I’ve never been brave enough to pick mushrooms in the wild. Even though I can identify the big white field mushrooms, there’s still a part of me that’s nervous, what if I get it wrong? This year, there has been an abundance of the blighters: from classic red-with-white spot toadstools to honey fungus that grow in clusters on fallen logs and trees (like the ones pictured above). Autumn finally seems to be spreading its cloak across the land, and with the dark nights and frosty mornings comes more time spent inside, and more time to write. That’s not to say I don’t write in the summer, but the lure of early morning beach walks and tending to my veg patch often eats into those writing hours.
In July, I was blown away to find out that my 107,000 word historical fiction novel was longlisted in the Goldfinch 2025 Novel Awards. It gave me a real confidence boost, as trying to secure an agent has so far been like tumble weed, a few whispers but nothing yet rooted . I’ve had a wonderful group of beta readers who have loved the book, but taking it to the masses hasn’t yet been fruitful.
Then, last week, a short piece of fiction I wrote for a Writers’ Hour Magazine competition was placed 3rd, which was absolutely delightful. I’ve popped the link to it here, and I hope you enjoy reading it.
What both these experiences have shown me is that I just need to keep stepping forward, a little braver each time. A bit like eyeing up a new patch of mushrooms – I’m not quite ready to pick my own just yet, but who knows what next year will bring!
Until next time, here’s to cosy autumn days and words that flow – Nicole x