down terraced house in Wintermore. I was overwhelmed last year when Grace presented the wrapped fairy to me a week before Christmas Eve. It was like having a piece of Da with me. I could still see him placing Tinkerbell on the top of the tree. Afterwards, Mam, Alice and I would clap. Although I was only nine when he died, that memory was precious. My Da the coal miner. Now here I was, Lord of the Hall, not that I wanted the title. George Gilmore suited me fine.
Annalise jumped up off the floor. ‘Tinkerbell. Hurray. Lift me up so I can put her on the top.’
‘No, Annalise,’ I said firmly. ‘Go back to your game.’
She wiped her hand across her eyes. ‘But I want to put Tinkerbell on the tree.’
Lori pushed her sister out of the way. ‘Well, you can’t. If anyone’s doing it, then it’s me. I’m the eldest and I’d like to put the fairy on the tree, please, George.’
‘You’re only two years older than me.’ Annalise smacked Lori across the arm.
Lori screamed and slapped her sister back.
‘Stop fighting.’ I looked to Vikki who smiled her approval. ‘Neither of you are doing it because I’m waiting for Grace.’
‘How come you call Mummy, Grace?’ Lori asked.
‘I just do.’
‘But why?’
‘I’ll tell you one day when you’re older. Now go and play.’
Lori grabbed Vikki’s hand. ‘Let’s finish our game.’
Snow was lighting on the window, a deep curtain forming, and it was covering the ground. I willed Grace and Adriéne to arrive soon. They were due back an hour ago.
‘George, Lori’s being mean.’ Annalise was crying again. Grace would say it was excitement.
I sighed. ‘Play nicely.’ Hurry up, Grace. Whatever possessed me to offer to look after these three? And where was Alice? My sister was being a pain. She’d been gone ages. ‘Let her play with you,’ I said firmly to Lori and Vikki.
‘We are but she’s throwing a tantrum because she got knocked off. Look.’ Vikki pointed towards the fireplace. ‘She chucked her blue counter across the room.’
‘Annalise.’ I rolled my eyes.
Annalise screamed and threw herself on the floor, kicking her legs. As soon as Alice came back in, I’d get her to call Annie to watch them, I was worn out. Too bad Vikki’s nanny had the day off when Elizabeth and Simon, Vikki’s mother and father, had gone down to cousin Victoria’s. With Grace and Adriéne joining them, Alice had volunteered us to watch over the girls but where was Alice?
Sniffling, Annalise stood up and tugged on my shirt. ‘Please let me do Tinkerbell, George, then I’ll be good. I promise.’
‘No, I told you. I promised Grace we’d wait.’
Annalise’s mouth dropped and she started crying again.
Alice charged into the room. ‘George, quick.’
I rushed over to the doorway. Alice’s face had paled. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s Mum.’ She sobbed.
Lori was up off the floor and standing next to me. ‘What about Mum? And what’s wrong with Alice?’
‘Nothing for you to worry about,’ I said. ‘Vikki, be a big girl and watch Annalise and Lori for me, while I speak to Alice.’
She nodded and became a little mother. ‘Come on, let’s go and play house.’ She took both Lori and Annalise’s hands and they skipped across the room.
‘Whatever it is, Alice, take your time. Tell me what’s happened.’
She breathed quickly. ‘… a car crash.’
‘Are they both okay?’
‘I don’t know. They’ve taken them to Golden Oak Hospital. Oh, George, what happens if she dies?’
‘Let’s not think like that.’ I put my arms around my sister. ‘Listen, can you find Annie or Joan and ask one of them to come and watch the girls so we can get to the hospital?’
‘I’ll try.’ She sobbed, shaking.
In next to no time both Annie and Joan were in the room. ‘You get off George,’ Joan said, ‘Annie and I can manage the children between us.’
‘Thank you, Joan. I’ll ring from the hospital as soon as we know what’s going on.’
