In answer to your question

The following question was posted on this blog with regard to The Boy who Rescues Pigeons:-

Hi

Any idea when we can expect the culmination and the release of this book? Just a few extracts have me keen to read more!


Well Reader that is something I hope to be able to give an answer to very soon. The Boy who Rescues Pigeons is currently out with publishers. I'm afraid I can't tell you any more than that right now. Keep your fingers crossed for me please!

Happy Reading!

Back by Popular Demand : Too Much far Too Soon

I am reposting this post below which I wrote a few years ago. This is done by popular demand. Mothers, vote with your feet and your purse strings...

I read something in the Huffington Post the other day which reflected exactly how I felt.
...

Apparently a father of a young daughter, who just also happened to be a Reverend, wrote an open letter to a well-known underwear brand, asking that they reconsider their plans to produce and sell lacy, slogan emblazoned underwear to young(ish) children.
Now I use the word children here both carefully and well considered.

By the laws of this country and most other progressive ones, minors are considered to be 'children' until at least the age of sixteen if not much older. This means that certain things, acts and products are prohibited to them. And this is done with good reason.

Now I know we all love our children and want them to be happy, stylish and feel that they fit in with their peers...but let's get real here...

Do you really think that emblazoning a pair of lacy, racy thong pants with the slogan "feeling lucky?" is the way to do it? Or allowing our teens to be wearing such things?

No! The sentiments exposed there are both too jocular by nature with a semi-sophisticated self-deprication and at once too mocking to emulate the true way that teens feel about the very idea of sexual attraction.

Think back to your own early teens if you will. Were you really so sure of your own attractiveness that you could wear these pants with no self-effacement, no modesty? If you are truthful, I think you will agree with me that the answer is no.

These slogans are made up by [and any teens reading this, I want you to take note] fat, balding old men who sit behind desks dreaming lasciviously of young girls.

Be in no doubt about that.

And girls, these pants are not grown up, they are not sexy...they were designed by dirty old men who dream of you wearing them. Please, please do not buy them!

Mothers and fathers out there - please help your children to see what is happening. We still live in a world where men like Garry Glitter and Jimmy Saville are reviled - do not let that ever change.

This type of underwear is designed to pander to that very element of society...to take innocence and corrupt it as early as possible!
For all our sakes, get this mini-porn lingerie back where it belongs, on the cutting room floor.

If you touch me like this and kiss me like that...

I am editing Ascension.

Here's the bit I am currently on... I remember these feelings so well. I hope you all get to experience them at least once in your lifetime.

“Sorry, that was uncalled for,” she apologizes. “It’s just that... you have to experience it to understand.” She wraps both hands around the hot mug, even though there’s no chill in the kitchen. “Being in love is such a strange and unique experience. You feel like you are on stage every time he is near, as if a hundred pairs of eyes regard your every move, when in fact it is only him. Your mouth feels suddenly dry, yet you are forced to swallow several times before you can even speak. And the slightest brush of his skin against yours, causes your heart to lurch so much, it almost makes you dizzy!”

Happy Reading! x

Here I lay me down...

How often in your life do you get trends? You know the sort of thing... you haven't been invited to a wedding in years then suddenly three invitations come at once? Or every tombola at the school fayre ends in a number other than five or zero normally but one time, just once, you go and virtually clear every prize from the table?

Well this is what's happening to me right now. Not the prize thing, but a series of random yet interlinked events. One of these things is the sheer volume of friend requests and messages I have had on Facebook from people who were, quite probably, instrumental in shaping me into the person I have become today. These are people whom in some cases I haven't seen or heard from in over thirty years [dear God that makes me sound ancient] and some were in my life when I was a mere five years old and not since.

It's a strange scenario indeed. These are the people who played a massive role in my life back then and yet have been out of it for far longer than they were in it. I could paraphrase Shakespeare here but I'm not going to. This isn't just about mortality, theirs or mine, but about grounding. About not forgetting where your roots lie and why.

Am I the same girl that I was back then? Undoubtedly life has changed me physically. But spiritually? Emotionally? Morally? I am older but am I wiser?

Ask any of my current friends and they will tell you I am as foolish and as controlled by my heart as I ever was. And yet, there must have been changes too. Perhaps I am more cynical, less trusting than before.

This year I will turn 50. In an era that seeks to celebrate this milestone, I feel more inclined to take the stance of an indigenous American Indian. There is a feeling in my soul that my time is over, that I should perhaps take myself off to the hills, there to lie down in a thicket and await death, for I am clearly too old to be of use to anyone.

