A little bit of...poetry?

I'm not known for my poetry. I have written poems, but they tend to be ones that rhyme because I find it relatively easy to write to a rhythm, but I've never really understood or appreciated haikus or sonnets or other formal poetic forms.

That said, I do occasionally dabble. 

The first time I was published, I'd won a limerick competition (and £50!) in a writing magazine. It went something like...

A young lady who felt fashion keenly

Tried on a new-fangled bikini

With two bits of string, 

Some knots and a ring

The thing would've baffled Houdini! 

I did write some poetry - actually, it's probably more accurate to say I wrote rhymes - in one of my Granny Rainbow stories about the Poetic Postman. And I've sometimes put new words to familiar hymn tunes for Christmas services. But I don't write much 'proper' poetry - the stuff that is deep and meaningful, that makes a connection with the listener. 

But you might remember in my last post that I said I'd decided to try a bit more poetry after attending a poetry session at the online Writing East Midlands Conference. Well, last weekend, I got the opportunity. I attended States of Independence Day Online, an event usually held at De Montfort University in Leicester, where independent publishers, authors and booksellers get together. (The last time I went, I met an agent who took me on for a short while, having seen StarMark) The programme was a mix of live discussion panels on Zoom, and pre-recorded readings and workshops on YouTube. 

One of the workshops was by Maria Taylor, a poet who also happens to be a neighbour of mine. She gave three very different writing prompts and read some of her own poetry to show how the themes  of 'routine', 'ghosts' and 'the great outdoors' could be interpreted. 

So I had a go. 

Here's the one I was most proud of - which I wrote it out and pushed it through Maria's door to say thank you for such a great session.

Homemade wine

As I drink my homemade fruit wines - 

the blood red-black of mighty fine blackberry,

the rosy tint of red gooseberry, 

the dryness of next-door's plum, 

the sharpness of raspberry -

you are with me in every sip.

Your wines were pea-pod white, carrot, and parsnip,

tastes I never got to sample before you went,

because of my age.

I could only watch the bottles being taken

     from the darkness of an under-stairs cupboard,

to be opened by grieving uncles,

who raised a toast

to the maker of the vintages 

who was beyond drinking them by then.

Feathered Friends

Just outside my lounge window, I have a very old winter jasmine bush growing against the kitchen wall. It's dense, about a foot to eighteen inches thick, and this year - I have a robin nesting in it!

We've tried to catch some of her activity on our birdcam, but for some reason we can't seem to capture the robin as she (apparently only the females build the nests) dives in and out of the bush, about two feet away from the window. 

It's been brilliant to watch; she started off with beakfuls of leaves, and over the last two days we've seen her switch to moss, and now she's found either some hair or very fine grass. She approaches the bush along the fence, gets to a certain point, and watches for a while. Presumably to make sure no-one's nearby. Then she darts into a slightly more open bit of the jasmine, where I can see her hopping along the branches to the nest. Then out pops a little red head and chest, she has a quick look round, and then she drops to the floor and flies off to the nearby buddleia. 

One thing I noticed is that she seems to spend a fair bit of time gathering, but doesn't appear to work the material she gathers into the nest at that point; it's almost as though, having gathered the moss or hair, she chucks it into the nest to sort out later! Perhaps she gathers it while she finds it, then sets about making it part of the nest proper when she's gathered enough to work with?

I've also seen her mate feeding her - something I never realised happened until I caught him offering her what looked like a green caterpillar this morning. I had to look it up, because I couldn't understand why an adult bird, that I knew was nest-building, would need feeding. 

Looking forward very much to watching what happens from here on in...and maybe, just maybe, getting a few pictures if we're very, very lucky. 

In the meantime, here's some dodgy phonecam footage instead... (excuse my washing hanging on the line behind!)

Mr Squidge's New Toy

 Last October, our cat, Timmy, died. 

Since then, we've noticed rather more birds in the garden, and I've strung feeders round the garden and put out mealworms and seeds regularly. We also put up a couple of bird boxes on the wall of the tree house.