‘Girls,’ I called, ‘we’ve got to pop out to buy some more presents to go under the tree. Joan and Annie are going to look after you.’
‘Hurray.’ Lori jumped up and down.
‘Be good. All of you.’ I kissed the girls on the cheek, one by one. Taking a deep breath to calm my banging chest, I left the room.
*
The chauffeur pulled up outside Accident and Emergency. Alice and I stepped out of the Rolls.
‘Would you like me to wait, Sir?’ he asked.
‘Yes please, Eric. Why not park up and pop inside for a hot drink? It’s too cold to sit out here.’ The snow had stopped but it was still bitter.
‘Thank you, Sir.’
Alice and I rushed through the entrance. A receptionist looked up as I approached the desk. ‘Excuse me,’ I said, ‘our mother, Grace Gilmore and her husband have been brought in following a car crash. Where will we find them?’
‘Let me check.’ She ran her finger down a ledger. ‘Grace Gilmore you say?’
‘She may be down as Grace Ardant,’ I added.
‘Ah, yes. We have an Adriéne and Grace Ardant. I’ll get someone to show you where to go.’ She called to a porter, ‘Matt, can you show Mr and Mrs Ardant’s family to the relatives’ room please?’
‘Certainly.’ He whipped across to where we were standing. ‘Come this way.’ We followed him along the corridor and through a set of swing doors. He pushed another door open. ‘If you’d like to wait in here the doctor will come and tell you what’s going on.’
‘Thank you,’ I said. Alice said nothing.
The hospital had tried to make the place homely. A red poinsettia brightened up the windowsill and a stack of magazines lay on the small coffee table.
‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ I asked Alice, signalling to the buzzing vending machine lighting up a small corner of the room.
She shook her head and paced up and down. ‘I just want to know what’s happened to Mum.’
I flicked through the magazines. ‘Here, Alice, there’s a Look-in. Something about Paul McCartney. Sit down and have a browse. I’m sure Grace and Adriéne will be fine.’
Alice snatched the magazine out of my hand sending it flying. ‘I’m not interested in the bloody magazine. What’s the matter with you? Aren’t you worried?’
‘Of course I’m worried.’ I picked the pages off the floor. ‘But one of us has to hold it together. Look at you, you’re no good to anyone like that. Grace isn’t going to want to see you in that state.’
The door creaked open.
‘Why don’t you both sit down?’ The doctor led us to the couch and chairs, not meeting our eyes. With a serious expression he fiddled with the chart.
‘Are they okay?’ Alice asked.
‘Sit down please, Miss…’
‘Gilmore,’ I said.
‘I’ll get a nurse to get you some tea. But first…’
‘Please just tell us,’ I said.
‘I’m afraid…’
Alice gripped my hand. ‘Please let them be okay.’
‘I’m sorry to have to tell you that Mr Ardant died at the scene.’
‘Oh my God.’ I turned to Alice.
She screamed. ‘No. Not Adriéne. George…’
Shaking, I looked up at the doctor. ‘And Grace?’
‘Your mother suffered a head injury but she’s conscious. We’ve sent her to X-ray as a precaution and we’ll know more once the results are back. From the police reports I’m surprised that she got out alive. Someone will come and let you know when she’s back on the ward.’ He patted Alice’s arm. ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ The doctor left us alone.
‘Poor Adriéne,’ I said, ‘he was such a good man.’ I thought back to that Christmas Eve when he’d asked my permission to marry Grace before proposing. A kind man who made her happy and a great stepfather to me and Alice. How would Grace cope without him?
Alice blew her nose. ‘Do you think Mum will be okay?’
I hugged my sister. ‘I hope so.’
*
After what seemed an age a nurse came through the door. ‘Mrs Ardant’s relatives?’
‘Yes, I’m her son.’
‘Your mother’s back on the ward. You can come and see her now.’
‘Thank you.’ Alice gripped my sleeve jacket.
We followed the nurse down the corridor and into a side room.