I accept that this is an extreme feeling and that perhaps many of you will not be able to identify with it. And in all honestly neither could I until now. But the more 50 looms, the more I fret. That said, I'm sure that once I reach that age, I'll get over this fugue, this feeling that I'm on the downward slope...

But do me a favour? If you have a friend who is coming up to their 50th, please, please, please don't keep telling them how many years you have until you get to that decrepit age. It really doesn't help. :)

Happy Reading. x



     

Roll up! ROLL UP!

Yesterday I had a very strange day which came to a close with me going to the Charles Chipperfield Circus. It's a thing I have never experienced before and I was rather excited. So did the experience match up to my expectations?

There were the obligatory [I believe] juggling acts and trapeze artists... and much more showmanship than I had expected somehow. Glittering costumes and snazzy, choreographed little snippets of dance, set the whole thing off nicely, and yet the crowd around me seemed a little less than rapturous with their applause.

Suddenly I realised something. Probably not one of us in the audience, myself included, could have performed any of those acts with even the tiniest shred of competence and yet we were not astounded, thrilled and amazed as we should have been. Why? Because TV has jaded us. Clever camera angles, close-ups and edited footage ensure that on TV shows, we see only the best bits, that the magician's slight-of-hand thoroughly fools us, or that when the man juggling nine balls drops one, it's carefully cut out of the final show.

But last night we saw it all, and I have to say that it was the occasional mistake that truly made it for me. It was this which made me realise how difficult these acts were to actually perform, how much practise and showmanship went into everything and how strong and professional the performers were.

And then came the finale: a man running outside of a giant hamster-type wheel which was catapulted to the ceiling of the big top and then to the ground again, whilst he ran the gauntlet, trying to keep pace and balance as the wheel was constantly turned out from under his feet.

Several times he almost fell, stumbled then regained his footing only to stumble once more, making me raise both hands to my mouth in fear for his safety. So when he opted next to do it blindfolded I was actually saying aloud, "Don't do it! Don't do it!" in a kind of mantra.

But he did, and he stumbled and lost his balance and fell... just managing to wrap an arm around a piece of equipment on his way down and swing himself safely back inside the ball in the nick of time. My heart was racing and adrenaline was pumping. It was terrifying!

So overall what do I think? Well TV you can keep your phoney edited stuff for yourself... I like the real thing so much better.

Happy Reading! x

Do I or don't I?

Today I was faced with a moral dilemma. I can't tell you the specifics but suffice it to say that I was effectively damned if I did and equally damned if I didn't.

You may wonder why I am even telling you this if I can't give you the details but it wasn't ever really about that, it was about doing what I had to do. This weird conundrum came at a very strange point in my day - I had been editing my newest book, Invisible, and was pondering why the character had chosen to act as she had, because in fact there was no good way out of her situation, when indeed I found myself in a similar position.

In the book, she did what seemed right to her and in real life I did what seemed right to me. Were either of those things actually the right thing to do? I don't know. But I believe they were the most moral choices they could be.

So back to why I am telling you this. The simple truth is that like everyone else on this rolling planet, I haven't got a clue what it is I am supposed to be doing here, so I am just doing the best I can.

Is that good enough?
I hope so.

Happy Reading!

Still editing!

I am still editing Invisible.

Here is the part I am currently on:-

In the hallway, the front door opened and then after a moment, closed again. Fran and Gary sat without speaking as if the moment was so sacred it required the silence of the sacristy. It took another few minutes for Alison to reappear and when she did, her eyes were red and puffy. “He’s gone,” she said, her voice breaking on the very first syllable.

 

How strange that it is me, comforting her, Fran thought as she rose from the chair with her arms wide, wrapping them tight around Jim’s twin. “At least his suffering is over,” she told herself and Ally. Whereas mine has only just begun. As painful and terrible as before, his death hasn’t brought an end to my anguish, just pushed it in a different direction, she realised.

Poor Fran... Happy Reading!

Life versus Fiction

At the moment I am editing the book about the woman whose life falls apart when she hears some revelations. It was a hard book to write and it's equally hard to edit. The emotions which pour forth from the pages are raw and gripping. And each turn of the page takes me back to my past. For after all, who of us hasn't stood chalk faced and shaking when we are told about something so fundamentally wrong in our relationship that it rocks us to the core?