So far, we've seen an overwintering blackcap (male); a pair of grey wagtails (which are actually mostly yellow); a pair of wrens; several robins; blue tits; coal tits; sparrows; great tits; blackbirds; and the ever-present pigeon.

Our visiting male blackcap, on birdcam

The blackcap seems to be camera shy, always choosing to ground feed when the camera's aimed at the bird table or table-feeding when the camera's aimed at the ground feeders. We were just lucky with the photo above...

There seemed to be lots of blue tit activity around the bird boxes - they seem to like one more than the other, perhaps because it's a natural log-fronted one, and the birds will poke their heads inside the hole, checking out whether or not this des-res will be what they need this spring. 

Mr Squidge rather enjoys watching them. So much so, he bought himself a birdcam. Not one that goes inside the birdbox, but a motion-activated trail cam. As a result, we now have several locations around the garden where poles have appeared as camera mounts, and regular 'what's on the camera?' sessions where we see what - if anything - we've caught on film.

One thing we noticed from the videos and still pictures is that the robins are distinctly different in appearance. One has a white patch to the left of his/her red chest, the other has a white patch to the right. A third has a white patch on their wing.  The lilac tree station is preferred by the flock of sparrows which roost in next-door's holly tree, but can only be filmed on a still day. 

Anyway, here for your enjoyment, a couple of clips from the bird table... I may well become a Twitcher in time...

I used to think blue tits only ate from feeders

Mr 'White patch on the right' Robin
 

And so it ends... So long, 2020.

 2020.

The year no-one expected. The year where the only certainty was uncertainty. 

We've been fortunate, Chez Squidge. Of course life has been different. We've had disappointments over scuppered plans, had to attend funerals online, adapted to restrictions on everyday life like everyone else. Our situation could have been much, much worse.

And because of that, at times, we've felt guilty. Sitting at home while others went out to work in keyworker roles didn't feel...enough...to help make things any better. 

I took to posting (almost) daily positives on facebook - forcing myself at times to look for something good to set against the relentless doom-mongering of the press, the conspiracy theorists, the ill-informed naysayers... 

I discovered Pet Portraits by Hercule; Foil, Arms and Hog's sketches; binged on Battleship Galactica and Bridgerton.

My street developed a stronger sense of community as we all made sure everyone was OK, had a street party for VE Day, put up Advent windows, and sang carols.

We discovered the joy of growing food, watching the birds, spending time without rushing from one  thing to another because we were forced to stop and take stock.

I knitted socks. Over thirty pairs of them. And taught someone else to knit them too. I also knitted 45 stars to hang on my fence in the run up to Christmas for people to take - and they did.

I wrote a creative writing book, launched the second of Tilda's adventures and finished writing her third. I helped to edit a friend's anthology of short stories. 

There's other stuff too - like a short holiday to Wales in October, family homemade pizza Fridays, making musical pipes... 

In one way, there's life BC and there's life AC. But we haven't got to the AC yet. We're in a strange period of inbetween-ness, where the virus is still here, still impacting dreadfully on life, and we're not yet seeing the benefit of the vaccines (which are nothing short of miraculous, given the time scale in which they've been developed) although my dad has had the call to get his next week...

2021 is fast approaching. There'll be no resolutions from me, only the steely determination to get through this awfulness by being kind to myself so that I can reach a point where I can hug my parents and distant family members again, and life returns to something approaching what it used to be.

I don't know what kind of 2020 you had. I hope that you got through it, whatever it threw at you, and that you're able to face the new year with at least some hope in your heart, and raise a glass tonight to better times. 

Fenced off

 Mr Squidge and I were hard at work the other week, replacing the fence in part of our garden. 

The fence was put up about seventeen, eighteen years ago, so it's lasted fairly well. It did have a few adventures though...

The gentleman who used to live next door used to be very much a DIY kind of person, so there were a lot of assorted pipes and slabs and bricks in his garden, often leaning or fallen against the fence. So various bits got a bit...broken. 