‘Mum.’ Alice rushed over to Grace.
‘Grace.’ I kissed her grazed, bruised cheek making her wince. ‘Do you remember what happened?’
‘The car skidded. Adriéne clung on to the wheel trying to keep control. A lorry. I remember a lorry. There was so much blood, on me, but worse for Adriéne. Blood was running down from his head.’ Grace sobbed into her handkerchief.
I squeezed her hand. ‘I’m so sorry, Grace.’
The doctor came into the room. ‘Mrs Ardant, I’m pleased to say the x-ray shows no sign of a bleed on the brain but we’d like to keep you in overnight to check for concussion.’ He turned to me. ‘I think you and your sister should allow your mother to rest. If all is well she can be discharged tomorrow.’
‘Thank you.’ I let go of Grace’s hand. ‘We need to go now but we’ll see you tomorrow.’ I brushed my lips gently against her forehead.
‘Bye, Mum,’ Alice said. ‘Don’t worry about the girls. George and I can cope and Elizabeth will be back shortly.’ She kissed Grace lightly on her cheek.
*
Grace was sitting up in bed staring into space when I arrived at the hospital the next day.
‘Have they discharged you yet?’ I asked.
‘I’m still waiting for the doctor. Who’s with the girls?’
‘Annie and Alice. Alice wanted to come but I said it didn’t take two of us.’
Grace pressed her temples.
‘Are you in pain?’
‘A bit.’
‘Have they given you any painkillers?’
‘They offered but I didn’t want anything.’
‘But if it helps… Oh look, here’s the doctor now.’
It was a different doctor today. This one was older. He looked over his spectacles at Grace’s chart. ‘How are you feeling today, Mrs Ardant?’
‘As well as can be expected.’
‘I’m sorry to hear about your husband.’
‘Thank you.’
‘How do you feel about going home?’
‘I’d rather be there than here.’
‘Good because I’m about to discharge you.’
‘Is there any follow up required?’ I asked.
‘Just watch out for any signs of vomiting, dizziness or memory loss.’
‘She said she’s in pain. Should she be taking anything?’
‘Don’t fuss, George.’
‘I can see you’re looking out for your mother. Paracetamol if she needs something.’
‘Thank you,’ I answered.
The doctor signed the paperwork. ‘Once the nurse arrives, Mrs Ardant, you’re free to go.’ He shook Grace’s hand.
A nurse pushed a wheelchair into the room.
‘Ah, here she is now. Nurse will escort you to your car. Good day.’ The doctor left.
‘Did you bring some clothes for your mother?’ the nurse asked.
I lifted a canvas backpack from the floor. ‘Everything’s in here.’
‘If you’d like to wait outside while she gets dressed.’
‘Certainly. I’ll pop out and make sure the driver’s ready.’ I walked out of the room, along the corridor, downstairs, and towards the main entrance. Eric was standing outside by the Rolls, smoking. I gave him a thumbs up. He raised his hand to confirm he’d seen me and stubbed out his cigarette. Checking my watch, I rushed back to Grace just as the nurse was pushing her out of the ward in a wheelchair.
Grace protested. ‘I said I can walk.’
‘Hospital policy I’m afraid.’
‘Don’t give the nurse grief, Grace. Let her do her job and we’ll be home in time for lunch.’
I walked alongside the nurse as she wheeled Grace along the corridor, into a lift and through the exit to where Eric was waiting by the car with the rear door open. He helped Grace into the back seat.
‘Take care, Mrs Ardant.’ The nurse looked at me pointedly.
‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I’ll take good care of her.’ I climbed in next to Grace.
‘Why do these awful things keep happening to me, George? As soon as I find happiness it’s stolen away. What have I done to deserve it?’ She cried on my shoulder as the driver pulled away and drove us home.
All books may be downloaded FREE with Kindle Unlimited
If you’d like to celebrate the launch of The Granville Legacy with me – pop along to an online launch party on Facebook. It’s FREE and there will be lots of prizes. Online Launch Party
Another new character in The Granville Legacy is Charles Redmayne.