The other day I became embroiled in such a situation. For the sake of those similarly enmeshed, I shall keep the identities private, as indeed the minute details of the situation... but to see such a thing first-hand and in real life was heart-breaking. Trying to mediate as I was and failing dismally, it was all I could do in the end to offer support and a shoulder to cry on.

But it made me think. My own life [until this very moment in time] has been filled with emotional drama, heights of delirium and depths of despair that I guess in one shape or form, I must have invited in. Had my friend also invited it into her life? As an outsider in the private inner realms of her world, I could only surmise that it was a possibility that she had. We lead the lives we do because of the choices we make within them. That, after all, was how I came to write Split Decision, about the consequences of a choice.

My friend has recovered but will she ever be exactly the same person that she was before she found out the horrible truth? Probably not. Because I think that day, a little piece of her died. And I know exactly how that feels.

And me? Well as ever I will channel that raw emotion into my books as I always do. You see when people ask me if I write fiction, I nod. But I know it isn't really fiction - it is a written depiction of life, a tome which has recorded the vagaries of life, love and of humans themselves.

Am I a writer? Yes. Am I an imaginer of things? Perhaps. But mostly what I am is a chronicler. Like it or not, that's what I really am.

Happy Reading.

I write like...

During Monday's talk, I mentioned a programme which uses some sort of algorithm to decide which famous writer or writers you write like.

If you scroll down this blog and click on the tag which states 'analysis' you can read the excerpts I used and what the outcomes were, but should you wish to take the text yourself, then here is the link.

 http://iwl.me/

Thank you!

Yesterday I did a talk for Olton Creative Writers at Olton Library. What a wonderfully well-read and creative group of people!

Often those who have an interest in the arts can be a little imperious [stating the phrase with implied inverted commas and capital letters, or fingers held aloft in the air], so it was refreshing to meet such talented and down-to-earth people.

I hope they thoroughly enjoy my books.

Ramada tomorrow!

Looking forward to my talk at the Ramada Solihull tomorrow. Hope to see you there!

Freaky!

Whatever your beliefs, whether you class yourself as religious, atheist, agnostic, spiritualist, humanist, to name but a few, they are still a system of beliefs by which you lead your life.

Whilst not a great believer in all things astrological, I have found that Mr Johnathon Cainer very often reflects either how I am feeling or what is happening in my life with spooky accuracy.

So this is my horoscope for today : Are you going round in circles? Are you almost, but not quite, back where you started from with little to show for it? It is easy to jump to such a conclusion when events appear to take a repetitive turn and we happen to be feeling disconsolate. But we may be painting a far too pessimistic picture when we do that. Everything in life has a cycle, and a cycle often brings up familiar experiences. There is a big difference between where you were once and where you are now. You will yet gain greatly from that.

Ok so far so good...or perhaps bad, depending how you read the above.

But when I came to the first chapter I am editing today [remember this book was written 18 months ago] and read the following paragraph I had written back then, I had to assume that the Universe IS trying to tell me something.

Here it is : -

“All those years ago I made choices and so did Martin. Those choices can’t be undone. All we can ever do is learn to move on from them. And hope for the best. And if one day, a situation arises that puts you back almost exactly in that same place then perhaps you take the other choice, the one you didn’t take the last time, the one that your heart wants.” A tear slowly slid down her cheek. And he understood that her words were her challenge to the universe, just as his has been.

 

Freaky, isn't it?

So what do you make of it? Am I going round in circles? Answers on a postcard, please! x

I love how sensible my characters are - I wish I could emulate them. Here is the latest on The Letter.

“Look at me,” she said softly.

He shook his head and even from the side she could see the watery glint which welled there. “What are you hiding Tod?”

“I’m not hiding anything. I’m hiding me…”

Fran felt herself getting angry. “Today isn’t the day for being enigmatic… God knows there is enough I haven’t understood or noticed in my life up until now. Which is why I’m about to say this:- if you won’t tell me what the Hell is going on, I will walk away right now and never see you again!”

Coming Soon

My latest book  [almost completed] is about a woman whose life falls apart after she hears some revelations. Is she like me? No, not at all, but even so, getting into her head space is draining and emotional. That is of course part of the joy and sorrow of writing - you personally bear the pain of every misfortune your character suffers. And then at the end of the book there is no real sense of release... the characters linger for a while. It's like that old saying they used to have in offices which read, "You don't have to be mad to work here... but it helps." You don't have to be insane to write your characters well but... :)

 

I'm not sure when this one will be published, as you know I have a bit of a backlog going on, but I'll keep you posted.

 

Happy Reading!

Back to the grindstone...

