How I Write

Most of my writing happens at my desk, in my room. I have a view of the garden, a pair of speakers, and a swivel chair (albeit somewhat broken). All in all, it's not the worst place to write, though I could do with a bigger desk - mine's technically just a dresser - and a chair which doesn't clank, squeak, and make disconcerting 'clunk' noises whenever I lean back.

I'm one of those people who, if the mood takes, will write anywhere. On a plane, in a café, sneakily in class, at the library... Generally, I write using Scrivener on my laptop, but if I'm not able to take a laptop somewhere, I'll just use my notebook. And if I don't have that, I'll use my phone!

Back before I found out about Scrivener (which is an amazing piece of writing software which I hold very dear to my heart), I did just use Microsoft Word; the negatives of this are that once you get past the first few thousand words, the document takes very long to load. It also isn't at all easy to keep up with where you are in your novel, or where chapters/scenes are. You end up having to scroll up and down on a lagging document, desperately trying to find something. Scrivener, on the other hand, has a 'binder' on the left hand side where you can keep every chapter in a new folder, and every scene in a new text document, and view either the entire manuscript, an individual chapter, or an individual scene on the right hand side. I tend to use the split-screen option, with the binder on the left, my manuscript in the middle, and leaping around from my notes to different scenes to character profiles (all of which are template options) on the right. It makes it so much easier!

I find that, for some reason, my optimum writing time is in the evenings. I don't know why, but I always manage to write more in the evenings than if I sit at my laptop, document open all day. I don't know whether it's because I feel that I've done all the tasks I needed for the day, or whether it's just the cover of darkness and the peace of an evening curl-up session, but the majority of my creative writing happens in the evenings.

A lot of people prefer to write in comfier clothes, and this is definitely something I agree with. I won't go as far as pyjamas, because then I will just fall asleep, but easy jeans & a shirt, or leggings and a strappy top and I'm all set. This is probably one reason why writing in the winter months is a little easier than in the summer - you can cosy up in your jumpers, throw some thick, fluffy socks on and no-one can judge!

One final, very important factor is of course music. I constantly have Spotify open, playing whatever new music I'm obsessed with (currently Troye Sivan, Ellie Goulding and the one and only Adele). Though, having said this, sometimes pop just won't get me in the right mind-frame, so when that happens, I'm all for soundtracks! Strangely, the Finding Nemo soundtrack is amazing to listen to for writing.

I hope you liked this little post; I know I can't be the only one who loves knowing other people's writing habits! Until next time...

My 3 Favourite Skincare Products

I have really troublesome skin, and by that, I do mean I've had a lot of trouble with acne. I think I was lucky in some respects, because most people tell me they never noticed my acne (I've never been sure whether to believe them or not), but I started getting spots at the age of ten. The problem started after a bike accident I had, which landed me in hospital, and I quickly developed acne.

This year, I've finally come out the other end - over eight years later. I won't say it's been pleasant spending the entirety of my pre-teen and teen years struggling with spots, but there are a few products I have grown to love in the last few months.

First off, there's the Simple Anti-Blemish Moisturiser. This is a facial wash you use with warm water, and I've found it works really well. It has natural antibacterial properties, which is great for acne-prone skin or people like me, who've just managed to get rid of full-blown acne. It says 'results from day one', and after the amount of time I spent trying products as a teen and finding that even the ones which said 'results within two weeks' were a lie, I was delighted to find this one actually worked!

Next off, there's the Garnier Micellar Cleansing Water, though sometimes I use the Simple Micellar Water instead. Either of these work wonders; I've been using these since around June every day, and I don't have any complaints. I wasn't sure what micellar water was supposed to do (I managed to pick it up for free at a promotional stall in Covent Garden) but I fell in love. It helps tremendously with blackheads, while also serving to remove makeup. I try not to use this on its own, because normally I'll use a face wash beforehand for a more thorough routine, but on those nights when you just want to plonk into bed and not think about anything involving effort, this is a brilliant one-step cleanser.

