That sinking feeling...

I was in two minds about posting this, because it deals with a rough time recently which resulted in a few issues around the publication of Tilda and the Mines of Pergatt. 

However, I decided to go ahead and share this with you because it's another pointer towards how hard writing and publication can be when you're not completely focused. I have to say that I'm really thankful for the support of the team at Bedazzled Ink in this, which made it possible to still meet the intended publication day; they cover pretty much every aspect of the publication process themselves, and I didn't make their job easy with this particular novel!

So what happened?

In January, I received the edit from Bink. I worked through that OK and sent it back a few days later for the typeset to be prepped. Bink also worked on the cover design (which I LOVE!) and the blurb, so although there was radio silence for a while, I knew cogs were turning furiously behind the scenes.

Then - COVID. The world went a bit mad, and my head wasn't good with the weirdness of everything. I fought the panic attacks of my first post-lockdown shopping trips, stayed at home, and kept on editing Tilda #3 while I waited for the typeset of Tilda #2. 

We settled a bit more into the new 'normal' and got to May 8th...when my father-in-law died. (Thought to be Covid related, but not confirmed).

Things got a bit blurry after that, as you can imagine. And in the middle of that particular cloud of grief, the typeset arrived. I worked my way through it, using it as a distraction, and sent it back on the 20th.

But something was niggling at me. There were a couple of places in the novel where I felt I'd not explained things properly or there was a lack of consistency with the first book. On the 22nd, I emailed Bink to say that, as much as it pained me to say it - we were at the typeset stage, for Power's sake! - I didn't think the book was ready to be published. Could they give me a bit more time to address the issues?

Bink might well have had a facepalm moment in the office, but they never hesitated; I was given a week. 

In hindsight, I realise I was not in a good place mentally - haven't been for a while - and probably should have given the edit much more time. The Black Dog that people talk about had actually been loping alongside me at a distance since well before January; since lockdown he's been an awful lot closer at times, and I finally recognised him for what he was. I'm still up-and-down a bit, but on the down days, I allow myself the time I need to do something that doesn't involve concentration...

Back to the book. 28th May saw my typeset notes returned to Bink. A day later there was a revamped typeset back with me for final read through and I still found things to change! Mainly cos I'd missed them before, but also as a result of the changes I'd asked for previously. (I wonder if there is a record of how many times something's been read and changed and faults are still being picked up?) 

Either way, on the 1st June, Tilda and the Mines of Pergatt was published digitally - hooray! Paperbacks would follow! All done!

Not quite. June 9th, I had a surprise delivery; I videoed myself opening the box!

And then, as I began to take photos to post on the Scribbles, my heart sank. I realised there was a typo on the spines... The title was Tilda and the Merjan. Talk about being in the clouds one minute, and dashed to earth the next. My first reaction was, what would readers think if they'd ordered books already and they arrived with a duff spine title? 

But within 24 hours, and even considering the time difference between us, Bink were on it, had made the changes, sent the cover flat to me to double check it, and the new cover version was on its way to the printers. 

If you do receive a copy with the wrong title though, hang onto it - I'm reliably informed by Bink that some book collectors pay good money for copies that have mistakes on them. So when I'm rich and famous, you might be able to cash in! I have forty of them myself...they will either have a corrected 'patch' added to the spine, or be sold as is - both cheaper than a 'proper' copy - at some point in the future...

It's all been a bit mad, but we've come through and out of the other side and I'm still smiling. 

At least I've learnt to recognise the Black Dog so I can take steps to keep him at a distance in future - or not tackle important stuff when he's trotting at my side.

Keeping Yourself Motivated (When Your Writing Needs a Retreat - Part 3)

The second workshop with Isabel Costello at the retreat was about Motivation, and followed on from Inspiration the previous day. It was based around a series of workshops that Isabel already runs with Voula Tsoflias, called Resilience for Writers, but the skills - once learned - can be applied to any life situation.

The definition of motivation is much easier to pin down, and less subjective, than that of inspiration; 'the desire or willingness to do something; enthusiasm.'

Now, I've had slumps. Times when I simply can't be bothered to do the thing I know I need to do. It's lost it's spark; I've fallen out of love with it; someone has prevented me; I don't want to do it, or Life gets in the way. So this workshop really helped me to think through what motivates me - and how I manage to claw myself back from setbacks.

First, we were asked WHY we wrote. The reasons were many and varied. My own were to encourage children to read, and because fantasy is a chance to leave the real world behind and immerse myself in another place. And because I enjoy creating those other worlds...

Some of the other reasons were;

• I enjoy it
• characters can do/say the things I can't
• I can broach difficult situations
• I can't not
• I love words
• it's a safe place to be somebody else
• to connect with other people
• because no-one else is me.

NOBODY said 'to get rich and famous.' 

Have you ever listed the positive qualities of your writing? I bet most of the time you end up saying 'it's not my best. It's not very good. It's probably rubbish...' We were challenged to write down three good things about our writing. The qualities were very personal, and in some cases demonstrated how difficult we find it to accept that we do things well. Was it because we were women and not used to 'bigging ourselves up'? Or our British restraint? 

Having listed these positives, how often did we allow ourselves to think those thoughts? My answer was 'every time I read a badly-written book.' But even then, it's not very often... So what ration of time did I spend taking time for positive reflection compared to negative criticism? Well...let's just say 'could do better.'

To build on the idea of being positive about our writing, we were invited to recount our proudest or happiest writing moment. They were; 

• being anthologised - it was like being made a saint. (This one resulted in the person being referred to as 'Saint X' for the rest of the day - but we all knew what she meant.)
• finishing a story - this is a huge one! (So many people 'have a story to tell' but never actually write it or get to the end of it once they start it.)
• a friend reading the author's book about a family issue which subsequently gave the friend hope for her own situation. (How often does sharing our own hard experience help someone else?)
• overcoming the fear of having dyslexia to reading aloud for the first time in a writer's group. (Fear can be an old, old friend...it's good to be able to kick its butt every now and then.)
• winning a competition at a comedy festival. (Always a fabulous moment.)
• when the agent read the author's book on the train, and ended up laughing so hard, the man sitting opposite her moved away. (What more could you ask for, when writing comedy?)
• attending an assembly, watching children act out a story they'd written collectively, based on a character created by the author. (Still gives me the grins, years later!)
• the debut novel launch party! (Celebration most definitely in order.)

We decided we should celebrate our fabulousness - and visualise success to make it happen.

And that's where the resilient thinking comes in. Because we're used to focusing on the negatives - I'll never get published, I'm a rubbish writer compared to..., things will never get better - and our negative thoughts make us feel bad and then we act in unhelpful ways, (albeit not always consciously) we need something to help us 'to recognise and adapt unhelpful thoughts and beliefs to recover more quickly from setbacks'. 