Oh I am so pleased to be getting back into my normal routine.

I have just written this little bit after about a seven week absence. I am so happy!

Behind her Tod sat at the kitchen table. “Are you sure you still want me to stay?” he asked. She nodded without turning around. “I’ll make up a bed for you in a minute but there’s something I have to do first. I have to make a phone call.”

She heard the scrape of the chair. “I’ll go in the other room. Give you some privacy.”

Her voice was sharper than she intended. “Giving people privacy is how this all came about.” She didn’t need to look at him to know that he had stopped in his tracks. “I gave Jim his privacy and he turned to another woman. I let Danni hide things from me… and look how that turned out." She risked a glance over her shoulder. He was looking straight at her and she thought she saw pain in his eyes, but perhaps that was just a reflection of her own. She tried to soften her voice. “Stay. Please.”

OOH things are a-changing!

Happy Reading!

Happy New You.

How has 2016 been treating you so far? Hmm, I thought so!

We expect so much of a new year, a sweeping away of old anxieties and problems, a laying-out of destiny's store, allowing us to cherry-pick the brightest moments to hook our hope onto, as if with the coming of a new calendar, we can instantly become different people living different lives. Or is that just me?

I love New Year and really do see it as a chance for change. I admit that this is lunacy. After all if I haven't managed a change for a duration of the entire previous year, how do I expect to do it in the course of one evening, from one split-second to another, as the clock strikes midnight? And yet I do.

So this year I did something completely different to what I would normally do at midnight. Did it affect a change - well it's a little early to tell, but the initial signs aren't bad, although they are somewhat far from actually being good... Suffice it to say that I'm still working on that!

If you are a reader of this blog, you will know that I purposely moved house just before Christmas so that I could be here for New Year. I also bought myself a new bed and new things to go with it. Psychologically it was a great thing to do as well as being so much better than the old bed.

I am still clearing things out of my old house and into my new one but soon even that too will be ended and a new era will have fully begun. Change happens whether we want it to or not in life and for so long I have been desperate for change, even whilst I was the very one preventing it. So some deep self-analysis has been required. If this sounds maudlin, be reassured, it is the very opposite!

Tomorrow I will pick up with my latest book which is only about eight chapters from completion. I can't wait to get stuck back into my writing.

So in the meantime, whilst you are waiting for news of the latest book,  you can always check out my Owners series or Split Decision by clicking on the links to the right of here.

Happy Reading! x

Here's to 2016!

I hope you are all enjoying the holidays. I am busy packing up my old house and transferring stuff to the new one, as we moved home about a week ago. It is dusty, hard work but I have to admit to loving every minute of it. Like a snake, I feel as if I am shedding a skin and renewing myself as I go along.
 
This past year has been hard but not necessarily bad and there have been many, many high points. It has been a time of challenge, of discovery, an awakening, if you like... a...nd now I know that is set to continue into the coming year.

 
So here is the sales pitch - what you didn't see it coming? If you haven't yet bought one of my books, you are severly missing out!
If you need convincing check out my reviews.
 
And because recently I was asked what I have coming in the near future and for what audience, here is a small list of just some of the books in line to be published:-
 
The Boy Who Rescues Pigeons - young adult/crossover drama
Dancing Feat -chick lit
Ascension -dark, dystopian, paranormal sci-fi
Saving Grace - children's book
The Trouble With Mellillia - children's
The Letter - chick lit
plus the next three volumes in The Owners

There are others coming too. not yet finished but getting along on their way.

So until then - Happy Reading!

Happy New Year!

The main reason for my recent visit to Glasgow was to see my elderly father but I also set time aside to catch up with friends. As we only meet once a year, it is fairly easy to keep up the pretence that I am always well-groomed and presentable and that I never, ever answer the door to the postman in my pjs.

But I knew the day was going to go badly when, sitting perched on her side of the bed in the Travelodge room that I was sharing with her, my two sons and two large dogs, my daughter asked through mouthfuls of cornflakes why I had chosen to dye my hair ginger.

Ginger? Really? I shot up and examined myself to find that she was at least a little right. What I had thought to be a pleasing shade of mid-blonde was indeed rather gingery… which proved that not only was my hair turning white, but my eyesight was failing!

The rest of the day turned out to be different to my expectations too. I had carefully researched where I could meet my friend in the centre of Glasgow to have a drink, as I had not only three children in tow but also two dogs. Finally the internet provided an answer and I arranged the meeting after confirming that they did allow dogs in.

