The Sands of Time

No it’s not, it can’t be. If I just get rid of it no one will know. I can just pretend it never happened, can’t I?

Image Copyright Michael Himbeault
Image Copyright Michael Himbeault

Hello lovelies,
Well it’s happened. The day I have been dreading since the beginning of adulthood, the day almost every woman dreads. Although I wasn’t consciously aware that I was dreading it until it happened. The day when you find your first grey hair.

There I was, looking in the bathroom mirror, blow drying my hair after a shower. Playfully aiming the hairdryer at my 1-year-old every now and then and enjoying listening to his giggles. Then I spotted it, there on the right hand side, poking out of the side of my head, almost taunting me. A dreaded, thick, grey hair. Before even thinking I grabbed it and pulled the little bugger out, that’ll teach them, I thought to myself and if no one else sees it, then it doesn’t exist right? Then I remembered what Samantha from Sex and the City once said, “if you pull it out, two more will come to it’s funeral” or something along those lines. I tried to ignore it, after all it was just one small hair. How wrong I was, after a closer inspection I found at least 3 more of the evil little things. However, if I actually do my hair properly, they are cleverly hidden under the rest of my non-grey hair. Although I think a trip to the hairdresser is in order before my birthday!

Now please don’t form the misconception that I am some sort of vain person who puts her looks and appearance above all. This is not me at all, I’m the girl whose ideal weekend as a child was spent in shorts, a t-shirt and cap, riding my bike. I’m the girl who did a happy dance when my high school announced that we would be able to wear slacks during winter instead of a skirt and tights, should we wish to do so. I wore those slacks as long as I could within the year, until the threat of detention for being out of uniform loomed dangerously close. I’m the girl who had no idea how to put on makeup and “YouTubed” tutorials for the 3-4 times a year when I actually wear makeup.

I enjoy getting “dolled up” every now and again, but it’s not something I do every day. I go to work everyday without my “face on” and I don’t think there’s a thing wrong with that, plus if I accidentally sleep in I am able to get three children and myself ready in less than thirty minutes!

Even though I have established that I am not appearance obsessed, there’s something that screams, “old” to me when I find grey hairs. I think that the first grey hair stirs different emotions in women than it does for men. Perhaps I am only speaking for myself here, but over the last few years I have playfully made fun of my husband for the increasing amount of grey hairs that he has, he just shrugs it off, it doesn’t seem to bother him. For me however, I find one grey hair and instantly I think about getting rid of it and that I need to start making trips to the hairdresser more often to cover up this little problem. The first time I could sight of that dastardly grey hair, it reinforced that I was definitely getting any younger, in fact, I was getting older and one day I would be “old”.
Not so long ago I had the bragging rights of being the youngest person on staff, now I am the one who is becoming increasingly considered as the experienced one.

Now that I think about what I have accomplished in my life and my career and how far I have come, I guess I don’t mind getting older that much. With age comes understanding and experience and I don’t think I would trade my grey hairs to be the person I was 10 years ago. So I’m going to try and embrace this getting older thing and keep working towards achieving the things I want to achieve, as with each day I get older and with each new grey hair, I am getting closer to achieving these goals.

I’m still visiting the hairdresser ASAP though!

Enjoy your week,

© Katherine A. Kovacs and The Writer Within, (2013-2015). Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Katherine A. Kovacs and The Writer Within with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Past, Present and Future

Hello Lovelies,

Since my last post I have been thinking about the milestones coming up in my own life and in my family. In less than a month it will be my father’s sixtieth birthday and my own thirtieth (eeek!), while at the end of the year we will be celebrating my grandmother’s eightieth birthday. With all these ‘big birthdays’ coming up this year I have been thinking about my childhood and the things that have led me to this point in my life. Whilst I am happy with what I have achieved in my life so far, there is so much more I want to do, not only in regards to my writing and the journey I began almost six months ago, but in other aspects of my life. There is so much I want to teach my children and so much I want to show them and what better time is there than the present?

In keeping with the spirit of embracing the present, yesterday I took my children apple picking, something that I did as a child. I even went as far as to take them to (almost) the same orchard- well it was on the same road and with 4.5 kilograms of Granny Smith apples picked, I had three very happy children munching away in the back seat of the car. On our way home I remembered a park that my parents would always take my brother and I to and decided to stop and see if it was still there. The small park that I enjoyed many hours of play with my cousins and little brother remained almost unchanged, as if stuck in a time loop. So here were my own three children, in the present, enjoying playing at the same park that I enjoyed in the past. Perhaps some day my children’s children will enjoy some of the same things they once enjoyed.