It's based on CBT - Cognitive Behavioural Therapy - which encourages you to change the way you think about how you feel, and change the way you feel about how you think.

This was demonstrated by Isabel asking us to place different words relating to feelings into quadrants labelled: negative emotions, high energy; negative emotions, low energy; positive emotions, high energy; and positive emotions, low energy. There was quite some discussion during this activity, and it got quite emotional as certain negatively charged words struck a chord with us. Once the words were down - there was no right or wrong answer as to where they should go - Isabel relabelled the quadrants. They became zones of survival mode, burnout, inspired, and recovery. As you might expect, all of us felt we created our best work when experiencing feelings that resided in the positive emotion areas, although most of us associated this with 'recovery' feelings rather than 'inspired' ones. The trick was to recognise your own personal sweet spot, and do your best to move yourself from either of the negative quadrants back into it. 

All of us looking very thoughtful, trying to decide if the words were in the 'right' places
(Moira's photo) 

There was also a lot of discussion around what happens to put us into the negative emotion areas. Husbandly interruptions featured highly (!), with social media a close second. There were much bigger issues mentioned too - lost publication deals, unsupportive friends, family crises - which were obviously situations that lay outside of our control.

What DID lay within our control was how we thought about all of them. Yes, we would acknowledge the situation and the pain it caused, but we didn't have to let it dictate what happened afterwards. 

This has to be something you learn to do, because it requires a certain level of self awareness and that isn't always an easy thing to develop. For a start, in order to be more self-aware, we have to expose our vulnerabilities - one of the retreatees likened it to picking a scab and allowing yourself to bleed - and the places where those vulnerabilities stemmed from. That's not an easy or comfortable thing to do, but if it's understood why we might be feeling the way we are and can then rationalise our catastrophic thoughts as a result, perhaps we stand a chance of changing our actions that follow into something more positive. 

I think I'm already fairly resilient-ish regarding writing. For example - I've picked myself up after rejection. Sometimes, I admit, I got depressed and didn't write. At others, I got angry and thought 'I'll show you'. I know which worked better for me... I realised that it's easier to apply to writing - because that's more in MY control. I find it harder to apply the same principles to situations in my life when I'm not in control of external factors and I'm more emotionally affected, but I'll keep trying.

Going back to motivation then...resilient thinking can help keep you working on a project - like trying to get a novel published and it taking ten or more years (StarMark!) to achieve. But it might need something extra too. Here are a few things that were suggested. 

Make a list of achievable goals. Especially if, like me, you write a long list of BIG things and end up feeling overwhelmed. Break it down into smaller chunks, cross off part-jobs. Or - and yes, I do this! - add completed jobs that didn't originally feature on the list, to the list, simply for the satisfaction of crossing something off! 

Set a time limit. Tell yourself you're going to write for an hour. That's all. Just an hour. And then get on with it. The Writing Room offers extreme versions of this - you set yourself a goal for the session in a room full of writers, and at the end you see what you've achieved. 

Set a word count instead. Doesn't matter how many, but be realistic about how many words you think you can achieve in a specific time period. And if it proves to be too high, don't feel bad about changing it down until you hit a number that seems to be working out for you.  

Visualise your success. It does work, because your conscious and subconscious brain try to come into alignment, but you need to remember that what 'success' means is different for everyone. What is your personal measure of success?

Celebrate the steps along the way, not just the destination arrived at. End of a chapter, a thousand words, finishing the first s****y draft...

And finally, a personal faith-based example of my own; years ago, I was struggling to pray in a particular way. A visiting minister preached about how he'd had exactly the same problem, and shared the advice he was given. 'Pray in the way that you CAN,' he was told. 'Not in the way that you CAN'T.' 

Ultimately, I reckon to keep ourselves motivated in writing, we each need to write in the way that we can, not in the way that we can't. And to do that successfully, we need to be able to recognise both what keeps us in our personal positive sweet spots, and what we can do to make it easier to get back there when life takes us to the dark side.

So here's to finding the silver lining in every cloud, and keeping going when things get tough.

How to market your books - and yourself, as a writer

I've been forced recently to question whether I do enough to market my own books; I've had some really disappointing sales figures.

It got me thinking, and I was challenged to take a look at what I already do, marketing-wise, to see whether I can improve things. So...

Blogging.

I blog, and not as often as I used to, I'll admit.

There are two reasons for that. The first is that over the last twelve, possibly eighteen months, I've been in a bit of a funk. Life has felt like a huge effort - my world seems to have shrunk and I've been pretty down at times. I believe I am peri-menopausal (sorry fellas, if you're reading!) which has affected my mood, confidence, concentration, and motivation. Quite frankly on occasions I've just wanted to shut the world out and curl up in a ball until I feel better. Another reason is that the Squidgelings are both at uni now, and I have found it extremely hard to adapt to them not being at home, as well as coping with issues they have had while they're away. Maybe I should've pushed myself to still share my life and writing, but I simply couldn't.

At least the blog's still here, and it's still the first place people come to, to find out about me and what I write. I like writing posts - and I hope you enjoy reading them, even if there haven't been as many of late.

Website.

I do have one. But set up after the Scribbles 'because authors need a website', I never really saw the need for it after establishing a blog - and it's horribly out of date. I used a freebie website thing to set it up, but the problem was that I didn't find it easy to use or make changes to. I was also using it so infrequently, I'd forget how to do things or the templates would have been updated and I didn't have a clue. I've said before I'm a bit of a numpty when it comes to IT - I'd rather not do it than make a mess.

I did look at getting one set up for me, but the cost was prohibitive, especially if I wanted to transfer all my Scribbles over to a new domain/host/whatever it's called. I will work on it in the future, but even with some lovely advice available from BInk, it's literally all double-dutch to me.

Facebook.

I'm on it. As myself, not as 'Author', and I'll admit to being very careful here about posting marketing information. Mainly cos facebook take offence if you sell on an undesignated page, but also because facebook for me is about more than selling. It's friendship and keeping in touch, and I don't want to jeopardise friendships by seeming to ram my books down people's throats. Of course I share when I've got a new book out or a cover reveal, but I don't do it to gain sales - I do it to share my excitement.

In all of my social media, I'm genuinely me, and that's something that seems to be really valuable when...

Selling the books.

The vast majority of sales for my novels are direct sales - it's relationships that sell books in my experience. People will buy once they've met me, but if they see my books as being written by an unknown author, they don't tend to take a punt without some knowledge under their belt or a recommendation. That's where catchy blurb/eyecatching cover becomes important too.

