My 50000 Word July

My 50000 Word July

A writing commitment worth writing about.

“A person writing with a pencil in a notebook with pencil shavings on it” by Thought Catalog on Unsplash

It’s been a while since I was truly able to commit to my writing. Life has that habit of getting in the way, but I’m now realising how important writing is to me, and if I’m honest, (I know this sounds dramatic), but without writing, I am nothing.

My words both define and free me, which is why, for the month of July, I am planning to write 50000 words. This won’t necessarily be all in one project, but my combined written efforts for the entire month. My aim is to hit (and hopefully surpass) that 50000 words by July 31st.

I know, it’s a big goal, and as someone who hasn’t been writing that much of late, it both scares and excites me in equal measure. I know it’s not going to be easy. Some days, I will wake up and not feel like writing even one word, but I’m hoping that if I make myself write just one word at a time, then I will slowly build up that word count, and as I do, I will be building up the habit of writing fiercely every day, until I wake up, looking forward to doing so. Until I wake up and writing is the first thing on my mind, and the last thing on my mind at night before I go to sleep.

I have an entire cast of brilliant characters, all scrambling around inside my head, just dying for me to pen them into reality, and I am so looking forward to doing that. We’ll have ups and downs, just like all character and writer relationships, but in the end, we’ll get there.

For now, though, I am just going to start by putting one word in front of the other until I have a sentence, and one sentence in front of the other until I have a paragraph, and one paragraph in front of the other until I have a page, and… you get my drift.

So, I guess this is me making a commitment; a public declaration that I’m going to do this.

I’ll be posting updates on a weekly basis to show how I’m getting on. If anyone wants to join me, then feel free to add a comment and maybe we can encourage each other.

Good luck, my fellow writers! Now, to battle!


Li Carter is a writer, artist and crafter. She lives in South Wales, UK, with her family, and five rescue dogs. She’s on Twitter @rbcreativeli , Facebook: Rainbow Butterfly Creative, and Instagram @rainbowbutterflycreative and is the author of My Only True Friend: The Beginning. She is currently working on a new series titled The QuickSilver Chronicles. She is the original Rainbow Butterfly, and wants to fill an ever darkening world with a little bit of beauty and creativity.

Time Doesn’t Stop

Time doesn’t stop

It just keeps moving on (and on, and on)

by Aron on Unsplash

So, the last few days have been a bit emotional for me. No specific reason, but I’m really missing my sister at the moment. It’s around this time of year that she would have been madly focused on planning our holiday to the Isle Of Wight. She loved the planning and organising; making sure that everything she needed was in the camper van. I dreaded this time, where I had to run around like a crazy person, packing, unpacking and repacking when all I wanted to do was sit in the garden reading, or writing.

Not that I have all the time in the world to sit and read and write, and all I wish is that I could be running around after her once more. Her health was going downhill quite rapidly by this time last year. I could see it. I don’t know for sure if she could, but we planned and we prepared and the ferry tickets and admittance tickets were bought, and in the second week of September, we were off.

Looking back, I feel so thankful that I got to have that one last holiday with her. We had a great time and I will never forget the smile on her face when we were on the ferry, and when we were at Butterfly World, spotting as many different butterflies as we possibly could.

We often take time with our loved ones for granted and I guess what I’m trying to say with this blog, is that I would give anything to see that smile again.

So, when the person you love is annoying you and you wish that they’d just shut up, think twice before you tell them so. The truth is that you’ll have plenty of time to do what you want, but you won’t always have your loved one with you. Take that time to tell them you love them, to laugh with them, sit with them and watch the clouds move across the sky, because you never know when your chance will be gone.

I know this might be coming across sort of preachy and I’m sorry, I really don’t mean it to. I’m just saying that if I had that time over again, I would make sure to spend it with her, rather than worrying about the trivial things, because now, I miss her. I miss her with every fiber of my being, and I would give up everything to just see her face one last time.


Li Carter is a writer, artist and crafter. She lives in South Wales, UK, with her family, and five rescue dogs. She’s on Twitter @rbcreativeli , Facebook: Rainbow Butterfly Creative, and Instagram @rainbowbutterflycreative and is the author of My Only True Friend: The Beginning. She is currently working on a new series titled The QuickSilver Chronicles. She is the original Rainbow Butterfly, and wants to fill an ever darkening world with a little bit of beauty and creativity.

Fires

Fires

Destruction, death, and rebirth?