Elsewhere, the fence had a bit of an incident with a couple of policemen; Mr Squidge recounts the tale of how, one afternoon, several polica cars pulled up in the street, and the officers were moving up and down the road and trying to look over gates in driveways. Realising they needed to get into the back gardens somehow, Mr Squidge let them into ours, and the officers had a bit of a Hot Fuzz moment, and leapt over the fence. It never fully recovered.

Then there was the badger. There are several badger setts near us - some on nearby allotments, the others disturbed after houses were built on what used to be the cricket pitch. Badgers aren't stopped by fences...they just...push. (Mr Squidge did his best to barricade them out with old slabs, roofing tiles and railway sleepers, but the damage had been done.)

So yeah, we needed a new fence. Thanks goodness none of the posts had rotted - they were still really sound.

After discussion with our new neighbours - and a lot of skip-filling on their part, bless 'em! - we bought replacement panels and trellis to put on the top.

The old panels came out easy enough, but then we had to dig up all the brambles growing along the fence line, and cut back overhanging branches etc. The first few panels went in easy enough - I stood one end, Mr Squidge the other, and we hammered them down into position. Fab.

Only problem was, we made the mistake of starting at one end of the garden, then moved to the opposite end to fit a panel that needed to be cut down, leaving a gap in the middle. And of course it had to be that the last panel we fitted needed to be cut down - on both ends - to make it fit the gap. 

We got it done though. Took us the best part of two dry days. We filled two builder's bags with brambles and branches, plus two trugs, a compost bag and a bucket with weeds. 

It looks fab. 

And we've even left what we're calling a 'wildlife gap' underneath it. 

*wink wink, could've hammered it down further but didn't*

Now all that's left is to fill in the empty spaces in the border with bedding plants the rest of my family gave me earlier in the year...

Good and Bad News

So in spite of my best laid plans, I haven't blogged for well over a month. I have my reasons...

The bad news is that our cat, Timmy, passed away. Unfortunately he was diagnosed with FIV, or Feline Immunodeficiency Virus, when suffering from a nasty infection due to infected gums. (This can be one of the symptoms of FIV, and knowing that he's always been a cat prone to teeth and gum issues, Timmy was probably infected quite a few years ago, but neither we or the vet suspected it.)

The vet advised pulling Timmy's remaining teeth because they were in such a bad state (he'd had some removed a few years ago) and hoped that with sufficient antibiotics, we could get him over the infection, ease the pain his teeth had been causing him, and he'd be fine. 

However, the infection was too severe, and in spite of the best endeavours of our vet, Timmy didn't have the immune system to fight it. We buried him in the garden, under the golden rod that he used to love sleeping in when the weather was hot. Of course we're sad, but we know he's not suffering any more.  

There are several bits of good news to counterbalance the bad though.

The first is that Mr Squidge and I managed a few days away in North Wales. I spent many of my childhood holidays there, so it was a real trip down memory lane. The house we'd booked had patio windows overlooking Snowdon, and it was wonderful to see the Weather (Welsh weather deserves a capital 'W'!) sweeping in from the sea and over the mountains, sometimes blocking them completely from view. Add to that same view Ffestiniog steam trains crossing the causeway at Portmadog and the tidal estuary, and we were set. I made the sand squeak and had a paddle at Porthor; walked across the headland to Porth Dinllaen and the Ty Coch pub; picked stones off the beach at Llanbedrog; wandered round Portmeirion for the first hour with barely anyone else there, and had takeaway from Borth-y-Gest nearly every night.

It made me realise that, not having had a holiday for the last three years, I was pretty fed up with my own four walls, and really needed a change of scene. 

A few pics of our time away...

The wonderfully magical Portmeirion

That peak, right in the middle? Snowdon. It was in sunshine on one occasion.

Porthor...or Whistling Sands. Complete with windbreak!

Porth Dinllaen, and the queue for drinks at the Ty Coch beginning to build...

The view from the end of Nefyn Golf Course. 

TRAIN!!

A gorgeous evening walk around Borth-y-Gest, with painted clouds

We took Sparky, and apart from a few miles on the motorway, did everything by electric. 