In the vast ocean of books on Amazon, my novels are mere amoeba and have to fight extra hard for attention. Especially when it's probably not children - my target market - doing the searching for suitable reading materials, but their parents and grandparents. Ditto on a bookstore shelf; most bookstores have children's titles limited to the big names or popular formula series that children love to read.

My novels have proven to have crossover appeal (instead of middle-grade, they need an 'anyone over 9 years' tag!) but labelling them as children's books can put adults off buying them for themselves.

And the price...I've said it before and I'll say it again - selling children's books is hard. An unknown author, whose books are twice the price of a known author (I know, there's also economy of scale to consider) is unlikely to get chosen. But a lot of the time the price is out of my control...

So relationship is really important for my sales figures.

Reviews.

I do get some lovely comments from readers. I also get some lovely reviews, but not very many. That said, I'm not very good at asking for feedback. All my books are listed on Goodreads and I've done giveaways; I've had one review as a result. One. From several, multiple copy giveaways.

Book reviewers like to have ARC's (Advance Reader Copies), and I'd be happy to send some out - but who do you ask? Children? Adult readers? Book bloggers? (The latter are really hard to get featured by, and I've not seen many for children's books.) The latter tend to focus on big names...

Author events.

I do a fair few of these in schools, for groups, or at fairs. I normally hope to cover my table fee, if nothing else - but schools can be tricky as they may not want you to sell direct. Most of the money I make as an author comes from events where I'm giving a talk or running a creative writing session and charge a fee - any books sold on top are usually a bonus.

Guest blogs.

I don't do this very often, but sometimes I write blogs for other sites. This widens my reach, but doesn't necessarily convert to sales.



Looking at all of that, I think I market myself more than my books - but I market myself in order to sell my books. Does that matter? It gets sales...but maybe I need to backtrack a step.

Why did I start writing books in the first place? To give readers good stories. Did I want to be rich and famous? No - I wanted to encourage children to read. So maybe, just maybe, I need to not be so worried about the marketing? Having said that, I'll ask for more reviews. I'll blog more. I'll take another look at the website and attend more author events if life allows me to. I might even blow my own trumpet a bit more.

Oh, and I'll be sure to hand out some of my new business cards...

Charnwood 2019

I've been to camp again recently, with 5,500 campers from the worldwide family of Scouts and Guides. It's the ninth camp of this sort I've attended (only the eighth I've camped at.)

(You can find out about my long association with Charnwood International Scout and Guide camps here, and what I did in the 2016 camp, here. And if you want to see a more general history, check out the Charnwood website too.)

The site was HUGE - the biggest yet, as you can see from this aerial photo. Look closely - you might see the wind turbine. Not Bib Bob, I hasten to add - probably a distant relative though!

Main sub camps to the right and bottom, staff subcamp to the left,
main arena with the biggest marquees! 

Those two marquees? Breathing Space.

I was part of the Breathing Space team, who were tasked with providing a quiet and faith space for campers, run along similar lines to the Channel Your Thoughts tent of 2016. The success of CYT meant that this time round, our presence was advertised and promoted well before the camp began. We also ended up with more space; in 2016, we were in one large marquee. This time, we were spread across two marquees, both individually about three to four times the size of the 2016 one. And again, we were in the central area, available to anyone.

Our Breathing Space logo...in 3D. Provided a great photo opportunity...

...and our distinctive team neckers, complete with
Breathing Space Challenge Badge

We had three zones across our marquees: Sshhh, Haven, and Reflection. Sshhh provided quiet, mostly self-run activities such as colouring, Lego, puzzles, games, a few crafts which changed daily, a small library of books and Beano comics, and a stitched banner. It also housed our friendship postbox and the Worry Monster!

Haven was an area of the second marquee which had some similar quiet activities for campers who either needed a smaller space and fewer people to feel comfortable, or who needed someone to talk to if things got too much for them. And Reflection was the rest of the same marquee, which housed our team 'office', a large area for specific faith services, thought for the day sessions, and on site trainings, as well as a private prayer space. It worked really well to separate the areas, not least because we didn't have to reorganise the tent at any point.

Well, not until Tuesday, but I'll get to that in a moment.

We opened on the Saturday afternoon as campers were arriving on site, and were pleased to see leaders bringing the young people who they thought might need us to the tent straightaway to orient them and introduce team members so there was a familiar face when they next popped in. Our 'triage' approach worked well too - we were able to identify campers who might need a little more TLC than others and direct them to Haven rather than Sshhh.

And then it started raining. Now, rain on camp isn't usually a problem, but it came down in buckets. The campsite quickly became extremely muddy or was under water in several places, and some sub camps were left fighting to keep liquid mud from running through their sites.

Standing water...

...which turned into slurry as thousands of folk
all walked the same way to their activities

It rained on Sunday, too, and camp conditions deteriorated so much, I sent Mr Squidge to a well known camping store to buy welly boots, as it turned out that my walking boots were not in the least bit waterproof.

Not very clear, but my very muddy and wet boots,
just before I got into my sleeping bag!

(He was ready and waiting when the shop opened on Monday morning - they only had large sizes left as there'd been something of a run on wellies because some international groups had arrived without suitable footwear. Fortunately the lovely shop assistant rummaged round the back and found a pair of size 4 pink wellies so Mr Squidge snapped them up and brought them over to me. Dry feet! A luxury!)

Monday, the sun shone. It began to dry out some areas of the site, but sub camps were still pretty bad. Friends who were camping with their units were cooking while standing ankle deep in water. I saw photos of others scraping the worst of the liquid mud up with baking trays to try to keep it from entering food prep areas.

I hadn't seen camp conditions like this since Charnwood 80, which started muddy and then dried out.

That wasn't to be the case this time. It began to rain again. And it kept on raining. We didn't realise at the time that Leicestershire was having a month's worth of rain in two days. Hay had already been put down on Sunday in the worst places to try to mop up water. Now it was bark chippings in the car parks to prevent vehicles getting stuck, and trenches being dug to try to re-route running water. Some groups went home with wet gear that night to dry off and come back the next day...

And then on Tuesday night, after relentless rain all day, we got the order to strip out our marquees to provide communal dry sleeping space for campers who were flooded out of their tents. And still the rain kept coming down...

We woke on Wednesday morning to the news that camp was going to have to close early. The conditions were simply too bad. To my knowledge, it's the first time an international camp in this country has had to close in this way due to weather conditions. It was very, very sad - but the best decision under the circumstances.

The Breathing Space team were asked to stay on. We were working just in one marquee now - the other had people sleeping in it - and we couldn't provide all that we had planned to. But we kept the space open for those who needed us and what we were still able to offer under challenging circumstances. And we stayed until Friday lunchtime, one of the few tents continuing to offer activities for campers - particularly some of the international visitors - who couldn't leave on the Thursday.