Photo by Christopher Burns on Unsplash

There has been a lot of coverage in the news lately about the wildfires in Manchester. They have been raging since Sunday, with no sign of any rain to put them out. The ground, already dry as tinder, just keeps baking and almost invites the flames, while emergency services, and now the military fight to drench and quell them.

Another story has been in the news lately, about fire; as the emergency services, and the first responder come under attack by the media for their actions during the Grenfell Tower fire. This attack is completely unfounded and ludicrous, but that’s for another post.

As fire consumes the news this week, it got me thinking about it. Fire is something that I have always been scared of, and the thought of that wildfire raging on, petrifies me. I have been in two fires in my life, (luckily no one was hurt), and these experiences have shaped my feelings on fire.

While a number of people talk about the fire brigade and men in uniform with excitement and glee, whenever I see a fire engine, it sends ice cold shivers of fear through me. As a writer, I have a very vivid imagination, and this only adds fuel to the flames of my fear, as I imagine what they could be responding to.

Fire is a dangerous thing, when it is wild and out of control. It burns with a fierce heat and destroys everything it touches, and yet, even in that destruction, there is always a chance for new life and growth, even if it may not seem like it at the time.

As I look at the news footage of the wildfires, my heart goes out to those people and animals evacuated from their homes. It breaks for all of the wildlife and flora and fauna, which will be killed by the blaze, and I pray that the emergency services, and the army are able to get the fire out as quickly as possible, and I pray for those whose homes are at risk, because that’s all I can do.

When the storms of life come at me; when the wildfires seem to be raging in my life, all I can do is to trust. Trust God with my everything, and pray that He will bring me through this time, just as He has done before.

If you’re in your own storm, I pray that you will find peace, and if you need to, reach out, because there is always someone there to listen if you do.


Li Carter is a writer, artist and crafter. She lives in South Wales, UK, with her family, and five rescue dogs. She’s on Twitter @rbcreativeli , Facebook: Rainbow Butterfly Creative, and Instagram @rainbowbutterflycreative and is the author of My Only True Friend: The Beginning. She is currently working on a new series titled The QuickSilver Chronicles. She is the original Rainbow Butterfly, and wants to fill an ever darkening world with a little bit of beauty and creativity.

Skinny Lattes & Loneliness

Skinny Lattes & Loneliness

A Snippet

by Jason Wong on Unsplash

You sit there up on the desk and look down at everyone else. You think you’re so much better than them. You have your designer clothes, your career, your skinny figure. You watch them all scurrying around like worker ants, while you sip your skinny latte. You paste on your self-satisfied smile, and you pretend. You pretend that this is how you like things. That you’re not so terribly lonely. You spy someone talking on the floor, and shout out for them to get back to work. You shake your head. You won’t abide talking or socialising on your time. You hate it. It fills you with a rage unlike any other; that they should have friends, when you have none.

They just think you’re a bitch. You never let them see the truth. The fact that you’ve never had any friends. You’ve always been alone. Even as a young child. You played alone, ate alone, drank alone. Your parents were high fliers, always jetting off here and there, dumping you with childcare. Yes, you ache with loneliness. You wrap your hands around the paper cup, silently begging the warmth to engulf you, but the latte’s lost its’ steaming hot freshness, and when you take a sip, it just leaves a slightly cold, and bitter taste in your mouth.

You put the cup down on the nearest table , tutting in disgust.

“Marcy” you shout,

“Go and get me another latte” you say when Marcy comes quietly, scurrying up to you.

“Well, go on then” you bark at her, clicking your tongue in annoyance.

Marcy has lots of friends, and is always out having fun. You like to order her about and make her feel nervous and scared. You sneer at her bumbling personality and savour every minute when she makes a fool of herself. In some twisted way, you feel that if she’s making a fool of herself, it makes you not quite so alone.

They often invite you out, but you get nervous. You’re not used to it, and you’re not sure how to act. So you turn back to what you know the best, when you look at them with scorn and tell them that you have far more important things to do. Then you go home to your tiny one bedroomed apartment and sip yet another skinny latte, while you watch romantic movies all on your own.


Li Carter is a writer, artist and crafter. She lives in South Wales, UK, with her family, and five rescue dogs. She’s on Twitter @rbcreativeli , Facebook: Rainbow Butterfly Creative, and Instagram @rainbowbutterflycreative and is the author of My Only True Friend: The Beginning. She is currently working on a new series titled The QuickSilver Chronicles. She is the original Rainbow Butterfly, and wants to fill an ever darkening world with a little bit of beauty and creativity.