So the appointed day and time came and we made our way to the pub, only to be greeted by two men carrying large bundles of wood into the place.

Horrified, I asked if they had suddenly closed for refurbishment. But they hadn’t. Phew relief! They eyed up the dogs. Equally nervously, I stated that I had already phoned them to check that they allowed dogs in. They assured me they did. We were halfway down the steps into the basement bar before they called me back.

“What?” I asked rather tersely by now. “Aren’t you open yet?”

“Naw hen we’re open,” he said in a broad Glaswegian dialect. “An we’re no doin’ any renovations. An aye yer dugs are welcome in. But ye cannae take yer kids in here.” [Translation: “My dear we are open. There are no renovations being currently carried out and your dogs are most welcome here. But not your children, unfortunately.”]

Would you believe it?

Equally as strange, was the pub we ate at that night which turned out to be a deconsecrated church. The pulpit and area for the choir was still preserved, as was the vaulted ceiling and the stained glass windows. The place was incredibly beautiful and somehow very wrong.

So one pub which was licenced to allow dogs but not kids through the door, and another that had once been the site of religious worship and was now favouring a worship of an entirely different kind altogether? Absolutely! Only in Scotland folks, only in Scotland.

Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas!

A few weeks ago I made my annual pilgrimage to Scotland. I drove for over six hours in a car that was packed fuller than a sardine tin, with me, two teenagers, one pre-teen, two largish dogs, and a mound of luggage which included a mini-fridge [so that we could have cold milk for our cereal, at the Travelodge where we were staying].

And this year, as indeed it had the year before, and the year before that, the Glasgow Motorway [as I like to call it in my technical way] snared me, savaged me and spat me back out in a whimpering heap.

Every single year I get to a point just outside of Glasgow where the motorway signs seem to indicate that I should travel in two opposing directions at once, in order to arrive at my chosen destination. At this point, ever cool headed, I resort to my usual asking of the kids, “Which way, left or right?” and when no answer is forthcoming, I resort to yelling, eyes wide and wild, little veins of red showing through the whites, “WHICH WAY DO I GO? OH DEAR GOD I’VE GONE THE WRONG WAY!”

And this year was no different. Except for one notable exception. I took the wrong exit as usual, knowing that I always did but unable to actually remember which one was the right one… But partway through trying to rectify it and get back onto the motorway, I actually recognised the landmarks due to the fact that I had gone wrong at exactly the same spot the previous occasion and the one before that and the…

This, if nothing else proved a point - I am not beyond learning. Perhaps not enough to stop myself from making the mistake in the first place, but at least enough not to compound the issue when I do.

This was particularly obvious when I had to drive into the centre of Glasgow and found that there was a strange one-way system going on which meant that at all times you could see where you wanted to get to, but couldn’t physically get there unless you suddenly and inexplicably acquired the strength of Atlas and lifting the car aloft on one shoulder, were able to hoist it through pedestrian areas and the wrong way up one way-streets.

So why don’t I use a map or a sat-nav? Well the answer to the satellite navigation conundrum lies buried in a previous column and as for the map… The truth is that I am a Glaswegian by birth, so I kind of have this belief that I can find my way around, if not by memory, then by osmosis, where I basically absorb the knowledge unconsciously from strangers passing by. Hey why not? – They are Glaswegian, I am Glaswegian – can’t you catch knowledge like you do the common cold?

Apparently not! Maybe this Christmas I will treat myself to a map… then again perhaps that would just ruin the annual adventure.

Merry Christmas!

Moving!

Ok so here's where it's at... my back is all healed thank goodness and now in fact I think it was a strange virus as others are telling me they have had the same thing.

The house is getting packed up relatively easily.... and I have been moving some stuff to the new house every day for about a week as I am having to be there for various workmen anyway.

Tomorrow I am moving my high heels in - that's a feat [pun intended] in itself. And on Sunday and Monday we will do the actual move with the movers.

I have the laminate for the lounge and hallway arriving on Tuesday so no Zumba that day unless I can shimmy whilst unpacking [there's a thought!]

There's a workman coming on Wednesday to fit the laminate, decorate the lounge and do lots of other things. Since he isn't Superman he will be there for a few days I guess but the house will be completely done before Christmas.

As you know it had been my intention to do it myself but to be perfectly honest he will do a better job and I will live longer without the stress. I will be bagging up and getting rid of lots of things during this process and actually can't wait.

For the rest of my plans, well you will just have to keep reading this blog, won't you?

 

In  the meantime, treat yourself and buy one of my books.