Who is Charles Redmayne?
Charles Redmayne is a widower in his fifties.
With silvery-coloured hair and sapphire blue eyes, he is very distinguished looking.
Charles wears good quality tailored clothing.
He carries a little extra weight around his girth.
What impact will Charles Redmayne have on the Granville and Gilmore families?
To find out you’ll need to read The Granville Legacy – the final book in the House of Grace trilogy.
The Granville Legacy is released on Wednesday 17th March 2021 and can be preordered on Amazon Kindle here.
If you haven’t read House of Grace and The Coal Miner’s Son – you can download on Amazon Kindle for 99p/99c until Midnight 16th March 2021 and then the price goes back up.
I promised you details of new characters that come into The Granville Legacy – the final book in the House of Grace trilogy. You’ve seen Jessica the Ferrari, Murphy the Stallion and Ginny the Red Setter. Today’s character moves to the human form and a female in her thirties Kathleen Meadows.
Who is Kathleen?
Kathleen is from Wintermore, the fictional village just outside Wigan.
She’s a blonde and has long straight hair.
Kathleen possesses a fabulous figure and she’s not afraid to show it with her low cut blouses and mini skirts.
She’s rough and ready but Grace Gilmore sees something more.
Where will Kathleen Meadows fit into the House of Grace story.
You can pre order The Granville Legacy in Kindle format here. Release date Wednesday 17th March 2021.
If you haven’t been introduced to the Granville and Gilmore families – now could be the time as House of Grace and The Coal Miner’s Son prices have been slashed on Amazon Kindle at 99p/99c but the deal ends Midnight 16th March 2021.
To download a copy of House of Grace at this price – go HERE
To download a copy of The Coal Miner’s Son at this price – go HERE
Did you know that House of Grace is four today? If someone had told me ten years ago that I’d write a family saga trilogy, I think I’d have laughed. I hadn’t even considered writing a novel – to be honest I struggled to write a short story. Poetry was always where my heart was. That was until I started my BA with the Open University. It was during the final dissertation that I wrote House of Grace as a screenplay and realised – hey I could write this as a novel. I started it while my mum was still alive and I used to get her to read the chapters as I wrote them. As it became obvious her days were numbered I frantically tried to reach the end but didn’t quite get there. After losing Mum I couldn’t face returning to my story but my loyal friend Maureen Cullen, who knows the Gilmores and Granvilles almost as much as I do, gave me the courage and confidence to continue. This resulted in re-writing the final chapters as they’d been hurriedly written.
After finishing House of Grace this sat on my PC while I continued with my creative writing studies when I enrolled on the first MA Creative Writing with the University of Brighton. I missed my characters and so when I started the Prose Fiction module I chose to begin The Coal Miner’s Son which, can you believe, is one today?
Graduating with my MA in 2019 meant I was free to work on the next novel and The Granville Legacy was born. I had hoped for this final book in the trilogy to be published today but things were slowed down due to the pandemic – however, readers won’t have long to wait to find out what happens in this last chapter of the trilogy as it will be released in kindle format on the 17th March 2021 and paperback 25th March 2021.
To celebrate the birthdays of House of Grace and The Coal Miner’s Son – from tomorrow – 10th March 2021 – the price on kindle will slash to 99p/99c for one week only. Returning to normal prices on launch date for The Granville Legacy.
Over the next week before release I shall introduce you to some new characters in The Granville Legacy. Today I’d like to introduce you to Jessica – George’s red Ferrari – Ginny – Jack’s red setter – Murphy – George’s stallion.
