Seeing my first novel in print, has lived up to all expectations, it is a euphoric moment in my writing life, but I couldn't have done it without...
Here is the official book trailer for my first novel Just Say It. I am excited and terrified in equal measures! I’d had a shot at writing a novel before, when I was in my thirties, but the time didn’t feel right. Although I had written short stories and miscellaneous features for magazines and newspapers... Continue Reading →
It's been a long time coming, but here is the official cover reveal for my first novel, Just Say It, which will be available on Amazon soon.
I had a significant confidence wobble last night. I am not quite sure why, when I am so close to achieving my goal, as I can - finally - see the light at the end of the tunnel, I suddenly felt like a jellied mass with a blancmange for brains.
I was recently invited to write some free poetry WE PAW Bloggers E-zine — Issue 74. The subject was, 'things that inspire you, and' my contribution, with its innovative title, 'The Things That Inspire Me', proved to be a liberating experience. Poetry was my first love, but it has been several decades since I last wrote a poem,... Continue Reading →
I had set my heart on being traditionally published and, during the first lockdown, I was presented with the best opportunity I would ever have to buff up my manuscript. Over twelve months later, the competition from others vying to see their name in print is fiercer than it has ever been. In the current climate, agents will struggle to find the time to read all the MS's are receiving from the ever-growing numbers of wannabe authors. 2021 was the time to 'get myself out there.' I'm no spring chicken, so I need to get on with it. So why did I hang around when I've been sitting on a finished manuscript for such a long time? Well, however old you are, your self-confidence often needs buoying up, even if you believe you have a story worth telling, and there is no better person to do that than your editor.
I stumbled across this image today posted on FB by the author Laurie Buchanan. It made me realise how dilatory I have been recently, when it comes to reading and reviewing the work of self-published authors, many of whom are friends. Reading and reviewing books by self-published authors is key to their success. Reviews, good or bad, are... Continue Reading →
The growing pains of a virgin novelist are real. It will be six years at the end of June since I started writing my first novel. At various intervals during that time, I celebrated reaching 'The End' but realised, after all that deluded carousing, writing a novel is more than just telling a story.
Out of the dark, comes the light and the sounds of a commotion. I am focusing on colours, flickering and dancing behind closed eyelids. I snap my eyes open, but the light is blinding, and I close them again. My heart is fluttering, and I imagine a swallow flying in the summer sun.
To be honest, in 2019, I didn't have a clue about about how long the editing process was going to take. I was so excited to have 'finished' my first novel, I believe I would have laughed out loud if someone told me I'd still be editing the same manuscript, two years on.
At the end of last year, an edit of my 'finished' novel, Just Say It, highlighted I had a problem with multiple point of views, I largely ignored it, until I received the latest critique, which not only highlighted the multiple POV's issue, but it also pointed out that I was also guilty of another writer's crime, authorial intrusion. So I need to back off, and let my characters do the talking!
There is always a great deal going on inside my head at the same time as I bounce ideas off each other. Too many, on occasions. I flit and float from one thought to the next, so perhaps that is one reason why I have allowed something similar to creep into my fiction writing. Unwittingly, I have been... Continue Reading →
My mother and I were never close. There has never been an unshakable emotional bond between us. No invisible strand that binds a mother to her child, post umbilical tie. Even as a child, I felt more of an accessory than a daughter. She never tried to cultivate a rapport between us, so I never felt that ache. That overwhelming sense of dread that engulfs you when you think about losing someone you love.
A chick, in my book, is a baby chicken covered in downy, yellow feathers up until the age of 6-weeks. I've always bristled when the term is applied to young women, and I have always subconsciously disassociated myself from Chick lit, believing the genre to be driven by scantily clad, sex-driven female main characters. I couldn't have been more wrong and, although I'm not a fan of categories, it's time to reassess the genre I think I've been writing in.
I imagine walking down the usually buzzing main shopping street, with the theme from The Good, The Bad and the Ugly ringing in my ears. The only other sound is my boots connecting with the pavement as I walk. It is only me and tumbleweed. It's a sad fact, and I don't mean to be flippant, although the reference to tumbleweed is artistic licence. I never thought I would live through a global pandemic. Let's hope I do; it's not over yet. The threat of succumbing to COVID-19 is constant, especially now three different variants of the virus have been identified, but I am reliably informed that viruses always mutate. I wish this one wouldn't!
Edna is a member of both DAWG, the Didsbrook Authors and Writers Group and DADS, the Didsbrook Amateur Dramatic Society. She is blessed with an unwavering self-belief that she is about to join the ranks of world-renown authors, convinced she is Didsbrook’s answer to J. K. Rowling, hence her rather suspect non-de-plume, E. D. Fowling. Edna is one of my favourite characters from The Doyenne of Didsbrook because every inch of her reminds me of one of Roy Clarke's wonderful characters, Hyacinth Bucket.
I would like to introduce you to the gin-swilling Miss Laverty, one of the characters from my first novel, Just Say It. The year is 1963, and my main protagonist, Lisa Grant, is four-years-old. Her mother, the self-centred Elizabeth, has hatched a plan with two families living down the road to employ a governess to teach Lisa and the neighbours' young daughters.
When writing fiction, creating characters has always been the fun part for me. Getting inside each character's head and shaping them into credible human beings for others to enjoy, love or hate.
He stopped his tirade and got up to pour himself a stiff whiskey and, realising he was trembling, knocked it back in one. 'Damn you, Will! If we are going to make our marriage work, the least you can do is be civil to me. You're widely regarded as being exceedingly bright. So, you should be able to work it out.' ‘Work out what?’ He turned to glower at her, and hissed ‘insufferable as well as insane,’ before slamming his glass down on to the drinks tray and poured himself another one. 'The dates, Will, they don't add up. Not with Jeremy anyway, and Grandbo only wants to walk a virgin up the aisle. He told me to get out when he found out I wasn't.' Elizabeth started to sob. 'He was about to put his grandmother's engagement ring on my finger. It's a sapphire... the size of a quail’s egg. Oh, Will, I really thought he was going to be the one. Unfortunately, he's not interested in marrying a woman with a desecrated hymen, let alone one carrying a developing foetus. My life is ruined, and I never wanted children, and it's all your fault!'
I was delighted to be a contributor for Jersey Life's December 2020/January 2021 edition. My brief was to write an article on the benefits of writing for mental health and general well-being, especially in light of COVID-19 and the effects of Lockdown, and I came up with Writing to Heal. It is a very personal account of... Continue Reading →