This charging post is at the Caenarfon Morrisons, but we were also able to charge - for free - 

at National Trust car parks several times. 

The other bit of good news is that I have signed not one, but TWO book contracts with Bink! One is for Tilda #3, which is going to be Tilda and the Tombs of Kradlock. The other is for my little - although it seems to have grown, rather - non-fiction project, but I'll blog about that separately. 

At least you'll be able to follow the next stage in Tilda's journey, probably sometime next year. Something to look forward to, in light of the year 2020's turned out to be and shows no sign of letting up...

I live in hope. And writing!

Catching up...

 Goodness - HOW long since I wrote a blog post?! 

Well, here's one just to bring you up to speed on what's been happening since the middle of July...JULY!! And we're now in September. Blimey.

First off, I hope that wherever you are when you're reading this, that you are still safe and well, and coping with these strange times and any restrictions you may currently have imposed upon you and yours. Life seems to consist of wash hands, wear a mask, keep your distance! And its all very samey as one day blurs into another. 

But we're still here, and there have been some exciting things happening since you last dropped by...

Tilda and the Mines of Pergatt was launched, the competition was won, and at some point (Californian wildfires permitting) there will be a video compilation taken from the launch for me to share with you.

We've discovered some printing issues with Tilda and the Mines of Pergatt - I discovered several copies with pages missing, pages cut short, and even shifting text... If you had a print copy and you have any issues with it, please do let me know. 

Tilda #3 has been delivered to Bink. They like it, I've got a couple of kinks to iron out, but nothing humungous. No idea when it's likely to be published - I'd guess middle of next year at the earliest.

I've begun a non-fiction project, and am slowly working my way through it. Problem is, there's so much stuff I could include, it's hard to know where to stop! I'm working little and often on that one as the story begins to settle in my head.

I've NOT begun to work seriously on Tilda #4 yet, mainly because of the non-fiction project, but also because I have been doing some paid editing work for a friend I reconnected with recently. I won't say too much at this stage, but I am very excited to be working on a collection of steampunk short stories he's putting together. I have to say I wasn't sure about being paid for the editing to begin with, but the more stories I've worked on with M, the more my confidence has grown. It's a bit like when I started doing author visits - I daren't charge because I didn't have the experience, but I need time to prove to myself that what I can offer has value and is worth paying for. It helps that he writes well and between us, we've knocked the collection into very, VERY good shape.

I am hoping to attend a couple of book fairs later this month...although the UK has today introduced a legal limit on social gatherings of no more than six people, and I've no idea how that will affect the planned events. 

What else? Squidgeling T has gone back to his new house in Manchester ready for a new uni year, while Squidgeling J goes back to Bristol later this month. Have to admit I am nervous, as both Squidgelings are in the age range most affected by coronavirus infections at the moment. In other family news, my Dad celebrated his 80th birthday with a socially distanced weekend of visits from various family members - and had three cakes, one to celebrate with each of his children's families. Not quite what we'd originally planned for him, but still a lovely occasion.  

And that's about it for the moment. I promise it won't be as long before I post my next blog!! Although something more exciting has got to happen for me to write about, first...

Coming out the other side of covid-19

So after almost 8 weeks of lockdown, the UK is beginning to open up.

There are very different views on this, as you might imagine. Some want things to happen quicker, to get the economy going again. Others are saying it's happening too fast, considering how many people have already died and combined with the fact that the all-important R rate is so close to 1, it will take very little to allow the virus to take hold again.

My own personal view is that as a country, we should have acted firmer, quicker. We should have continued testing and tracing in the early stages. We should have taken notice of predictions years ago that a pandemic was bound to happen sooner or later, and we should have been better prepared for it when it came.

However, hindsight's a wonderful thing.

Suffice to say that Family Squidge are very much still staying at home at the moment to see what happens in three weeks time... We have been bereaved once because of Covid-19, and we don't wish to experience any more losses.

So how are we coping?

