Thursday, 1 December 2016

Day 1: A Ray of Sunshine by Glynis Scrivens

What gave you the idea for Baubles story?

This story had its origins one morning when I found an orange on the floor next to the toilet. And then I found an eye staring up at me from the bathroom floor.
There could only be one culprit, our delightful granddaughter Avery who lives with us. Living with a three-year-old brings constant surprises and incongruities. There’s something very nice about opening a cupboard to get a mug and finding a toy whale looking back at you from the shelf.

How would you describe your normal style of writing?

I suppose my writing reflects me. Lots of different interests and moods. Shades and colours. I enjoy writing short dark suspenseful stories, inspired by reading Henning Mankell. Yet I also enjoy writing slightly old-fashioned romances for Scandinavian magazines – Jane Austen meets chick lit. On any given day my style can be literary, light, dark, descriptive or stark. Just like my life. A tapestry.

Have you published other material?

I write short stories for women’s magazines and have recently celebrated selling my 400th story. My markets are in Australia, UK, Scandinavia, South Africa and occasionally the US. Alongside fiction I enjoy writing feature articles and interviews for magazines such as Writers’ Forum and Ireland’s Own.
Edit is a Four-Letter Word is my first book.

Do you have a writing routine?

“Whenever I can find the time” is as close as I’ve come to a writing routine this year. I suppose a lot of my writing gets done after my morning coffee or else late afternoon when I can’t stand the idea of waking up next day without having written anything.
The word “routine” flew out the window when our granddaughter was born. Making the most of my reduced free time seems surprisingly productive. I no longer have time to waste.

Do you have a favourite place for writing?

I write almost anywhere, so long as there is an open view. We have a beach house on the Sunshine Coast. I often write at the wooden table in the outside area, my kelpie Lucy keeping me company. I couldn’t write in a closed-in room. There’d have to be at least a big window to gaze out.

Tell something quirky about you.

I need to be surrounded by life in all its fullness. Our quarter acre block is full of palm trees, tropical ferns, bougainvillea, fruit trees. You name it. We have ducks waddling around the garden, chickens free ranging, two dogs getting up to mischief, a cat, lorikeets, and all the natural fauna here – fruit bats, ring tail possums, blue tongue lizards, brush turkeys.

Some of my companions: 

You can learn more about me and get in touch at 

An extract from A Ray of Sunshine


There’s an orange on the floor in the cloakroom. And[G1]  when I went into the bathroom to wash my hands, a large toy eye stared up at me from the tiled terracotta floor. It belongs to an octopus we made from an old T-shirt. The octopus, though much admired, didn’t survive its first bath-time adventure.

The sight of these random objects in incongruous places has become the norm. What is unusual is to find anything where it actually belongs.

Take the egg-slice, for example. Until this week it’s led a mundane existence, alternating between the container on the bench top and the dishwasher. When I needed it Tuesday, to turn over two eggs, it was conspicuously absent.

Not lost, of course. Everything is found, eventually. And the egg-slice mysteriously reappeared in a toy box on Thursday, none the worse for its adventure.

I wish I could say I’m also none the worse, but I’d be lying. Being sleep-deprived has never brought out my better nature. Neither has the need to read the same book aloud twenty times. Yes, twenty. I’m not sure why but yesterday I counted.

Outside, the rain teams down into the garden, which is already a bog from last week’s rain. And the week before.

I look out the bathroom window at the bedraggled remains of my lilies and roses. They thrived initially but then the soggy soil couldn’t hold the lilies upright, and the roses quietly pined for sunshine.

Just like me.

Outside the kettle comes to the boil. I walk quietly down the hall to the kitchen. Careful not to walk on a toy car. My elbow is still recovering from yesterday’s impromptu skating display. As is my rear end.

I was the only one who didn’t see the funny side. It’s hard to feel amused when your tailbone sends out shooting pain and you have trouble getting up from the floor. Well perhaps it was a bit funny. But as I lift the kettle and pour water into my mug, my elbow reminds me yet again of its presence.

Elbows aren’t something I’m usually conscious of. Like tail bones, they’re largely forgotten until something goes wrong.

I stir and prod the teabag, conscious that it’s already seven o’clock. These precious minutes of peace are unexpected. If only I can sit down and drink my tea uninterrupted…



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