My daughter enjoying herself at the park- shortly after this picture she cleverly found the only puddle of stagnant water by sliding into the pile of autumn leaves at the end of the slide head first, with outstretched arms. Half a packet of baby wipes later and wearing her younger brother’s jacket, we made our way home. At least they had fun. Image copyright Katherine A. Kovacs/The Writer Within


My cousins, little brother and myself enjoying the same park in the early nineties. Image copyright Katherine A Kovacs/The Writer Within

Even as I write this post, my children are watching a commercial for the sour Warhead lollies, after telling them I used to eat them when I was a little girl and attempting to explain the concept of sour to a six-year old and three-year old, I’ve decided that;s another thing from my childhood they might need to experience. They’ll probably spit out the lolly, but it’s an experience I’d like to share with them.

Our past is what makes us the people we are in the present and the choices we make in the present lead us to the path towards our future self.

Think about your goals and what you want to achieve and start to do things that will lead you down that path.

I don’t make New Year’s resolutions, they don’t really work for me. Besides, the goals I have are more long term and not something that can be done within such a time frame. My goals are more lifelong goals or aspirations, rather than a “New Year’s resolution” or “Five Year Plan”, my goals encompass my writing and embracing my creative self, as well as my family and my role as a mother. Let’s face it, I’m not getting any younger (I believe I mentioned my upcoming farewell to my twenties) and there’s no better time than the present to embrace the person we want to be in the future.

So what aspects of your past have influenced the person you are in the present? And what are you doing in the present to embrace the person you want to be in the future?


© Katherine A. Kovacs and The Writer Within, (2013-2015). Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Katherine A. Kovacs and The Writer Within with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Audience Appreciation


Image Copyright Katherine A. Kovacs/The Writer Within

Hello Lovelies,

First of all, if you live in my part of the world I’d like to wish all the mothers, mothers-to-be and mother figures a wonderful and happy Mother’s Day. I’d like to say put your feet up and let your loved ones spoil you, but as a mother to three young children myself, I know that isn’t necessarily going to happen, just enjoy the day whatever you might be doing.

The topic for this week’s post came about when I was teaching a group of year 5 students about the importance of considering your intended audience when writing. During this lesson we were focusing on persuasive writing and the purpose of persuading your audience to share the same viewpoint as yourself, the writer. I told them to consider if their writing is intended for a group of their peers, for adults or for a wider audience and to consider the implications that may have to their writing style and the formation of their arguments. While the students were busily planning their writing, I thought back on what I had just said to them and realised that at this point in my writing journey I am not practicing what I preach.

You see, at this stage in my journey I still have the freedom of writing for my own pleasure. In those brief moments I get (as a working mother of three) to sit down and to do some writing, I am still writing for me. My characters tell me the story and I am the intended audience, although I am the one forming the words, sentences, paragraphs, pages and chapters, the story being told is still their own and I am their captivated audience.

I often share pieces of my writing on this blog and it seems that I am beginning to build an audience for my writing. Although I am extremely touched and humbled that others enjoy by writing, I still possess the freedom of writing for myself, without the restrictions of an intended audience. I know that when writing it is important to consider your audience and contemplate on what would intrigue and captivate your intended audience, but at this stage I am the intended audience and if other people want to join my audience of one, then that’s great too.

What I am writing here might sound selfish and as if I am saying that it’s all about me and I don’t care what others think. Of course I care; I love the warm fuzzy feeling I get when I receive an email notification from or The Writer Within, telling me that I have another follower or that someone liked by latest post. It is amazing that something that started for me, as a way of documenting my journey towards embracing the writer within, has appealed to an audience greater than one. The thought that people around the world are reading and enjoying something written by a woman who is just a wife, mother of three and a teacher from the suburbs is just simply, beyond amazing!

So even though I write for an audience of one, I thank and appreciate the wider audience and hope that you continue to enjoy my work and share it with your friends.

So as I go and get ready to share Mother’s Day with my own mother and grandmother, I sincerely thank you all for following on my journey as I embrace the writer within.


Just Your Mum

Cooking, cleaning, washing, feeding.

Hours of worry, sleepless nights.

Counselling, nursing, hugging, kissing.

Settling all those sibling fights.


Everything you need, I’ll find to you.

I love you more and more each day.

Your smile tells me you love me too.

I love you more than words can say.


I’m not a super hero like Wonder Woman,

Although that might be fun.