Wildflowers

Wildflowers

Slow Down. Take Time.

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

It’s eight months today since my sister’s funeral. On that day, I handed out packets of seeds for people to scatter in her memory. It was the wrong season to do this, really, seeing as we were heading into winter, and there is a decisive lack of new growth. In fact, there is more a distinct dying back of things, which will, in time, leave space for new growth.

Something got me thinking today though. One of Kiri’s (my sister) best friends came over from Derby. He has a narrow boat on the canal up there, and they sowed the seeds up there on the bank of the canal. He told me that they’re all coming up, but have yet to bloom. I wonder how many people scattered those seeds, and I wonder how many of them have come up. I hope it’s a lot. I hope that those flowers grow big and strong and cover small patches of the landscape with some beauty.

My sister always loved seeing the verges and roundabouts bursting with the colour of wild flowers. It brought true joy to her, and her smile completely lit up. I remember that smile as clear as day. I wish I could see it again, but that’s something that can’t happen, so I now have to look for those flowers and smile for her.

It was such a small thing, but to her, it really brightened her day. It made me think about all those people who rush around and quite possibly never even notice those flowers. That makes me sad. I can’t imagine going through life, never stopping to see those flowers.

My sister wasn’t perfect, and she was one of the first people to admit it, but I think that in this small thing, she got it right, so I’m laying down a challenge to anyone who reads this:

Next time you see some flowers, stop for a moment. Look at them, and truly see their beauty. If anyone wants to take some pictures and leave them in the responses, it would mean the world to me. Tag them: Kiris Wildflowers so I know they’re there. 🙂

I hope you have a blessed and happy day.


Li Carter is a writer, artist and crafter. She lives in South Wales, UK, with her family, and five rescue dogs. She’s on Twitter @rbcreativeli , Facebook: Rainbow Butterfly Creative, and Instagram @rainbowbutterflycreative and is the author of My Only True Friend: The Beginning. She is currently working on a new series titled The QuickSilver Chronicles. She is the original Rainbow Butterfly, and wants to fill an ever darkening world with a little bit of beauty and creativity.

He Loves Me

He Loves Me

Monologue Monday

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

I don’t believe he did it again, he knows how much I hate it. He came in drunk, he didn’t mean to, I’m sure of it.

He loves me really.

It’s the drink. It screws with his head, messes him up good and proper.

I just never thought he’d do it again. Not now.

How can I face him now? And her, she’ll hate me, and say that it was my fault anyhow. People say I should get away, but how can I? How can I leave?

I hurt so much.

They only know the half of it though. How could they know the truth? It’s just too horrible!

How could he think I’d fight back. He’s too strong. What’s the point in my trying?

I’m covered in bruises and cuts.

Think I may have broken a rib or two.

Still,

he loves me…

I can’t blame him.

He didn’t know what he was thinking.

He was intoxicated.

The booze and rage just got to him.

I asked for it.

Don’t like it when he holds me down though.

It scares me.

I’m not exactly strong.

I ache so much now…

I always ache after he’s finished,

But it’s worse this time..

He was really mad..

I don’t know what I did..

Must have been bad though..

It’ll take a couple of days to feel better…..

Problem is, then he’ll come and do it again.

It’s like a vicious circle, and I’m trapped in the middle.

But..

he loves me..

It’s my fault, it must be (it always is)….

That and the drink.

It can’t be his fault, he’s not to blame.

People sneer and say there’s no excuse — say I’m blind, they do, but they don’t know him. They don’t know how much he does for me.

I know he does other stuff too, but I love him.

And she really would never forgive me. She loves him too, see.

He’d never let me go.

Don’t know that I want to, mind.

He may do some bad stuff, but underneath it all, he’s still…

he still makes it all better.

That’s why I can’t leave.

He always makes it better in the end.

And anyway, she would never forgive me if I told and left. It would only make it worse. They’d turn against me. Hate me more than they do now.

And what would people say?

Ungrateful cow!

Only cares about herself.

Look what she’s done to her poor parents.

Always said she was trouble, that one.

They don’t know either, and they don’t care.

Nobody cares.

That’s why I stay, the good times are worth putting up with the bad

Who else would want to look after me?

No-one Would!

