Posted in Announcements, Blog, Book Launch, News, poetry collection, Uncategorized

How To Be Bare (Haiku) ANNOUNCEMENT

The haiku I wrote last month has been compiled into a collection called How To Be Bare (Haiku).

This collection is now on sale on Amazon.

The collection is £1.99/$2.49 and FREE with Kindle Unlimited and Prime via the Kindle Owner’s Lending Library.

Blurb: Haiku is the shortest form of Japanese poetry, consisting of only three lines. Poets can string several haiku together to form a longer poem. Traditional European haiku use a strict syllable count per line: 5/7/5. During February poets can take part in National Haiku Writing Month (NaHaiWriMo) where they can explore everything this short form has to offer. The haiku in this collection were written in February 2017 during my first time taking part in NaHaiWriMo. Some were written as a result of official prompts others just came to me. These haiku explore universal ideas of love, relationships and seasons with the intensity.

If you boy or borrow the book I’d appreciate an honest review.

Posted in Announcements, Blog, Book Launch, News, poetry collection, Story Collection, Uncategorized

Happy Launch Day To Me

I can now officially call myself a published author.

Three of my titles are now available for sale, exclusively as e-books on Amazon. They are FREE with Kindle Unlimited and Prime via the Kindle Owner’s Lending Library.

The InstaFreebie giveaway for each book has now ended. A few titles were claimed so hopefully, these will lead to some reviews.

I’m not expecting to become a millionaire. I have my feet a bit more grounded in reality. Today is also my birthday. I turned 36. I am edging closer to 40. I knew I had to self-publish now or I never would.

I can’t just wait for the things I want to happen.

Life is short and I need to do what makes me happy. Writing and publishing my work ticks the box.

I have another release tomorrow, one on the 1 March and another on the 1 March which I am finalising just now.


This is a diverse, kaleidoscope of poems and stories, many of which were published over a number of years. My first published pieces including Girl on A Riverbank, Lonely Heart Letters and Sewing Season which were published in Carillon magazine in 2009 and 2009. In For The Sake of June, a woman struggles to keep smiling in the face of her daughter’s struggle with anorexia. In The Left of Centre, a young man pays the price for breaking from his routine and investigating animal mutilations in the area. In What Will Be, an old woman realises she is haunted by events from her past. In The First Sight of the Enemy, a woman is confronted by the harsh reality of her affair with a married man. These pieces and the rest of the work in this collection cover a wide array of subjects including love, death, grief, desire, growing up, getting old and struggling to find your way in the world.

Buy/borrow here.


Everyone is capable of sin. You, me, the old woman on the bus in the seat across from you who nibbles a packet of cheese & onion every day, the woman in the business suit you see on the subway every day who’s always on her phone, the old woman who lives next door and never opens her curtains, even the chubby, red-faced, slightly balding man who’s usually ahead of you in the chippie queue every lunch time. Lust is considered by many as the most cardinal of sins but is about more than surrendering to passion. The Girl In Question is told from the viewpoint of a man who has impure thoughts about his teenage daughter’s friend. Them Next Door is narrated by a gossip dishing the dirt on her unsavoury neighbours. Waiting to Breathe is about two people struggling to define what is acceptable touching when it comes to friends with benefits. These stories and the others in this collection explore the many different aspects of lust; an intense, often all-consuming desire for someone or something.

Buy/borrow here:


Not everyone is happy all the time. Some people are unhappy most of the time. I used to be the latter. For as long as I could remember, I knew something about my life didn’t quite add up. Years of bulling emphasised the fact I wasn’t like other girls. I grew up thinking I had a red circle around my head with the word ‘Freak’ inside it. My life changed forever, for the better in 2003. I fell in love with a woman, some stranger I saw on the bus every day. If my life was a fairy tale we’d have ran into sunset holding hands. Real life tends to be a little different. She never loved me back, of course, this isn’t one of those stories. My heart got broken. I cried a lot. I realised something fundamentally important about myself I sort of like girls. This was a revelation, a key that unlocked my heart and I was happier, healthier and better for it. The fairy tale never happened. I fell in love, got hurt, picked myself up, got knocked back down and just kept going, feeling my way into a bright new world with a wide open heart. The poems collected in My Heart, Laid Bare were written over a period of two years when I was still learning who I was and who I wanted to be. They explore the themes of sexuality, love, growing up, relationships, desire, passion and loss.

Buy/borrow here:

Posted in 2017 Writing Challenges, Blog, First Drafts, Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing Journal, Writing Notebook, Writing Stuff

Saturday Afternoon

heavy rain stoats off wet
pavements, creates ice cold
splash, sodden skin, chill

Copyright © 2017 by Pamela Scott

This is my effort today for NaHaiWriMo

I used the prompt from their FaceBook page – NATURE to write about something unique to the area where I live.

Rain is not unique but Scotland is known for having very heavy rainfall at times during every season of the year.

Posted in 2017 Writing Challenges, Blog, First Drafts, NaHaiWriMo, Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing Journal, Writing Notebook, Writing Stuff

A Secret Place

Gold Padlock Locking Doorsolid oak, marked
with scratches, no window, shut
against the world, blocked

hear you behind it
with her, laughing, teasing, happy
without me, falling, lost

Copyright © 2017 by Pamela Scott

This was my haiku yesterday for NaHaiWriMo. I forgot to post it yesterday because I had so much work to do.