We've settled into a routine of slow starts and late nights. As the Squidgelings continue to complete uni assignments and revise for exams, we tend to do our own separate things during the day and come together every evening for dinner. The highlight of the week is pizza night - often on a Friday - when Mr Squidge makes the dough and we all choose our own toppings. It's better than any takeaway!

I'm still posting daily positives on facebook so that even on the toughest of days - when I have no motivation or feel I've not achieved anything - I can look on the day and find something good. There's only been one day when I really couldn't find anything positive, and in posting that very fact I found it; the kindness and care of friends.

I'm still struggling to write. This is partly due to increased interruptions from the family, but mainly because I can't seem to concentrate. My brain seems to want to flit from one thing to another, which means that I have knitting, colouring, writing, quilting, and embroidery projects on the go at the moment. I'm plugging away a little at a time when I do have the brainpower and focus. I've been doing some critique for a couple of friends though - somehow finding things to improve is a lot easier in someone else's work than in my own at the moment!

Church is problematic. I've had times in my life when I've felt far from God - the advice is usually 'pray harder!' At the minute I feel as though I'm relying on others to pray for me, as I can't find the words. It's not as though there isn't any church at all - I've been astounded and moved by the way the church has mobilised itself to continue to meet the spiritual needs of Christians and the practical needs of people in communities at a time when the physical buildings are closed. My own church has a weekly online service, which is great, but it's not the same. Might never be the same again...

And I think that sums up this point of the pandemic in a nutshell for me. It's a very different life we're living at the moment, and we're nowhere near 'out the other side'. We've perhaps jumped over the first hurdle, and are beginning to adapt, but life will be lived on the edge for some time to come yet.

Photo: New Scientist

Grief

A lot of you will have already seen the post on facebook which said that my father-in-law died last Friday. Thank you to everyone who has sent love and condolences - it's very much appreciated.

As you can imagine, trying to deal with a death in the current crisis under the restrictions is a little harder then it would normally be. Even without the fact that we are 200 miles away from where Mr H died. It's very, very sad. And very, very strange.

If I'm not here very much over the next week or so, that's why.

Be back soon. x

Corona continues...

It's Easter weekend as I write this, and I am sitting in the garden on Easter Saturday, having just done a 45 minute pilates session on the lawn.

It's quiet - no children playing in the garden yet. Someone was mowing the lawn a few minutes ago, and there is some traffic on the main road, but apart from that...birdsong. The crows are cawing at each other. The robin came and sang for a bit on the fence. Dunnocks were twittering in the pear tree as the blossom drifted down in a light breeze. Mummy blackbird landed on the fence about two feet away from me, but decided not to risk it. Blue tits are playing in the apple tree and the pigeon nesting in next door's holly tree came down for a quick strut. The local thrush is singing from some high point - 'rapido', '1,2,3' and 'brie, brie' he seems to sing. There's the lazy buzz of bees in the forget-me-nots underlying the birdsong.

It's already warm, and feels like a holiday. Yet this is not the 'staycation' I would wish for.

I have this strange sense of not doing enough. It doesn't seem right that I'm helping by sitting on my backside at home, doing nothing. Well, I say nothing - I'm knitting, (eleven coronasocks completed) cooking, gardening... There's a strange disparity - a world of difference - between me, staying at home, and the key workers who are going out to work every day, putting themselves at risk to keep things as normal as can be or while looking after the sick and dying.

I hope and pray that, this Easter, you'd be able to find resurrection hope in the middle of this awful time. And that you would stay safe and well until we come out of this on the other side...

Musical mayhem, mid-Corona

The Squidgelings are both rather musical.

Squidgeling J plays violin and recorder very well, but has also dabbled with guitar, mandolin, viola, harp, penny whistle and piano, and is currently teaching herself the melodeon to accompany the Folk Society at their sessions.

Squidgeling T's main instrument is the bass guitar, but he is also pretty proficient on 'normal' guitar, has dabbled in keyboard and played the double bass previously, too.

Being in lockdown - and at home for an Easter holiday that's been indefinitely extended for the foreseeable future - Chateau Squidge has therefore been rather more music-full of late. I've really enjoyed hearing folk tunes from one bedroom and bass lines from another.

