Sunday, 22 April 2012



So no one told you life was gonna be this was way’ ©

Well in fact nobody did, tell me life was going to be this way. I wasn’t given a manual, Yoda like wisdom wasn’t imparted at the moment I left home many moons ago, nobody told me what life real life would be like. I wasn’t warned of the painful times, the toil and hard work times, the lonely times, the low times, and the downright bloody unbelievably crappy times. I had to experience them, I had to learn, I had to gather evidence and examine in order for me to know what life was, is about. But last night I was asked whether I would change anything about my life thus far and the resounding answer was OH NO! Why? Well one simple thing really LOVE, and during this life thus far, I have had the great fortune along my travels to come across some really wonderful friends and the LOVE of these really wonderful friends. This LOVE has not been more apparent to me than the last few months during the last rewrites of the book before it goes to the publishers. This LOVE has critiqued my narrative, made alternative suggestions, read countless drafts, spurned me on when I wanted to give up, encouraged me when I wasn’t sure of what I was doing, picked me up and dusted me off when I fell, wiped my tears when I cried and laughed with me when I laughed. But most of all their LOVE the LOVE of my friends has supported me through my whole ‘being a writer’ journey and I dedicate this blog to you. Yes you my beautiful circle of friends, you know who you are. Some of you are family and feel like my closest friends some of you are friends and feel like my closest family. Some of you I have known since I was a child, others I have known through my adult life thus far. Some of you are married with children some of you are single, some of you are male, some of you are female. Some of you are artists; some of you work 9-5, some of you are older than me some of you are younger and during these times you have challenged me, you haven’t agreed with me, you have asked me to see it from another perspective, sometimes you have pushed me, backed me up, stood by my side, and cheer leaded from the front lines, chanting loud and clear N A O M I J A C O B S Woohoo!! But one thing you have all in common and one thing I know for sure is that you have done all of this for me because of LOVE. And no more than now when I am doing one of the most bravest and scariest things I will ever do in my life (apart from giving birth) do I see this LOVE, do I hear this LOVE, do I feel this LOVE. Do I know your LOVE, my beautiful friends.
The other question I was asked last night was, did you always know you would be a writer and my answer was somewhere deep down inside I did, well when I was four years of age I did, and then I forgot only to remember 28 years later. But what I didn’t know and what I have learned these past four years and during the writing of I Woke Up In The Future, is how fortunate I would be when it came to friends. How LOVED I would feel and how this LOVE would be the force that kept me going. So to you my friends, I will raise my glass and toast your friendship and thank the universe, the cosmos and the powers that be, that they sent me you and your wonderfully inspiring, patient, kind, loyal, unconditional beautiful beautiful LOVE.

Your friend

Naomi x

Wednesday, 1 February 2012


The Force of Rejection

I’ve been thinking a lot about rejection and how when you are an artist of any kind, singer, dancer, painter, actor, writer, you are at some point going to put you or your work out into the public arena. A place where you or your craft will be observed, picked apart, criticised, and judged and then more often times that not rejected.
I have experienced this many times and believe it has contributed to a sense of crippling self-doubt and some I-give-up-and-am-staying-in-bed depressive states that I have battled with on many occasion. But it had me wondering, why oh why, even in the face of rejection do I carry on?
What is it that keeps me going and in spite of the constant slamming of doors do I pick myself up dust myself off and carry on?
I mean don’t get me wrong this is of course after much wailing and crying screaming and shouting to anyone that will listen that I am not and will in no way ever put myself through it again. I am talking tantrums that would rival any three year old, I stamp my feet, I throw myself on the floor while doing three sixty exorcism type spins, screaming till I am red in the face and the neighbours come knocking with concerns of a murder most horrid. No I am kidding; it’s not that bad, although nobody has actually witnessed the full force of my ruminations over my ruined life, so this opinion borders on the severely biased.

So what is it then? Well after much pondering I have come to the conclusion that it’s the force, (Yoda would be proud) it’s actually the force of rejection which keeps me going. If I hadn’t of experienced it, if I didn’t know what rejection actually felt like I wouldn’t carry on, it’s a paradox. I mean if getting to the top of your own artistic mountain was easy, you just wouldn’t do it, you’d keep putting it off until tomorrow, until one day you realised you’ve run out of tomorrow’s and its too late. It had to be hard, there had to be obstacles and pitfalls and most of all rejection, as it made me better, it made me stronger, wiser and most of all it made me go back to the beginning, figure out what I could have possibly not got right, and do it again differently. It’s the only way you improve your craft, it’s the only way you get better as an artist, and it’s the force that keeps you carrying on.

The Force of Rejection.
Is your friend, if you let it be, it’s the chisel in your creative tool box that carves your raw talent from a lump of rock into a work of art and eventually like oh I don’t know say like Michelangelo’s David, one day many will come to laud and marvel at it.

Of course don’t believe me, believe the force.

Work it does, in me trust, with you always!

(please comment below or on my face book, all references to Star Wars will be accepted as one is a major Sci-fi geekess and loves it when you quote anything from BSG, ST, SW, DC comics and Sci-fi films pre 1999)

Monday, 16 January 2012


I have finished the first draft of the second book, and feel....well its definitely a different feeling from when I completed I Woke Up In The Future. The first book was about purpose, about me finally taking a chance on myself and doing what I always wanted to to do...write. This book is more personal, yes its a follow on from I Woke Up In The Future, but has evolved into its own entity, separate from the first story. Maybe the hint of how I feel is in the title, Butterflies and Hurricanes. I feel like I have weathered a storm, been tossed and turned flipped upside down and right side up by a huge almighty hurricane, and landed with a thud. Only to lay there a while, bruised and broken, but long enough for a sort of protection to form a Chrysalis of Providence. A place of safety, security and signs, that held me together while change took place. A deep catharsis, that was unique to me, and yet when I share will hopefully resonate with many. This writing has taken me on a journey of past lives, broken legacy's and decisions made that have reverberated through my soul and the souls of others. Some call this The Butterfly Effect. So yes, I would liken my feelings to that of the peace a Butterfly seems to possess when you see it flutter from flower to flower on a hazy summers day, as you marvel at its colours and the silent way in which it agrees with the universe that it deserves its providence. A simple joy born from placing its existence in something more powerful than itself. It knows it will not last very long, but in the time that it does have, the metamorphosis it experienced, the pain of the change, was always worth it. If only to experience its true nature once. Butterflies and Hurricanes was me experiencing the true nature of me. So on to the second draft of the second book, and as I write, I will take a moment to quietly marvel at my own colours and know that all of the pain, was worth it.