In some respects, it was the hardest camp I have ever been on. Even without the weather, we were busy from the moment we opened our marquees at 8.30am to the moment we shut them up, around 10pm (later if someone still needed us.) We had a lunch hour so we could eat, and we protected our evening meal times as far as we could, but other than that we never stopped. And we waded - literally waded - through mud, in the dark, back to our sleeping tents (which stayed standing and mainly dry, despite the awful weather).

In other ways, it was the best camp I've ever been on. Everyone pulled together. The longest shift we heard about (Facilities and H&W were literally working non-stop) was 26 hours, as folk battled to keep the site working, and the spirit of Guiding and Scouting - the 'do your best, have courage in all difficulties' - was very much in evidence. The young folk still had a brilliant time. Breathing Space was enjoyed and appreciated by those who needed us. And I had the privilege of working in an amazing team who supported each other just as much as they supported anxious or tired campers.

I met some incredibly inspiring young people, and was blessed to witness several moments of deep spirituality within the services and inter faith sessions I helped to provide.

I was in the camp newspaper twice, (!) and met many international campers I probably wouldn't have met if I'd been a guider-in-charge looking after a unit.

The Taiwanese scouts were a lovely bunch

Very proud of our interfaith prayer space  - it was used several times.

Yes, I was tired, and muddy, and sad when I got home, but on balance, it was a brilliant camp. Here are a few more photos - with thanks to fellow team members for letting me share their pics, because I took so few of my own.

What camp looked like in a rare sunny moment, with all the flags flying

Our psychedelic colouring wall after it got dripped on!

Big Knit hats. You might spot my pencil, a couple of
funky chickens, and my frog's eyes...

My 'haul' of badges; now need to sew them onto my camp blanket!

And the next one? Due in 2023. We're already thinking about it...

The end of an era

No, I'm not quitting blogging. Although I admit, I have been very lax at getting blogs written recently. I will endeavour to do better!

The title of this blog refers to the Word Cloud. Many of you know that I have been a member of this online writing community for a number of years. It was a fabulous place, where writers could find other writers to talk through the technical stuff, get feedback on their writing, make wonderful writing friends, and ultimately celebrate and commiserate with each other on their writing journeys.

You'll notice, perhaps, that I wrote 'was a fabulous place'.

Because the Cloud is no more.

SocialGo have removed support for whichever version of their software the cloud used, and two or three days ago, the cloud disappeared. There were rumours about SocialGo pulling the plug, but no firm dates. I managed to save some of the lovely comments I'd received about some short stories I'd written, but other than that... I couldn't face trawling through years' worth of written material. So I left everything. And hoped.

But to no avail. There is now only a blank screen - and no cloud.

It's disappearance takes with it probably hundreds of blogs. Some which made me laugh, some which made me cry. Some recounted the long, hard road to publication. Some existed to provoke heated discussion about all manner of topics. Some told deeply personal experiences. And others were written purely for fun.

Also lost in the digital ether are the seeds of several published and best selling novels. There are even competition winning short stories, or opening chapters, or flash fiction.

There were conversations between friends. Photographs of memorable moments. Links to useful writing related sites.


All of it has gone - in the blink of an eye.

There is a glimmer of hope... But at the moment, I'm feeling too sad about the cloud. I'll tell you about the new place tomorrow.

News!!

Well, unfortunately Kingstone didn't make the shortlist for the Leicester Book Prize; I always knew it would be a tough call when I saw the other books longlisted with it!

Congratulations to Rod Duncan, whose novel Queen of All Crows, was crowned Leicester Book of the Year 2018.

However, I do have a little bit of good news to share...

Yup. 

I'm going to be publishing a third novel with Bink under their Dragonfeather imprint. 

The Mage of Merjan is the first in a series of - hopefully - five novels about Tilda and her adventures on the island of Issraya. (I'm already half way through drafting the second...) 

So I can't be too sad about the Book Prize, can I?

Looking forward very much to introducing you to Tilda sometime in the future. 

The School Inspector on tour...

Recently, I went to our town hall to spend an evening with Gervase Phinn.

For those who don't know him, he's an author and educator who writes a lot about his days as a schools inspector in Yorkshire, and about the things children say.

I was interested to go because I think it's always good to hear what other authors have to say, although I admit that my only Gervase Phinn book is 'A Wayne in a Manger' - a collection of very funny moments relating to school Nativity plays and Christmas events.

Mr Phinn himself is a larger than life, colourful character who certainly knows how to engage with an audience; said audience was very much older in the main, and appreciated the double entendres and innuendo a lot more than me and Mr Squidge perhaps did at times!

At times though, we were in stitches.

Like when Gervase told us about the little girl who was going to sing a song for him, called 'Damp Settee'. He then proceeded to sing it... 'Dance then, wherever you may be...I am the Lord of the damp settee...!'

And when he explained how he'd tried to show another little girl how to make sandcastles by adding water from the water tray into the dry sand tray, using his fingers to mix them together.... She still could not be persuaded though, and when Gervase asked why not, she told him that a classmate had just wee'd into the water tray...

You get the gist.

But what also came across is that Gervase is passionate about education, particularly getting children reading, and building society through literacy. He recounted some of his own school experiences, as well as family anecdotes that helped to shape him into the writer he is today.

So we chuckled and chortled, and afterwards, I went to buy a book from his signing table.

I have to say - the children I meet in schools know how to behave better than some of the adults in that signing queue. Not only had the adults uncovered the book table and started helping themselves to copies before Gervase had even appeared, they just sort of crowded round the table and pushed and shoved. There was no queue. And when Gervase finally sat down (having changed from his multicoloured jacket into a Penguin (as in the publisher) T-shirt) a queue did form. At the opposite end to where I'd been waiting patiently since I was the fourth person out.

Miffed, I stepped out of the scrum and stood back until the end, chose a book and waited for a signature. One minute, Gervase was writing in my book and talking to me, the next minute he spots someone else. Introductions were made, plans discussed...and I'm still standing there like a lemon. In the end, he handed me the book I'd bought, (while still talking to the other person) and I was left to sort of slink away...a bit disappointed, if I'm honest.

It made me determined to be more like Chris Riddell, at my own signings... He took time to talk to every single person who wanted a book signing. Admittedly, the event I attended with Chris was an afternoon, not an evening after several other evenings - Gervase was obviously tired by the time he got to me after an hour and three quarters of entertaining, followed by a half hour of signings. So I can sort of make allowances, but it did take a bit of the shine off the evening for me.

I am now looking forward to reading 'Mangled English', which describes all sorts of ways that our rich language is used and abused in comedic ways. And to some more chuckles...