More from me before publication date but don’t forget House of Grace and The Coal Miner’s Son are FREE with Kindle Unlimited and from tomorrow 10th March 2021 you can download on Kindle for 99p/99c – ONE WEEK ONLY
International Women’s Day is a good time to mention that Grace Granville, although a fictional character in the House of Grace trilogy, is a strong, inspiring woman. Life throws all sorts at her but she picks herself back up and carries on. In Book 1, House of Grace, Grace Granville/Gilmore goes from a sixteen-year-old teenager, who knows what she wants, to a strong, mature woman. Grace doesn’t feature much in The Coal Miner’s Son as this story is about Grace’s son, George, a nine-year-old coal miner’s son, and Grace’s sister, Elizabeth. In House of Grace the reader doesn’t get to find out much about Elizabeth. Elizabeth is another strong, inspiring woman. Grace returns as a narrator in The Granville Legacy along with George, now a grown man.
Other strong women in the House of Grace trilogy are Nancy, Charlotte, Alice and Mandy. And although the trilogy is now finished, the series isn’t, and there will be more strong women to feature as Lori, Annalise and Vikki grow to womanhood.
The Granville Legacy is now available to preorder on Amazon in kindle or paperback format.
Although all the books act as standalones, the reader will get so much more out of them if you read in the right order of the trilogy.
It is my pleasure to introduce author, Jane Risdon, who has come along to ‘Patricia’s Pen’ to chat about her writing. Without further ado, it’s over to Jane.
Patricia, thanks so much for inviting me to contribute. I really appreciate it.
My Writing
Jane Risdon
I’m a late starter where writing is concerned. I spent years wanting to write but being in the international music business put the brakes on my ambitions. Once I retired I had the freedom to let myself go and before long I was published in many anthologies and signed to a traditional publisher for my short stories and co-written novel with Christina Jones, Only One Woman (Headline Accent).
However, I consider myself a crime/mystery writer — writing the romance, Only One Woman, came as a surprise, but I find the story dictates the genre and I can write in many genres I’ve discovered. My music experiences both in 1960s and throughout my career, helped greatly when writing this novel set in the late 1960s UK music scene.
I’ve written many short crime stories over the years and I decided to put some of those not used for anthologies into a collection of my own, Undercover: Crime Shorts (Plaisted Publishing). There are dozens still on my computer. I have several half-completed novels on there too, including a sequel to Only One Woman.
Recently I signed with an Agent who is looking to place my series of novels featuring a former MI5 Intelligence Officer — Ms. Birdsong Investigates. The first novel is Ms. Birdsong Investigates Murder in Ampney Parva: Operation Matryoshka. At present I’m working on two other books in the series.
My experiences working for the Ministry of Defence and Foreign and Commonwealth Office, as well as other government departments earlier on in my life, has given me so much material to call upon. Ms. Birdsong was screaming to be written. The Cold War, the ‘Troubles,’ in Northern Ireland, other world events were all filed away waiting for the day when I could write.
The kidnapping of Geoffrey Jackson, British Ambassador to Montivideo, by Tupamaro Guerrillas, and the expulsion of Soviet Embassy diplomats from the UK in a tit-for-tat move against the expulsion of British Embassy ‘spies,’ from Moscow, were all gifts from heaven for a would-be crime/mystery writer who would later add a dose of espionage to her stories occasionally.
Imagine how exciting it is to be Positively Vetted (PV) by a Special Branch commander who had been instrumental in tracking and arresting the husband-and-wife spies, the Krogers, who were part of the famous Portland Spy ring in the early 1960s – my imagination went into over-drive.
Later, working in Hollywood and around the world, I found more material for my writing than I ever imagined. Where there is power and money, there is crime, and intrigue. I’ve read many books giving true accounts of corruption within the entertainment industry in Hollywood — I don’t have to look far for inspiration for my material: some characters I know, and some I know about.
As a writer I’m never short of inspiration or potential material for my stories. I use my own life experiences, or those of others quite often. Write what you know they say.
About Jane Risdon
Jane Risdon is the co-author of ‘Only One Woman,’ with Christina Jones (Headline Accent) and ‘Undercover: Crime Shorts,’ (Plaisted Publishing), as well as having many short stories published in numerous anthologies and writing for several online and print magazines such as Writing Magazine and The Writers and Readers’ Magazine.