However, one unintended consequence of the shutdown and imposed social distancing has been the desire to learn - and manufacture - even more instruments.

Chateau Squidge has been echoing to the sounds of;

1. A homemade low flute, made from a length of pvc pipe using some very detailed instructions.

2. Homemade bagpipes, cobbled together from a bin bag, a straw, the new low flute, a recorder, and plenty of gaffer tape. (If you fancy making some yourself, here are the instructions!)

3. An alto saxophone. Now, Mr Squidge is talented, (he helped make the first two) but not THAT talented. He hired one, as T expressed a desire to learn the sax and this seemed a better way of trying it out than committing to a purchase.

Cat in a (sax) box

By the end of today, J had played recognisable folk tunes on both the low flute AND the bagpipes (the latter was rather short and sweet because there's a knack to keeping the bin bag topped up with air through the straw) and T had managed to work out how to play (a rather ropey version) of 'Happy Birthday' on it - a challenge set by Mr Squidge for T to achieve in time for his birthday at the end of April. (Thank goodness for the garden room - it was definitely easier to listen to the sax from a distance...)

Not sure what tomorrow holds...

Maybe earplugs? 

The Rollercoaster that is COVID-19

Last Wednesday, I felt remarkably upbeat. I was getting creative, and felt like I was coping with the changes we were seeing in society because of Covid-19.

However, things don't feel so rosy any more.

Every day since then has brought new restrictions, new closures, new ways of 'being'. The Squidge family has done their best, but it hasn't been easy... Personally, I've found myself very much more up-and-down. I have experienced an overwhelming mixture of emotions, often in just one day. Here are a few of the strongest.

Fear. Mainly of the unknown - when will we fall ill? How bad will it be? When will UK life be locked down? Will the NHS cope?

Sadness. We have had to deal with the limitations which need to be enforced at church - there's no public worship, and we've seen weddings cancelled and funerals limited.

Gratitude. There are lots of folk doing Good Things for friends and neighbours, or trying to give people access to activities online, or helping to calm and reassure those who are finding things difficult.

Worry. Almost constant, for family and friends who are vulnerable due to age or underlying health issues, or for those close to us who have been classed as key workers and continue to put themselves at risk of infection.

Anger. Directed against people who ignore the restrictions and guidelines which have been put in place to try to protect those who are most vulnerable and who are going to be working hard to protect us.

Disbelief. Life will probably never be the same again. We will always live with B.C and A.C - before Covid-19 and after Covid-19.

Joy. Seeing rainbows in windows, sharing comedy videos with the Squidgelings, taking a (safely distanced from others) walk and seeing signs of spring in my own and other people's gardens.

Panic. Needing to go out for some basic supplies like bread or cereal, and seeing empty shelves or no way of keeping a safe distance from other customers in a crowded store.

One minute I feel calm and content, editing Tilda 3 or colouring in my devotional book or reading or knitting. The next, it all comes crashing in again - the reality of what we are faced with - and I find I can't stop the tears from falling.

So yeah, it doesn't feel like a good place to be at the moment. But as one friend told me, when I posted I was on the verge of a panic attack after a trip to the local Aldi, talking about it all helps and there ARE things I can do to protect my mental health.

For anyone else who's struggling like me at the moment...you are not alone. Isolated, yes, but not alone. Do whatever you need to, to find the light in these dark times. In fact, I shall be lighting a candle in my window at 7pm tonight, to remind myself of the ultimate Light, Jesus.

Look for the light, and call out the darkness so it doesn't get a grip - on you, on your emotions, and on how we face this crisis together.

Love to you all. Stay home and stay safe.

Photo by Marc Ignacio

A Milestone for Tilda 3 - and Car Park Capers

You've heard of A Tale of Two Cities? This is A Blog in Two Halves...

This morning, I finished the first handwritten edit of Tilda 3.