But speaking of author talks and the like - I shall be doing several talks to social groups over the next couple of months, as well as spending a day with Year 3, 4 and 5 children at Outwoods Edge School as part of this year's Loogabarooga Festival. Check out the programme - there are some amazing authors and illustrators coming! Including the current Children's Laureate, Lauren Child!

I shall expect any signing queues to be well behaved... *winks*

The day no-one came

Remember I said I was doing a talk about being an author for the Nanpantan Festival? It was today.

I was all set. Books to sell alongside other craft items; a display of publications; speaking podium, props, and presentation all lined up ready to go...

...and no-one came.

Well, actually there were five of us at church; two ladies to serve lunches, a welcomer, the festival organiser, and me. But no-one came to hear the talk.

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't expecting a massive audience.

But not a single person?

Perhaps it was the weather. It has been torrential rain all day here and I don't blame folks for not wanting to go out unless they absolutely had to.

Perhaps it was because it was lunchtime, rather than the evening. Folks do have to work. And eat.

Perhaps people simply weren't interested? Although five minutes before I left the house, I had a phone call asking for an author talk, so maybe they are.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed - of course I am.

But I'm not about to let a no-show audience knock my confidence. The years of critique and feedback and rejection have thickened my skin so that I don't take things like this personally any more. Instead, I'm philosophical. I now have an author talk - with slides and notes - all prepared and ready for when it's needed.

I'm stronger than this setback.

And I'm going to spend this evening writing.

So there.

Giving up? Or going with my gut?

I've been writing The Crystal Keeper's Daughter for a while now - almost twelve months. I began writing it after a very busy and reasonably stressy time (my trip to India, Mr Squidge's back op) and the story didn't seem to come as easily as Kingstone had.

I tried to write more over the summer - but that was busy too, with Charnwood 2016 and a Flower Festival at church. I confess, I ignored CKD for long periods of time, trying to work out the finer details of  the plot, ending up feeling as though I was simply digging myself deeper into the mire.

Then I was poorly. The cough virus hit me in September and after the initial week in bed, left me six weeks later with a chest infection bordering on pneumonia that took two courses of strong antibiotics to shift. I didn't have the energy to stand up, let alone the brainpower to write. I only started to feel better around Christmas...

So far this year, I've plodded on with CKD, trying to tell the story I want to tell, but writing time has remained somewhat limited by the fact that I am on a course with church at the moment, and it needs a lot of reading preparation. Reading that takes up what would have been writing time.

But on last Thursday, 14th April, things changed. I was doing a book signing in Waterstones, and had taken a notebook in case inspiration struck.

It did.

Effie Purse introduced herself, and told me her story - what she'd found, and how it changed her life. I liked the idea, and went to bed for a few nights after that unable to sleep as I mulled over what she'd told me.

I was excited for the first time in a long while about writing. I asked a few folk what I should do; here was Effie's story, from start to finish. Should I give in to her and write it? Leave CKD on ice for a bit? I don't like to give up on anything I start, and I know that CKD will be a good tale - when (if?) everything clicks into place. And of course, part of me is wondering whether I've actually wasted the last year persisting with a stuck project. Will I be wasting more time if I stubbornly continue writing CKD just because it happens to be my WIP at the moment?

The common consensus seemed to be 'go with Effie if she's calling to you.' And my gut is telling me the same thing. So... I've left CKD where it is and have started to hand write Effie. It's flowing, it's relatively easy, and it feels a bit like Kingstone did when I began to write it.

I'm aiming to get first s****y draft finished by the end of the summer...and edited by the autumn.

Fingers crossed my gut is giving me good advice, and I'm not using the excitement of a new story as a cover to give up... I don't suppose I'll know until the first draft is finished.

P-p-p-poorly

I hate being ill. I mean properly ill, as opposed to a few sniffles or a day or two feeling a bit under the weather.

Four weeks ago, I had a virus. Four days of almost-flu, followed by feeling better but left with a cough.

The cough persisted. Sometimes, it was so bad I couldn't catch my breath and I was retching. Then it would ease off for hours and I thought it'd gone. Except it hadn't. It became an irritating dry tickly thing...and yet I knew there was no point going to the doctor's because coughs caused by viruses can take up to six weeks to disappear.

Except that things changed on Monday night; I got a pain in my back, assumed I'd pulled a muscle through coughing.

Tuesday, the pain had moved into the ribs on my left side, just at bra-level under my arm. As the day progressed, the pain got steadily worse. Every time I coughed, it was like someone was jabbing me with a sharp stick just below my left breast...and when I sneezed once? I nearly leapt off the sofa.

By this morning, the pain was unbearable. I left my bra off, because even the pressure of the elastic hurt my ribs. Movement caused a deep ache from the bottom of my ribs on the left hand side right up into my shoulder, and I had to hold myself tight every time I tried to cough.

Definitely not normal - so I made an appointment to see the doctor as a matter of urgency.

As I described my symptoms, and then had to pause to hold myself and cough, I saw her shake her head. "That does not sound good," she said.

The diagnosis? My lung was crackling...chest infection. Pneumonia was mentioned, in passing.

Treatment? Painkillers, Strong antibiotics for five days, a chest X-ray (still waiting to hear about that), and rest. Lots of rest. Follow up appointment in a week's time.

That's when I started bawling - poor doctor, she wasn't expecting that - because I felt so rough, and I knew I would have to let people down. Tonight, I should have been giving a talk to a group from church. Tomorrow, I should have been running a creative writing day for twenty Y6's. And sitting in that doctor's chair, I knew I would have to cancel both.

I know that folk will be understanding...I know I can rearrange...I know I have a responsibility to myself and my family to let myself take the time I need to recover. Even if it's 'just' a lung infection, rather than the 'pneumony'...

But it doesn't stop me hating being ill because I'm restricted in what I can do and am so stupidly tired by the simplest of tasks...

Ah well. Soon be fit as a fiddle again.

I hope.

Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Chri - $%*"$%&*!!!

Things are getting well and truly Christmassy at Maison Squidge. The tree went up last Wednesday, we had flower arranging and carol services and Angel Delight sketches at church, I bought the last of the presents AND I even braved a trip to Morrisons today for the food shop.

(Incidentally - the busiest time of the year for our local store is apparently between 11am and 2pm on the 23rd December. Guess when we were there. *sigh* But I have to say that the spirit of Christmas was alive and well; the lady in the queue behind me kindly helped me to unload my trolley onto the checkout belt so I could whizz to the other end to start packing... Just a small gesture from her, but hugely appreciated on my part.)