Finally, there's this: bio oil. My parents introduced me to this probably a couple of years ago, but I didn't find it at all helpful while I had acne. Bio oil is supposed to help re-hydrate your skin, and also help get rid of blemishes/stretch marks/help with aging skin. If you've had acne yourself, you'll probably know how many unwelcome scars it manages to leave behind. While I had acne, I noticed no change, but that was a problem I found with the majority of products I used. Now, though, I try to use this several days per week, usually before bed, in place of a moisturiser. I always find proper moisturisers are too heavy for my skin, but this pretty much multi-tasks for me. I have noticed improvements in my acne scars, fading slightly, but this does take a while - it recommends consistent use for three months to see a genuine improvement.  There's one other thing I use this for, though, and that's for under my eyes. This stuff is brilliant for helping skin tones.

Everything I've mentioned is available in any good drug store/supermarket, and the bio oil is the only one over a fiver, but it lasts ages - after consistent use for around eight months, it's not even gone down half a centimetre. If you use it on a larger area (a friend of mine used it on her back after a post-op scar) it will be used a lot faster.

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This content was not sponsored. All opinions are my own.

Short Story Sunday | 1

He faded into consciousness that morning, feeling like a cloud floating blissfully along in a blue sky of hope and dreams. He wouldn't open his eyes; not yet. It was too good a feeling, tucked up in his warm, soft blankets. It was always best to enjoy these moments as long as possible.

Stretching, he turned over on his bed. The stretch felt so good. He could feel all his muscles, grateful for the movement after such a deep sleep. Everything was wonderful. He didn't have a care in the world as he curled up and rolled onto his side.

Until he rolled too far.

All at once, the beautifully soft covers, the perfect warmth, and his blissful sense of peace fell away and he flung his eyelids open. He was falling, down, down, and there was no floor, no end, no up and no down; he couldn't see anything but dark, hear anything but the wind rushing past him, knocking his breath from his lungs. He flung round and round, and suddenly there was a speck of light rushing towards him, getting larger, until it was on top of him and he could see a bright yellow sky, and he was falling from it.

There was ground beneath him, but it wasn't normal. Everything looked like a cartoon as he pitched headlong towards it; the round, squat buildings had no dimension and the colours were wrong, too bright and definite. He continued falling, and the cartoon grass came to meet his face.

It never made impact: the ground opened up and he fell right through it. He tumbled over and over, and he wondered if he'd ever stop. The tunnel was long, winding and bending, but he stayed falling, hitting nothing. The tunnel widened and the world went topsy-turvy as he shot up from a hole in the pavement, rocketing towards the sky, past glass skyscrapers, flying cars and hoverboards, up through pink fluffy clouds.

The sky broke as he met it, shattering into pieces, but he felt nothing. Blinding whiteness surrounded him and he covered his eyes to hide them from the light. Without his sight he couldn't tell which way was up, whether he was falling or flying. The wind buffeted him around, and suddenly he was thrust around so fast his hands were forced from his face and he saw an ocean opening up to swallow him. He roared in terror as he fell, because he couldn't be flying now, and he plunged into the water. It crashed down on top of him, dragging him into its depths. He couldn't breathe, couldn't cry out, couldn't control the movement of his limbs. He was completely powerless to the ocean's will. It was overwhelming, suffocating, and he saw stars behind his eyelids. He was going to pass out soon.

Seconds later, the ocean opened up again and he fell towards the open air, gasping to fill his lungs, and he blinked in the sudden brightness. As he plummeted through the light, he watched the ocean close up above him. The light faded and changed, and he started as he crashed straight through his ceiling onto his bed.

Once in a Lifetime

Last month, I had the incredible opportunity to visit Iceland for a week. I'd been looking forward to this trip since January, when I first signed up for it. Iceland is one of the most interesting places I've ever been, not least because I've never seen such a lack of trees...

The first of our stops was fresh from the airport: the blue lagoon. It wasn't quite as sunny and blue as the website would have you believe, but that doesn't mean it was any less amazing. The lagoon was originally a man-made mistake resulting from the neighbouring geothermal power plant, but the pool is mineral rich and the water is fresh and warm. Steam billows on the surface of the water from the contrast between the cold Icelandic air (I think it was 5 or 6 degrees when I went) and the warmth of the water. The fun thing I didn't know was that in the middle of the lagoon is a bar to buy drinks using a clever little wrist band.

