I write rhyming picture books. I write other genres too but I love writing rhyming picture books.

So that’s what I do every day. I write. But I have a secret weapon. Oh yes, I have an in-house Grammar King. Nothing gets past this guy. No, he is relentless with his circles of woe and underlining’s of misery.

Every writer has one though. They may not think they do, but they do.

When they have finished another ‘masterpiece’, they sit back in their chair and re-live the moment when they finally realise that all the i’s have been dotted and all the t’s are crossed. They smile as they remember typing the final two words that put an end to the inevitable sleepless nights, the day dreaming at red traffic lights about plot and structure and so on.

THE END they type. Not quite believing it themselves.

Two words that sum up the latest chapter of their life that had been consumed by their latest novel. It’s a defining moment in any writers day when they can honestly say that they are finished with their latest draft.

They are complete.

They can breathe calmly now and carry on the way they where all those days/months/years ago. They succumbed to the writers call and left all resemblance of normal life behind them. They ventured where they had never ventured before, some crept back into safe ground of normality, others crawled their way through the blood, sweat and tears, coming out at the other end a bit bewildered, but fantastically happy!

So, what now? Do you sit at your desk musing over the clean, crisp A4 pages staring up at you in their neat pile.

Or… if you’re like me you pounce on your unsuspecting partner THE MOMENT they get through the door with the words only writers can understand… YOU MUST READ THIS! NOW.

The In-house grammar king has come home. And we are very, very grateful for his time.

So, today I was that girl. I had dotted the i’s and crossed the t’s. I had gone where I hadn’t been in a while. I had typed the two sacred words and now I needed a review.

My Grammar King had returned from a day at his fort. He was tired and understandably grumpy. But – he read it. he read it and I did that thing that you should never do. I hovered. He sighed at my hovering, so I left.

Silence. Normally THE RED PEN comes out. It’s my pen, so I have no quarrel with it, it helps make the changes more visible to me on the page but today it was not needed. No, today I tasted victory. There were no changes.

My iambic septameter had survived. We shook hands, he went back to his place in the hard drive and I wept tears of joy. My review was over. Nobody had died. All was good in my world again.

There was a final parting word from the King before he retired to bed after my relentless chatter from being alone with my thoughts all day – he said “I know why you wrote that this way – have a look at this link and see what you think.”


At last! I now have a name for my rhyming words! Here is an iambic trimeter (I know!) that I made earlier (2010 to be precise). Click on the link below – The Perfect Patch:


So, from all of that – which iambic traits do your stories have?




  1. Author

    When I wrote it back in 2010, I contacted all the councils in the UK as I wanted it readily available for all children to read if they ever went through patching treatment. The College of Optomotrists where the only one who took it on, the rest, sadly do not have funding for such initiatives so they declined. It is on my bucket list though and I will get it out there! What’s for you won’t pass you!

  2. The perfect patch is a perfect poem. You should print it up, laminate the copies and sell them to all eye clinics and opticians everywhere. It would help relax children before being examined and make them accept patches more readily.
    xxx Sending Mega Hugs xxx