I’m someone who does it all because I’m not just any woman,

I’m just your mum.

© Katherine A. Kovacs and The Writer Within, (2013-2015). Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Katherine A. Kovacs and The Writer Within with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Breaking Down the Barriers

Hello Lovelies,

I’ve had a bit of a breakthrough this week with my writing. Not with my assignment that was due on Friday, the lecturer gave us all a week extension, so of course I’m still in procrastination mode with that one! My breakthrough if with my (not so) short story that I had hit a wall with.

Sometimes when you come up against a wall in your writing and some type of barrier is preventing you from exploring your characters and story further, you need to get yourself a big ol’ metaphorical sledgehammer and break down that barrier in your mind. If you keep on hitting away at the barrier, usually you will eventually have a breakthrough where the words begin to flow again and you start to unravel the complexity of your characters. This is what happened to me this week, I’m in the process of discovering just how complex these two characters really are, particularly my female lead. At this point the characters are still known as ‘he’ and ‘she’ and perhaps it will stay that way. The story is told by both main characters, with each character telling the story in sections from their own perspective. We have a man who never felt love as a child and has searched for someone for him to love and to love him in return. He has found that in a woman who experienced nothing but abuse and false love as a child and had shut herself off from the world as a means of self-preservation. It wasn’t until they met each other that the world came alive again for her and he experienced what it felt like to love and be loved in return.

Yes, it’s another ‘love story’ but there can never be too much love in the world! The timeline of their story is over several years and looks at the impact of both of their pasts and the darkness of it that can not always be kept at bay.

I have a little bit to share with you today. remember this work is raw and unedited and is only a first draft.

Enjoy and May the Fourth Be With You,



When I first saw him, I hated him with every inch of my being. He was the one threatening my isolation, which I so strongly desired. Yet for some reason I felt drawn to him, he didn’t ask too many questions, which was something I liked. He would simply say, “Hello” and give me a sweet, crooked smile. He would speak only when he had to and each shift was spent working side by side mostly in silence. It wasn’t until one evening that he didn’t come in for his shift that I realised how much being near him comforted me. He was sick apparently and without him there working silently next to me I became anxious and edgy and found it difficult to concentrate on doing my job. I dropped things, tripped over boxes and was so completely uncoordinated that the shop owner’s daughter wondered if I was coming down with whatever he had. I realised that I had come to rely on his present, I was beginning to depend on him and I hated myself for that. I had spent so long and worked so hard at trying to isolate myself from the outside world, that the thought of relying on another person angered me. Yet the thought of living without seeing him was becoming unbearable. It was stupid, I barely even knew him, sure we spent every night together for the past three months, but we weren’t exactly sharing every little detail of our lives. I knew his name and I knew he was well-mannered, I also somehow knew he understood my silence.

When he didn’t show up to work the next day, I stupidly found myself looking up his address in the staff contact files and before I knew it I was walking towards his flat and knocking on his door. When the door opened and I found myself looking into his eyes, I didn’t know what to say, I just stood there staring at him for what seemed like an awkwardly long time before he invited me in. I entered his flat without saying a word, he spoke first, “Are you checking up on me?” I remember him saying with the hint of a laugh in his voice, I didn’t want to tell him that I needed him and felt comforted being near him so instead I told him that I was just checking to make sure he was ok and that the shop owner had sent me over to see if he would be working that night. He invited me to sit down and made us some tea and in that moment something changed, we talked for hours, I did most of the talking. Told him almost everything about myself, where I was from, my time in foster care and my time on the streets, but I didn’t tell him about the deepest of the darkness in my past. I felt so comfortable talking to him, it felt good to let someone in. I remember the feeling of contentment that washed over me as I told him about myself and he didn’t go running in the opposite direction. He said we were the same person, that he too had been bounced around from foster home to foster home before he turned 18 and was forced to make his own way in the world. I also remember that he was glad that I had stopped by. I also remember telling him that I missed him. The words had come out before I could stop them, before I could even consider them. He had smiled his crooked smile and said that he had missed me too.

How I wish I could get back that feeling, the feeling of happiness, contentment and comfort I got from being with him, from knowing that he understood me. Now everything is changing and I hate him for that. I have to make things go back to the way that they were, I have to do something. I can change it, he doesn’t know yet. I can fix this and pretend it never happened and things can go back to the way they were.

© Katherine A. Kovacs and The Writer Within, (2013-2015). Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Katherine A. Kovacs and The Writer Within with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.