They’re the only ones who can look after..

Who can put up with me….

…and they love me….

They do…

I’m sure of it.

I couldn’t hurt them that much. They don’t deserve it.

So, I’ll just sit here and wait…..

I’m sure he’ll come back soon…


Li Carter is a writer, artist and crafter. She lives in South Wales, UK, with her family, and five rescue dogs. She’s on Twitter @rbcreativeli , Facebook: Rainbow Butterfly Creative, and Instagram @rainbowbutterflycreative and is the author of My Only True Friend: The Beginning. She is currently working on a new series titled The QuickSilver Chronicles. She is the original Rainbow Butterfly, and wants to fill an ever darkening world with a little bit of beauty and creativity.

Lost Things

Lost Things

Snippet Sunday (Flash Fiction)

by Daan Stevens on Unsplash

When I woke up on the morning after it had happened, I didn’t remember at first. I couldn’t remember. I thought I would have been able to tell, that I would feel different, but everything was the same as always. The nurses came in and out of the room, doing their usual observations, while I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. I don’t know how long it was before I finally woke up properly. I still felt drowsy at the time, but the food trolley had come around and one of the healthcare assistants was shaking me, and asking me what I wanted for lunch. I shrugged. It didn’t seem important. I wasn’t really hungry. I wasn’t really anything. All I felt, was empty. She had gone, and she’d never be back, and I’d barely even known her.


Li Carter is a writer, artist and crafter. She lives in South Wales, UK, with her family, and five rescue dogs. She’s on Twitter @rbcreativeli , Facebook: Rainbow Butterfly Creative, and Instagram @rainbowbutterflycreative and is the author of My Only True Friend: The Beginning. She is currently working on a new series titled The QuickSilver Chronicles. She is the original Rainbow Butterfly, and wants to fill an ever darkening world with a little bit of beauty and creativity.

The Fortune Teller

The Fortune Teller

Love Me Till I’m Me Again

Photo by Jamie Street on Unsplash

It was a mild night, and Madame Spangles was glad that she still lived in a tent, even if it was battered and motheaten. Most of the other crew had discarded their own tents in favour of wooden caravans years ago, but she was an old fashioned sort, and liked to feel the fresh air on her face. Au natural, she liked to call it. She was a simple character, and always had been. She liked to get up early each morning, and take a walk barefoot on the soft, damp grass. There was nothing like the feeling of stepping over, from the fabric of the tent, to the dewy strands. She’d done it every morning, since she was a babe. She shuffled her deck of cards, and laid them down on the small round table in her living area. Slipping off her shoes, she went behind the curtain, and laid down on her bed. It was only a straw mattress, which was nearly as old as she was, but it was hers, and she liked it. That night, as she lay there and listened to the sounds outside, just before sleep washed over her, she was struck by a thought that hadn’t occurred to her in years.

Eddie looked through the one way glass into the room where Aila, or Madame Spangles, as she had now become known, was seated. He didn’t know what to think. He had never met Madame Spangles before a fortnight ago, and strange as it sounded to people, he was scared. It did sound stupid. He knew it did. How could he be scared of his own wife? The doctors had looked at him like he was dirt when they’d told him the diagnosis, as if he should have known. How could he? He hadn’t married Aila until they were both in their late thirties, and she’d always been guarded about her past. Never brought it up, and if he did, she’d change the subject. ‘Now I know why’ he thought to himself.

It wouldn’t have come to her, if it hadn’t been for the overwhelming fragrance wafting from Billy the bear-tamer’s van. The hookah. She hadn’t touched so much as a sniff in years, but it did smell so tempting. Yes, maybe just one breath. She inhaled deeply, feeling the calm flood her senses. She looked around her, and suddenly, the visions in front of her became so bright, they were almost luminous. Staring through the tiny skylight in the roof of the tent, the stars began to dance around the sky, some in quick, shooting bolts, which added to her excitement, some slowly and delicately, calming her withered nerves. She felt sleep coming, and while part of her wanted to fight it, and continue to ride the high, the larger part of her submitted, allowing her body to give in to sleep, as she climbed on the nearest cloud and floated away.