The Angel Delight sketch was great fun - although I hold my hands up and admit that I was the only one to fluff their lines. Twice. The sketch was written by a member of our church congregation, Graham, who directs a faith-based theatre group here in Loughborough, called Grain. There were three angels; we had wings. And haloes, even though someone kindly told me afterwards I didn't really need one. I think they were talking about the silver hair, not my angelic demeanour!

Anyway, back to the Christmas Tree, the subject of this Christmas Eve blog.

We always plant the tree in a bucket and keep it well watered. Yesterday morning, I watered it...which might have been the reason why, yesterday evening, just after some friends had arrived for a flying visit, it toppled over! It's happened only once before, when the cat jumped up onto the windowsill behind the tree. This time, no-one touched it. As T put it "The tree has killed some of our baubles!"

We lost three, that's all - glass ones that shattered most spectacularly - and we filled a tray with the bits and pieces that fell off but weren't damaged.

Between us, we made sure the tree was secure and started to redecorate...only to have the flippin' thing tip again! Fortunately I was in the room and near it, so it didn't go very far, but Mr Squidge rushed in and sorted it all out. There's no way it's going to fall over again; we are probably the only household whose tree has indoor guy ropes attached to a bottle jack and is braced with a huge block of wood...

It's a pain when things like this happen - we want Christmas to be perfect in every respect, but it hardly ever achieves that because we live in a broken world and we are human.

Even the very first Christmas was far from perfect.

Four of the decorations I had to replace after the tree-falling incident were felt stars I'd made last year...and they sum up perfectly what I find in my Christian faith which helps me to deal with whatever life throws my way, whether it's something relatively minor in the scheme of things like a few broken decorations, or something more life changing, like a bereavement.

They also represent my wish for you - the readers of the Scribbles - too; whatever life may have thrown at you and yours in recent times, may you find Love, Joy, Hope and Peace during this festive season and into 2016.

With love, from Squidge xxx

When things don't feel good any more...

I haven't blogged much recently. Things - generally - have stalled on the writing front.

It's not that I don't want to get on with projects or post blogs - far from it! But there are several things on the writing front that are out of my hands at the moment and I'm playing the waiting game. Which seems to be sapping my writing energy, big time.

It's affected King Stone pretty badly. As you know, I'm working through the first draft, editing and filling it out. I was blasting along quite merrily, getting a chapter done a day, and then...

The pace slowed. It felt like I was wading through treacle and - I admit - I let it get the better of me. Combined with the things that are out of my hands, everything simply...stopped.

Talking sternly to myself didn't help. I mean, I'm not going to move forward if I allow myself a 'meh' moment...or day...or week, as it finally ended up being. I was getting crosser and more frustrated by the day.

Plus it's coming up to York and the Writer's Workshop Festival of Writing. For some reason, I don't feel excited about it this year. I only entered one competition (which I stand no chance of getting picked for, but hey, it was the only one I had something I could submit); I couldn't bear the thought of not being picked for anything.

(Fellow authors will recognise this syndrome - hoping like mad that this year will be your year in the competitions, followed by crushing disappointment and horrid jealousy when it proves not to be.)

I know it'll be great once I'm in York - I'm booked into some fab workshops, have 1-2-1's with two wonderful book doctors and I'll meet lots of Cloudies, but it doesn't seem to hold quite the same magic when the writing's not going well. (As usual, blogs will follow... I'm taking the laptop with me this year, so you might even get a couple over the course of the weekend itself.)

Having said that, in literally the last couple of days, things have begun moving again - on King Stone at least. I was bemoaning to an author friend how I could not get past a scene.

"Could be your character doesn't want to go where you're sending her?" she said.

"Hmm...could be. She certainly doesn't want to go to bed!" says I.

"My character sometimes she doesn't want to do something, so I ask her what she wants to do instead. I write a scene talking to her and she usually comes up with something better. And yes, it sounds crazy, but it works for me!"

So I tried it. It does sound mad, (feels it, too, the first time you try it!) but somehow your subconscious kicks in and supplies the answer your gut was trying to provide all along. I asked my character why she wouldn't go to bed after a traumatic experience, and she told me EXACTLY why she couldn't afford to sleep - she had to keep travelling to stay one step ahead of the baddie! Since then, I've rewritten a large chunk of the chapter and only need to add a short section at the end before signing it off as official second draft material.

This post isn't all doom and gloom then. Thank goodness! I shall just have to be patient with respect to the other projects - and trust that they'll start moving again at the right time...

Inspiration

Most authors will have several sources of inspiration.

I'm not talking about story inspiration here - the 'where do you get your ideas from' that pops up in every Q&A session I've ever experienced. I'm talking about people.

For me, there are other authors. For example; the late, great Sir Terry Pratchett; the more recently discovered Mark Lawrence; my friend, Jody Klaire. They're not inspiring simply because they write great books which I love reading. It's the people behind the books who inspire me, particularly their struggles against what life throws at them. They amaze me with their determination, their positive approach to life and their sheer joy in the creation of stories. And they are only three of many others I could've named...

Then there are the Cloudies. If you're a regular reader of the Scribbles, you'll know I'm a member of the Word Cloud, an on-line writers' community. Over the last few years, I have made many friends there. I looked back over some of my earlier blogs recently; one was written after the agent I had at the time let me go and I received a particularly harsh rejection for a manuscript, while at the same time several other cloudies were posting the fabulous news that they'd signed contracts. The cloudies were 'a cloud under my feet' at that time, lifting me up and helping me through the self-doubt and depression that inevitably followed, encouraging and cheering me on. They've also since celebrated good news with me, and many of them are more special to me than I can probably ever explain. It makes the Cloud community a unique place.

Last night, I got to personally thank someone else who'd inspired me.

Probably three years ago, while working as a learning support assistant at school, I was privileged to sit in on a visit by the author Andrew Cope. Now for those who don't know, he's the author of the 'Spy Dog' series, a happiness expert and is studying for a PhD at the university in Loughborough.

During that visit, I got chatting to him about my writing, and told him about the novel I'd written which hadn't been picked up by publishers. He told me not to give up - and in line with the talk he gave the children that day, I set myself some achievable goals.

Things didn't work out quite the way I'd hoped or planned on the writing front after that; I had some short stories published (for charity), the first novel was rejected by publishers, I wrote another, lost my agent, got despondent...

But then I stopped work, focused on writing. As a result Granny Rainbow was published, several other short stories were published (still pretty much free as the anthologies haven't sold in huge numbers, but hey, my name's out there!) I revisited StarMark and rewrote large portions of it, sent it to a publisher, published More Granny Rainbow...and then signed a contract for StarMark!

Things have been looking pretty good - but what's that really got to do with Andy?