The north Atlantic ridge runs straight through the middle of Iceland, and this is a constructive plate boundary between the North American and the Eurasian plates. The placement of the country over this specific area means there's a lot of volcanic and geothermal activity which makes for some epic photo spots (though most of these geyser sites smell very strongly of sulphur - which, in case you don't know, smells of rotten eggs). The photo above is of one hot spring site, and it moved around a couple of years ago, destroying the old boardwalk. You can see the steam from the boiling water from miles around, and up close it was dense enough to block out the entire landscape behind it - it honestly looked like something from a Disney movie, old school style.

Another amazing activity I did during the week was seeing a lot of waterfalls. Iceland is also a glacial country, so the meltwater runs off into waterfalls. I actually had the opportunity to walk behind this one, and the power of the water hitting the plunge pool was stunning. We got absolutely soaked, as did our cameras, and fell over a fair few times because it was so slippery, but we beamed all the way through.

Possibly what I was most excited for was our "glacier walk". I say that in quotation marks, because what we were told would be a simple walk turned out to be a full-on hike. From the visitor centre to the edge of the glacier was a 30-minute hike through a valley, and then we fitted our crampons and took up our ice axes and got going. We actually tasted some of the glacier ice from a meltwater pool, just FYI. It tasted like cold water, wouldn't you know.

The hike was spectacular, and the geography student within me loved every second. The accident-prone klutz within me struggled a little more, but I managed without too many slips and trips.

One of the final things we did was supposed to be a 10km hike, which turned out to be a fair bit longer due to the main path being closed. We went, in crude terms, up, around and down a mountain. It was the last day and the first sign of trees which were taller than 3 feet high we'd had since we left from Luton airport. I'm no hiker, but I honestly had the best time on this mountain. As we climbed sheep tracks and footpaths, we were all beginning to strip off our layers, and just then it decided to start raining. Typical. (It wasn't too much of a bummer, we were boiled and the rain was cool!)

These were just a few of the amazing photos I captured last month, but they each represent something I'll never forget. Iceland was barren, powerful, colourful and the weather temperamental, and it was one of the best experiences.

Do What You Love

I'm not the first to say this, and I most certainly won't be the last, but if there's one thing I've learned over the last year, it's to do what you love. Be with the people you love, try to go to the places you love, and do the activities you love.

For me, the past year has revealed many things to me. I know who my true friends are, I know what I want out of my life right now, and I know what I love to do the most.

Two simple activities bring joy to me, and have done for as long as I can remember: writing, and playing the piano. For various reasons, I stopped both of these for many months recently, and it's done me no good. I've played since I was seven, and I had lessons for nine years. It was at this point I realised I wasn't enjoying it anymore, and I pinned the reason why: I'd never really been able to play what I wanted. I'd always been told to play this piece, that piece... It was then and there I decided to quit lessons and play the music I wanted. Back in spring, though, I was going through a very stressful time, and on top of that, I was struggling with tendonitis in my arm, so I stopped playing.

Writing has always been my other escape. I find it easier to write creatively when I'm in a good place mentally, which is why I tend to go in phases. Sometimes, though, I hit a brick wall and it's like a kick up the backside to get writing again to drag myself out of whatever slump I've gotten into. Writing saves me from myself, I think. I can always express myself through writing, even if what I write isn't how I truly feel when I look back on it. I love it when I feel like a huge weight has been lifted after a good writing session.

As of now, I'm deciding to be back in the game. Tomorrow, I'll resume my old morning regime: wake up, eat breakfast, play the piano, go to school. It worked for a decade, and I plan on making it work once again. Regarding my writing, I think this here is the first step. Clear my thoughts, clear my head, get a good night's sleep. I've been working up to getting back into the swing of writing recently, and I fully intend on making use of all of my time now. I know I'll feel a ton better once I do, because I'll be doing what I love.