He’d realised when something was wrong, but it had been a huge shock to find out that this was not the first time that his wife had become Madame Spangles. No one seemed to know why, and she was unable to tell them. She just continued with her charade. She looked up just then, and he could see her face. The same lost look crossed it as when she had been dragged from the house by the police. He still hated himself for allowing such a scene. All the neighbours had seen, and he just knew that she would be mortified to know. She had always appeared to be the model housewife. Then, one day, he came home to find her not in her usual attire of jeans and fitted shirt, but in a long and brightly coloured flowing skirt, and blouse. She was also wearing jewellery and rambling about a tent, and grass, and dirt tracks. It had been so quick, she had been fine when he left that morning.

The next thing she knew, the birds morning song had been and gone, and the sun was high overhead. She’d missed her early morning walk in the peace and quiet, for now she could hear the sounds of the crew going about their daily business, of feeding the animals, and setting up for the first show. Today was a Saturday, she thought, which meant a matinee performance. Slowly easing herself to her feet, wincing as the rheumatism in her joints shot through her, she padded lightly to a table, where an old, battered copper teapot sat. Stoking a small fire, that had been smouldering just outside the tent, she set the filled teapot above the flames, and waited for it to boil. When the water began to beat the sides of the pot in fierce bubbles, she lifted it from the heat and carried it indoors, where she poured herself a cup of herbal tea. She carried it over to her card table and sat down. Taking a sip, she then set the teacup to one side, and picked up her cards. Shuffling them, she laid them out in the simplest of her spreads, and slowly, methodically turned them over. “Ah yes, a dreamfilled night. Oh yes, we definitely had that didn’t we?” she chuckled to herself. “But what’s this? Seven of hearts. Oh no. This is not a good sign. I’m sensing…” she closed her eyes as if trying to remember something.

The doctors said this was normal, and that it only takes a small thing that in seconds can trigger this. Why didn’t she tell me? He thought to himself. He felt guilty and betrayed, angry and hurt. He should have known. The doctors obviously believed it too. Watching her in there, talking away to herself. He just wished that he could run in there and hold her, but it was like she didn’t even recognise him. When he’d tried to talk to her, she’d started screaming, and hitting him. The doctors had had to pull her off him and restrain her. Being a man, he wasn’t prone to crying, but on this occasion, he had cried like a baby.

“Ouch!” she exclaimed. “Needles. Sewing needles.. no.. a sewing kit. Am I to meet a seamstress today? A dressmaker maybe. Ouch. Stop it” she swatted at her arm, but when she looked there was nothing there. She shook herself, and turned over the final card. “Queen of clubs. This is a bad omen, yes?” she queried, more to herself than anything else. “I fear this is not good news, and that maybe I will soon no longer be reading, but having more dreamfilled sleeps” she finished speaking, picked up her teacup, and stared off into the distance, as if entering her own world.

Suddenly, Aila looked up, and saw the room around her. In a rare moment of clarity, she felt her heart sink as she realised what had happened. Standing up, she walked over to the toughened glass window. Gazing blindly through it, she whispered, “I’m sorry, Eddie”. With that, the door buzzed open, and Eddie ran through it. She burst into tears as he grabbed her in his arms. “I’m so sorry Eddie. I hoped you’d never have to see me like this. I thought I was over it” she said into his strong chest, where she was huddled.

Eddie just hugged her tighter, tears now readily falling down his cheeks. He couldn’t understand what was happening. Why his wife had been this other person one minute, and now she was back, huddling into him, apologizing. It made no sense to him. “What happened, Aila?” he asked her gently. The doctors hadn’t told him much, only that she’d relapsed, and he felt very much in the dark about everything. He’d tried to ask questions, but all they ever told him was that he had to wait. ‘Wait’ he thought. How useless could he get, just sitting there, watching; waiting. “What’s going on Aila? No one will tell me anything” he asked her.

She looked up at him, fear flashing through her eyes. “I’m ill. I thought it was under control. I haven’t had an episode for years. I’m sorry Eddie. The pull back there is just so strong. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on. I’m sorry. Please wait for me. Just love me. Please just love me till I’m me again” she stopped talking, gasped and then a blank look came over her face

In seconds, her face became alive again and she said “Hello young man, you want your fortune told?”


Li Carter is a writer, artist and crafter. She lives in South Wales, UK, with her family, and five rescue dogs. She’s on Twitter @rbcreativeli , Facebook: Rainbow Butterfly Creative, and Instagram @rainbowbutterflycreative and is the author of My Only True Friend: The Beginning. She is currently working on a new series titled The QuickSilver Chronicles. She is the original Rainbow Butterfly, and wants to fill an ever darkening world with a little bit of beauty and creativity.