Well, last night was the Awards Evening for my children's school and Andy was the guest speaker. Mr Squidge, J and I were invited as T had won an award.

After almost clapping my hands off for everyone who won something (T rocked the audience with Rock Club - they play a mean cover of Muse - and walked away with a musicianship award and one for outstanding contribution to the drama performance *proud mum*), Andy spoke about happiness.

Happiness is a lie. It's not a goal you reach - you won't finally grasp it when you get good grades, meet the perfect partner, get that dream job, etc etc. Instead, it lies within each of us and it's got a lot to do with gratitude. As Mr Squidge put it later, it's about finding the silver lining, however big the cloud. Smile at people, say hello, choose to be happy. As an aside, did you know that a hug only counts (ie has benefits to the hugger and huggee) if it lasts for seven seconds? Though Andy advised us not to count one elephant, two elephants etc as that can make it seem weird...

Anyway, at the end of the evening, I caught up with Andy. I explained I'd seen him a few years ago; he remembered talking about the novel and asked where I was up to with it. When I told him that StarMark was due to be published and that it was partly due to what I'd heard him say way back when, because that's when I decided to give up work and focus on the writing, he seemed super-chuffed.

It's not often you get to thank your inspirations personally, but I hope that, in a few years time, some of the students who listened to Andy last night can go back to him and tell him what he inspired them to achieve too.

Book covers - not as simple as you think

You know Granny Rainbow was published last year? And this year, More Granny Rainbow was published too? (You can read all about them here.)

Well, I think I've done something that isn't helping sales - and for anyone about to embark on publishing a second book on a similar theme, or a sequel, well, take note. It might help you to learn from my mistake.

Yesterday, I went to Mountfest, a school summer fair. Here's the stall I set up:

I took both books with me, as I know a lot of parents at the school had bought the first book and their children had loved it; I was hoping they'd buy number two. And of course there are always new folk to introduce Granny to... I also took a game with me, based on one of the new stories (Granny Rainbow and the Froggy Fiasco) as I find a game is a good way to get people to come over to your stall in the first place; then you can strike up a conversation if they eye up the books.

However, at this event, the first few folk who came over glanced at the books and said 'Oh, Granny Rainbow? We've got that one.' And walked away.

Now - I had a grand plan when I decided what the cover of More Granny (MGR) would look like. Like all the best series fiction in bookshops, it would be similar enough to the first book for folks to recognise it as 'belonging' to it whilst being subtly different and unique in its own right. That's why I kept the lovely rainbow striped background, central portrait idea and the typeface Imran used on the original.

However - put both books side by side on a table, AND THEY ARE TOO MUCH ALIKE! I had to start saying 'Oh, you've got the first book? This is a different one, with seven brand new stories!' Or 'Yes, I've written a second book about Granny and Old Tom.'





To me, the differences are obvious. The title and author/illustrator names have been switched, Granny's portraits are different, but the overall impression - that quick first glance - just registers 'Granny Rainbow', not 'More'.









So. If ever a third book's written (it's in the wings, but as sales of MGR are not that good compared to GR, it may never get published) I shall have to rethink the cover to get over that first-glance-itis; turn the rainbow by ninety degrees maybe, to make it really stand out.

If you're reading this and are at the point of designing your own book covers... Well, the best advice I can give you (on top of what's already out there as good practise!) is to have a look at some series fiction; analyse exactly what makes the book covers look like they belong to a set, whilst maintaining their own uniqueness.

Hope that helps - even if it is too late for my own books...

Moving in roughly the right direction...

A bit of an update on all things writing...

The 100 days of writing challenge.

I'm on 28 days of writing, 6 days missed. The ratio is improving all the time - I'm finding a natural pattern is emerging of 5 or 6 days writing, and one not. But as a technique, it's certainly helping to keep me focused on the WIP.

In terms of what do I record as 'writing', well, I'm still flitting between playing in my notebook and physically typing up the story. Either counts. I'm not really referring back to the notebook much though, which some might see as a bit of a waste of time and effort; why bother writing all that stuff in longhand if you're not going to use it?

But I AM using it. The process means I have images and phrases and scenes that are now quite firmly cemented in my head. So what if they don't come out on the computer ('proper') version word-for-word? In those 28 days I've managed to get four chapters pretty well drafted, though they are rough and will need editing of course.

Be interesting to see how I can continue to write this weekend, as we have family staying with us. I may have to sneak off for half an hour a day to get my WIP-fix...

StarMark. 

We are now officially in that 'author-must-be-patient-before-everything-happens-at-once' stage. I do know that there are discussions being had round about now on the subject of blurb and covers, so I hope to have some news to share with you soon.

It's all very exciting, but there's still a little bit of me that's thinking, 'is it really going to happen?' I know it is, of course, but it's a very different process to organising the publishing yourself, like I have with the two Granny Rainbow books. Speaking of which...

More Granny Rainbow.

Authors; don't let anyone tell you the second book is easier and will be a success because you did well with the first and got good feedback; sales of More Granny Rainbow are disappointingly slow at the moment.

Now I'm not one who relies on sales numbers to get a measure of any 'success' - but I had hoped that people who enjoyed the first book would be pleased to see the publication of a second. And then buy it. Either my publicity's not working so well, or there's just no interest in a second.

We shall see. Maybe this time sales are going to be slow and steady?

I'm not going to worry about it too much. I've plenty to do, especially trying to write the WIP while sitting on my hands waiting for StarMark! Onwards and upwards...

New Project Blues...

*sings* 'I got the neeeww pro-ject bluuues' *blows mournfully on a harmonica*

It's a long time since I started a new, big, writing project; probably four years or more. That's when StarMark and Rurik were really rough versions of their current forms.

But with Rurik now on the editing trail, StarMark due for publication later this year and More Granny Rainbow due for launch next week, that means I can get on with starting something fresh and new. I've got some ideas in the pipeline, but have focused recently on Ani's story as my novel project, with something for another RASSSA anthology and a collection inspired by a couple of Word Cloud competitions on the side.

Ani's story. I think it has great potential, but it keeps getting so far and stalling. 

Because I'd forgotten just how hard it is to start from scratch on a longer project; I ended up feeling quite down about it.

After an email chat with a fellow writer (you know who you are!), I realised that Ani's story was stalling because the theme I wanted to portray is too close at the moment to something I'm struggling with in real life. My friend also told me - very wisely - that this story will be written at the right time if t's meant to be, but perhaps now is not the right time. As a result, Ani went on the backburner.

Instead, I looked at Puzzle Piece. I reckon there's a fascinating story to be told after that starting scene, so I gave it a go. In three days, I wrote three chapters. 

And stalled. Again. Why? It was getting too complicated, too quickly.