I used the prompt on NaiHaiWriMo’s FaceBook page – A DOOR.


Posted in Uncategorized

A Feast Of Scraps (Poems & Stories)

coverI finished the final proof-read of my collection A Feast of Scraps (Poems & Stories).

I made very minor changes.

The image on the left is the final cover. However, I will need to change it because the title and my name cannot be read when the image is a thumbnail, which is the size it would be when on sale.

I have uploaded the book to Lulu with this cover and created a paperback. I have ordered a copy to be proof-read which is required by Lulu. I will need to order a second copy once I have changed the cover.

I have decided, after doing some research to make the e-book exclusive to Kindle via Amazon’s Kindle select program which means the book is listed as part of Kindle Unlimited and Kindle Owner’s Lending Library (Prime perk).

This applies to the other two titles I will launch at the same time.

The books will be free for their duration of being part of Kindle Select. This will allow me to use some great resources that send out newsletters to subscribers for free and heavily discounted ebooks.

After Kindle Select is done the titles will launch on Smashwords as well.

I found out that Amazon pay royalties for every page of your book that I read when part of Kindle Select / Kindle Unlimited.

Posted in Uncategorized

This Happened One Night

One night when I was drunk I climbed
on the stage beside the dance-floor
and made a drunken oaf of myself.
My arms flailed wildly as I
stagger danced from side to side,
sung loudly and out of tune
and did embarrassing grind/thrusts
against the leg of a young girl who
looked wide-eyed and in fear of her life.

One night when I was drunk I thought
it would be a good idea to flag down
a taxi – while staggering down the white
line and using my top as a flag.
It didn’t quite register that I was
flashing my bra at everyone.
I thought the tooting horns,
flashing lights and shouts were
some lovely men volunteering
to be my Knight in Cracked Armour.

One night when I was drunk I got
into a fight with a junkie at the fish-shop.
She was accosting people and begging
for money, aggressive and nasty when everyone said ‘no’.
She started on me when I staggered out the shop
brandishing a portion of fritters with
vinegar and tomato sauce like a lifeline.
I listened to her junkie tale of woe
and started laughing in her face, while
tearing off little bits of fritter and chucking them
into her face. The more she shouted the more I laughed.
She lunged at me, pinching and slapping me
and making sounds like a wild animal.
I shoved her against the lamp-post.
Someone called the police and we were both arrested.

One night when I was drunk I passed out
in the back of a taxi. I woke up in a heap
by the side of the road. I’d puked at some point
and had sick all over my clothes and matted
through my hair. One of my shoes was missing.
I hunted all along the street where the driver
had booted me out but I never found the shoe.
The heel was broken off the other one.
There wasn’t as much money as I expected
in my purse but I couldn’t be sure I hadn’t spent
it all. When I’ve had a few drinks I just hand over
money like my purse has no bottom. I don’t
have enough for a taxi. Maybe that’s why the driver
chucked me out. I need to walk 6 miles home, shoeless.

One night when I was drunk I tried
to climb on top of a bus shelter.
Things didn’t really go according to plan.
There was a wheelie bin lying on
the ground next to the shelter. I tried to
use this for leverage, standing on
it and grabbing the roof of the shelter.
I tried to pull myself off the bin using
the roof and ended up dangling in mid-air,
feet flailing like mad. One hand slipped
and I went down like a ton of bricks.
Both feet went right through the
side of the bin and spilled me, laughing
onto the pavement. I was too drunk
to think about how bruised and sore I’d be the next day.

One night when I was drunk
I fell asleep in a cubicle surrounding
the dance-floor of my favourite bar.
I’d been mixing wine and vodka all night,
a combination which hits me like
a sleeping pill, knocking me out.
One of the bouncers woke me up and
escorted me off the premises. I didn’t go very
willingly. I got gobby and angry,
spitting into her face and making threats.
She took delight in telling me I was banned
and my tears and stuttering apologies did nothing.

One night when I was drunk I couldn’t
get into women-only night at a new club.
I’d gone to a couple of pubs before hand
knocking back vodka and coke and pints of cider.
By the time I arrived at the new club I was
wasted. I could barely stand and needed to use
the wall for support. The bouncer said I was
too drunk to get in. I tried to get into a fight with him,
all indignant and accusing him of slander. I couldn’t
even form complete sentences. He just laughed
in my face and shoved me. I tried to push him back
and ended up lying in a drunken, crying heap
while everyone laughed at me.

Copyright © 2016 by Pamela Scott

This is the first poem of my 20 Signs Things Are NOT Okay sequence. I plan to turn each line into a seperate poem. 

Posted in Uncategorized

Writing Journal 26 July 2016


I edited my story, The Secret Eater. This story is from my Gluttony section for my collection of stories inspired by the seven deadly sins.

An insecure woman develops bulimia when she starts dating someone. She is on the heavy side and doesn’t understand why he wants her and is afraid he’ll leave her.

I made a few minor changes. I corrected spelling and typing errors. I added some detail.


I’ve decided to stop writing my collection of poems about an intense, unhealthy relationship. I just can’t get it to work at the moment. I will write it someday but this isn’t the time. Tomorrow, I will start to work on my sequence about bullying that will use a similar structure to The Adoption Papers by Jakie Kay.


I’ve decided to change the tense for my novel, The Ballad of Sarah Rose to the past tense and see if I prefer this. Past tense is the most comment narrative style. Very few novels are written in the present tense.