Possibilities

Possibilities

A Poem

“A newborn baby wrapped in a hospital blanket crying in Middletown” by Tim Bish on Unsplash

As I think back on the events of this last week, this poem I wrote many years ago comes to mind. For so many children, this poem is no longer true and it breaks my heart. The powers that be… powers of evil have decided the future of so many innocent children, and have taken away all of their possibilities.

As this week draws to a close, I pray that these children will be kept safe and that their possibilities will soon be returned to them again.

A child is born,
A healthy, baby boy.
There he lies,
Squirming in his crib.

Full of promise,
And potential.

He looks through seemingly blind eyes,
As people come and go.

Coo-ing at him,
He hears them,
And although he may not understand fully,
He knows what’s going on.

He’s got strong arms, they say,
He’s got thoughtful eyes,
He’s got good, clean skin.
A footballer, a poet, a model?

Not one of them knows,
He doesn’t even know for sure.
But he does know that anything is possible.

He has the power,
He has the right,
To decide his future,
And make it happen.


Li Carter is a writer, artist and crafter. She lives in South Wales, UK, with her family, and five rescue dogs. She’s on Twitter @rbcreativeli , Facebook: Rainbow Butterfly Creative, and Instagram @rainbowbutterflycreative and is the author of My Only True Friend: The Beginning. She is currently working on a new series titled The QuickSilver Chronicles. She is the original Rainbow Butterfly, and wants to fill an ever darkening world with a little bit of beauty and creativity.

Be More Olaf

Be More Olaf

Why this little snowman has optimism nailed.

Photo by Walid Amghar on Unsplash

We’ve heard it said so often, “Are you a glass half full or a glass half empty person?” Personally, I like the joke that says “Optimists say the glass is half full, pessimists say the glass is half empty, and philosophers say that the glass is too big”.

All jokes aside though, we live in a world where the glass half empty mentality is becoming far too commonplace. We are so quick to look on the negative side of things, and we don’t always see the beauty and blessing in even the harder things of life.

In the song “In Summer” from the Frozen soundtrack (which is currently stuck in my head), Olaf sings of all the wonderful things he imagines he will enjoy when (not if) he gets to experience summer. He never even questions the thought that when summer comes, he will no longer be there because he will have melted.

Near the end of the song, the rhyming set up of the lyrics clearly shows that if Olaf had followed with convention, he would undoubtedly melt, turning into a puddle, which would complete the rhyme. This little snowman turns away and in an act of outward defiance, sings of the joy he will have when he gets to experience bees and dandelions and flowers, and the beach and sunshine. He lists all of these wonderful things, believing with all of his unfrozen heart that he will get to see and experience them.

This is something that we as humans do far too rarely. In the constant rat race of life, how often do we actually step off the track and actually just experience something for the pure, simplistic enjoyment of it, without trying to find problems or complaining about it? I know I don’t do this anywhere near enough.

At one of the main crises of the movie, Olaf is trying to keep Anna warm, and in doing this, he risks melting, and he says that heart rending line “Some people are worth melting for” Not only does Olaf’s character show the kind of reckless optimism that I wish we all had, but he shows an absolutely self sacrificial nature when he is willing to give up his very being, and essentially die, if it will save his friend Anna.

I think that Olaf’s optimism can teach us a lot about life. I know I’m the first one to complain when it’s raining, but lately I’ve been thinking about the countries that have long periods of drought; the places where there is a very real and frightening risk of wildfires, and I am so thankful that we have enough rain to make this an unlikely occurrence in this country.

In contrast, there are those people (yup, I don’t understand them either) that will complain when it’s sunny and say that it’s too hot. The truth is that no one will ever be one hundred percent happy with their lot in life, but this week, I am going to try and be more like Olaf, and live with the kind of optimism that makes living my life a better and more positive thing.

So I ask, who’s going to join me, and be a little more like the little snowman who finally got to experience summer at the end of the movie?


Li Carter is a writer, artist and crafter. She lives in South Wales, UK, with her family, and five rescue dogs. She’s on Twitter @rbcreativeli , Facebook: Rainbow Butterfly Creative, and Instagram @rainbowbutterflycreative and is the author of My Only True Friend: The Beginning. She is currently working on a new series titled The QuickSilver Chronicles. She is the original Rainbow Butterfly, and wants to fill an ever darkening world with a little bit of beauty and creativity.