I've often said that I have problems when I can't 'see' the complete story. StarMark began life as a definite idea - I could see Irvana and I could see where she started and where she would end up. I didn't plan everything out in detail before I wrote it, but I could see the stepping stones to get Irvana from A to B. Whereas with both Ani and my first attempt at Puzzle Piece, I don't seem to have any stepping stones at all - just a yawning chasm between two steep banks.

What I've written for both, I'm unsatisfied with. I know I'm supposed to allow myself that s****y first draft, but seeing myself write rubbish in this first instance is frustrating the heck out of me. I can't sustain the distinctive voice of Puzzle Piece. I can't figure out the motivation for certain actions Ani takes. I can't see the woods for the trees...

So what do I do?

I could fall back to writing short stories again, but that's not helping me to practise the complexity of a novel storyline. Or I could plough on with one of the novel ideas, getting more and more frustrated because neither is turning out how I want it to.

It all feels terribly daunting at the moment. I am writing literally pages and pages of words each day - scenes, conversations, twists and turns - but with no real idea of how it is all going to hang together. Or if it will really become something worthy of calling a novel.

And I keep asking myself 'How the heck did I do it before?'

I have resigned myself to simply playing at the moment - exploring the world of Puzzle Piece and capturing random scenes with a view to seeing what they add up to eventually. I have pledged with a couple of other writing buddies to write something every day for 100 days, so I'll have plenty more words by the end of that time.

They just might not make much sense...

Deleting Problems...

So, for the first time, I've decided to delete a blog post. If you've been following the Scribbles for a while, you might remember it - all about the baubles I was knitting before Christmas.

For some reason, this post has attracted a heck of a lot of spam interest. About shoes.

I have no idea why.

Was it the title that triggered something? ('A Strange Addiction' - later changed to 'A Strange Compulsion')

Was there something embedded in it that created spambots to select it? If so, I have no idea what or how, because I'm not teccy enough to work that out.

Was I just unlucky?

Either way, it's that post that led me to (unwillingly) add a filter to the comments, to avoid the plague of spam comments that was clogging up my inbox.

Thing is, it doesn't seem to have made a difference to how many times the spambots are trying to hit the post. As a result, I've seen my hit-rate climb, but it leaves me with a sense of frustration because the hits aren't genuine. I would rather have tens of hits a day of genuine readers than apparently high numbers generated by a machine. The Scribbles is not about number-crunching - never has been. It's about engaging with you, the reader.

Hence the blog post has been deleted. I've kept a copy of it, but you won't be able to see it any more.

Whether it's enough to stop the robots, I've no idea. They might just pick on another post instead...but I'll deal with that when - if? - it happens.

When a story just won't work

Been working on a story for the next book of Granny Rainbow stories - had the title all sorted: Granny Rainbow and the Pear Tree Pirate.

I had the broad outline, in terms of where the story was going to be set, the problem Granny faced and how she would solve it. Fabuloso!

What I can't work out is how to realistically get my secondary character into a position where he does what he's supposed to, thanks to Granny's intervention. Try as I might, it just doesn't sound...believable. Now, those of you who've read GR will probably say that the premise of some of the first stories were somewhat wacky and wouldn't happen in real life anyway. But they were written in such a way that the solution didn't come out of the blue and have you and your little ones saying 'well, that's just not going to happen!'

So at the moment I'm stumped. I have six stories, but need a longer seventh to match the format of the first book. I have no idea what to write! I wondered whether to have another Black Shadow story...what dastardly way could he use to capture colour next? But you'd see colour disappearing again and know who was responsible straightaway. There'd be no surprise element.

It all feels a bit up in the air...and a bit disappointing because I love the title of the Pear Tree Pirate but it doesn't seem to want to work with the story I thought I was going to write. Never mind. I'll keep thinking...something will crop up.

At the same time, I can't help thinking thank goodness for the competition I held to find ideas for the blue and yellow stories, or I'd be even more stuck. Incidentally, I shall be announcing the winner, as promised, on the 1st September, so do pop back then to see whose idea will be written up. It's going to be a corker!

Maybe Professor Funkelburger's next invention will have to be a Story Ideas Machine...'for all ze very gut stories to be written, ja?'

Turkey tales

We didn't have turkey on Christmas Day. We had ours on Saturday last, when Mr. Squidge's side of the family came on their festive visit.

Unfortunately, we had a few problems with the bird.

To begin with, we had to leave it chilling in the garage 'til the last minute; our cat, in the past, has scratched the plastic wrapping off and left claw/teeth marks in the meat. Although the bird wasn't exactly at room temp before it went into the oven, cooking officially started at 9am.

By 12.30, I knew we had a problem; the bird was not cooking.

As a result, the three-and-a-half hour planned cooking time (as determined by St. Delia - and she stuffs her bird, we don't) dragged on into four hours and the juices were still running pink. Dinner - to have been served at 1pm - was looking like it needed a lot longer...

We finally sat down to eat at 2pm, and I'm pleased to say the turkey was perfect. My stress levels, however, had gone through the roof.

Having waved all our guests off last night and straightened the house this morning, I stripped the carcass (there's something rather satisfying about that job - perhaps it's my caveman roots) ready for turkey curry tonight and probably turkey stew tomorrow and turkey salad after that... Mr Squidge did buy a big bird.

By the time the last mouthful of turkey has been consumed, we'll be into a new year. I won't be making any resolutions - other than to avoid turkey for a while. But I will take the turkey lesson on board; that the things we want to achieve often take a lot longer than we think.

And they still turn out right.

So, there's hope for my stories yet...

A shortage of stories

I'm part of the short stories group run by Vanessa Wester, which produces collections of short stories on a variety of themes in aid of charity. There have been four so far (have a look here for details of the three I'm in) and the most popular one to date is, I believe, Reading is Magic, written for children.

We'd like to produce another collection for children; our current theme is 'past, present and future', so there's plenty of opportunity for time travellers and historical figures, ghosts of the past and robots of the future...

Only problem is - we don't have enough stories.

We currently have four - we reckon we need at least eight to make it a viable project. Last time, we had a baker's dozen...

So do you write for children? Could you offer a story to support a good cause? If you are interested, please consider joining us. We can provide some limited help with editing - though we are not professionals - and all we expect in return (if your story is chosen for publication) is that you help to promote both the finished book and the charity it supports. Please note that not all the stories we are offered will be suitable for inclusion, but we do try to use as many as we are able. It's a good way to get your name and work in print - and helps others as a bonus.

If you want to find out more, please take a look at the short story group page and if you have a story (or two) you'd like to offer, mail Vanessa directly.

Alternatively, drop me a line via the comments here if you have questions that aren't answered on the site.

Thank you,

Katherine x