Jane’s collection of crime stories, ‘Undercover Crime Shorts, was book of the Month onvirtual library and festival site, MYVLF.com, and her live video interview features in their theatre. She’s a regular guest on international internet radio shows such as theauthorsshow.com, chatandspinradion.com and The Brian Hammer Jackson Radio Show.
Before turning her hand to writing Jane worked in the International Music Business alongside her musician husband, working with musicians, singer/songwriters, and record producers. They also facilitated the placement of music in movies and television series.
It’s always wonderful to be approached by a blogger to talk about my books but particularly when this request has come all the way from St Louis. This was the case when Christal Ann Rice Cooper invited me on to her busy and established blog to talk about the background of a poem, and a poem that I had found emotive to write. For this I chose Soulmates which is included in my debut poetry pamphlet Taxus Baccata. Pop over and take a read and if you fancy a copy of Taxus Baccata – for a limited period the price for the print and pdf versions have been reduced starting from £1.99. You can order a signed copy or the electronic copy via my website HERE.
My Tuesday guest this week is the lovely Vic Pickup who has come along to chat about her poetry, including her debut poetry collection, Lost & Found, published by the awesome Hedgehog Poetry Press. Without further ado, it’s over to Vic.
About my Poetry
Vick Pickup
My poems are born from the need to extract some great philosophical meaning from everything in life. Character flaws have played a part too, as I’m an overthinker and also a bit nosey, which I consider two attributes crucial to anyone considering being a writer.
I have always loved poetry – from discovering Michael Rosen at primary school, to dissecting the classics at secondary. I was blessed to have several teachers who had a passion for literature and the enthusiasm to make it contagious. I went on to study at Loughborough University, where I stayed to do an MA in Creative Writing. After that I worked for trade magazines and then became a freelance writer before stopping when I had my second child.
I returned to poetry in 2018 after a decade in which I produced little – largely because I was preoccupied with having children but also had a bit of a self-belief crash. A writer friend suggested we set up a creative writing group which caused me to reboot, and has led to a great many things, including the publication of my pamphlet Lost & Found from Hedgehog Press last year.
I write largely free-verse poems which are accessible and, I hope, relatable. They tend to pore over a small instance or thing, lending lessons learned to other areas of life. Lost & Found contains thirteen poems drawn together by two I wrote at the start of the pandemic, which focus upon things sacrificed and gained at this time, some personal and others applicable to many. I found I had an abundance of poetry focused upon this theme. Hence, a neat bundle emerged which portrayed a journey of sorts – moving through hardship and grief, but emerging with strength. I hope the content will resonate with readers and the ultimate aftertaste is one of gratitude and hope.
Ideas tend to hit me at random and if I don’t scribble them down on the back of a receipt or my hand then they are lost. My best work tends to just pour out and requires few alterations before I’m happy, others take a significant amount of editing over time. My process and style are changing all the time as I challenge myself more – I am enjoying exploring form in particular at the moment and seeing how poems work when held by a set structure.
For me, writing goes hand in hand with processing the stuff of life, understanding myself better and creative expression which is essential for well-being. Whether I churn out a bundle of nonsense which goes into the bin the next day or write something of publishable quality, poetry is of great value to me, as is the community which supports the genre as a whole.
About Vic Pickup
Vic Pickup is a previous winner of the Café Writers and Cupid’s Arrow Competitions, and shortlisted for the National Poetry Day #speakyourtruth prize on YouTube last year. Her poetry has appeared in anthologies, magazines and online, recently published by Mslexia, Ink, Sweat & Tears, The Poetry Village and Reach Poetry. Lost & Found is Vic’s debut pamphlet, published by Hedgehog Poetry Press and featuring Pushcart-nominated poem ‘Social Distancing’. She is currently working on her first full collection
Patricia M Osborne 