Meredith Grant

Meredith Grant
Meredith Grant is an emerging Regional Victorian writer. She has been shortlisted for the Trudy Graham-Julie Lewis Lit. Awards for Prose, runner-up for the FAW Qld. Soapbox Article competition and most recently been awarded runner-up in the Writers Victoria Regional Members Writing Competition. She has also contributed to on-line Journals and had articles and personal memoirs published on-line. She studied Professional Writing and Editing at Ballarat University and has a strong focus on writing non-fiction. Her goal is to become a freelance writer where her contributions will cover her experience and knowledge on topics that sit close to her heart, including Australia's homeless epidemic, teenage depression and Australian adoption matters. She is currently working on her full length memoir she hopes to have published, until then her short memoir works are being submitted to various opportunities and competitions which she hopes will help raise her writing profile.

Thursday, 13 September 2012

Keeping up Appearances


While working on my latest piece of writing for the 2012 Soapbox article writing competition, I decided to go to the local library to kill some time before heading to my daughter's class room to help out.  With forward thinking, I went armed with the laptop and notebook in search of some much needed quite thinking time.   
What I didn't anticipate was the weekly toddler's sing-a-long and story time coinciding with the little spare time I have.
As I began banging out my sentences with ideas flowing nicely, my thought process was abruptly interrupted with "mother duck went out one day..'" and "if your happy and you know it clap your hands."  
The library, the very institution I thought I could find some solitude and meaningful quite time to think clearly, is apparently no longer that place; well not on Wednesday's anyway.   Trying to overcome the sudden shrieks and toddler outbursts, along with the ongoing songs which began to remind me of a time spent with my own daughter not so long ago, I found myself reading my work out aloud in an effort to continue with my duty as wordsmith.
As you can well imagine not nearly as much work was produced as I had first anticipated; including the fact that I was now producing work consisting of non-productive repetition.
Damn you mother duck and no I'm not happy and I'm not clapping my hands!  
Resolution: I am now resorting to burning the good old midnight oil to finish my work.  

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