What does that mean, I hear you ask? It means that Tilda 3 has moved from the first s****y draft in a notebook, past the first s****y draft on computer, and is now a paper copy full of multicoloured scribbles. It's still as far from a proper, finished novel as you can get, but my read through has helped me to see where the novel needs expanding, and how the mahoosive climax can be written so it's all Tilda's fault...

It also means that, when I head off to Weobley next week, to spend four days at a Writing Retreat run by two wonderful ex-cloudie friends - Jayne and Moira - I am in a position to either start typing up all the edits to Tilda 3 OR crack on with the first s****y draft on computer of Tilda 4. This fourth adventure for Tilda is going to start in a dark place... and involves Issrayan dragons.

Nuff said.

And the Car Park Capers?

Yesterday, Mr Squidge and I went to Leicester. We don't go often - we're not into big name shopping and we can get most of what we need in the town centre at home, but I had to pick up the new Paschal candle and palm crosses for church from the cathedral shop, and he wanted to visit Nada, a zero waste store. I also had to begin the process of applying for my e-Visa for India (I'm off to Trichy again, mid-April, in case I hadn't already mentioned it), so we planned to drop by Belgrave Gate and a particular travel agent's on the way home.

Anyhow, we checked where we could plug Sparky in to charge while we mooched, and headed off to the car park.

Now, finding the recharging points in any car park is a bit of an art. They are normally on the ground floor, well signposted and have green parking bays. We drove around all three - extensive - floors in the Highcross Rooftop Car Park and couldn't see a single one. Now, we didn't really need to charge - we'd have got home again quite comfortably - but we thought we'd do it anyway, as keeping the battery topped up is better than letting it run low.

We ended up pressing the 'Help' button. "I'll get my colleague to talk to you," the nice lady on the other end of the intercom said. Five minutes later, with no more contact from the disembodied voice, we were about to park up and not bother charging. Then said colleague appeared in person - and directed us from the sunny rooftop, back down onto the first level, to 'the dark new bit.' That didn't sound particularly attractive, as dark bits in car parks aren't very safe, but off we went.

We drove round the roof twice, trying to find the way out (signposting really isn't this car park's strong point - the exit was a very narrow ramp, hidden behind a wall with a teeny tiny sign) and followed the instructions back to the first level. Even there, we couldn't find 'the dark bit'. Then - Alleluia! - a green charge point sign. And another, pointing the way to - yup, The Dark Bit.

Now, the reason for the darkness became apparent as we drove towards the charge pod points. The lights were on motion sensors. So this newer part of the car park was being environmental with reduced lighting for most of the time because - let's face it - all it would've been doing otherwise was shining on empty, stationary vehicles.

We plugged in, and it took a while to download the app to enable charging - different suppliers have different apps you need to sign up to, which results in lots of faff when you start using a new supplier anywhere. I spent the time admiring the artwork... They were very keen to get the environmental message over, weren't they?

After all that, can you believe we didn't get much of a charge? It took so long to download the app, the charge point didn't let us draw any more power because it didn't think we were signed up to it.

But at least we know where we can go in future. And we both got the shopping we needed, had a lovely lunch in The Globe pub, and a mooch around the city centre in the sunshine. On balance, a good day.

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...

The laptop's retiring...

We're not sure how long we've had our laptop for. We guess well over ten years.

The soon-to-be-retired laptop, back in 2013!

It still operates in a fashion - the memory is almost full in spite of us deleting as much as we can, it runs an antiquated Word 2003, and has slow internet access. It's also got some sticky/broken buttons.

To be fair, it doesn't really bother me that much. I've often said I'm a bit of a technophobe, so I stick with what I'm used to. Hence the very old version of Word I use; I want to write, rather than faff about with settings in an unfamiliar programme. And I use the laptop a lot. Mainly because the main computer is difficult to work at because of my varifocals, but also cos the programmes look different to what I'm used to. I'm getting used to them, though...

Which is a good thing, because this Valentine's Day, I didn't get roses or chocolates. I got a new laptop.

Mr Squidge and I have been talking about umm'ing and aah'ing about replacing it for a while, and with me off on a writing retreat in early March to begin Tilda 4, it seemed like a good time to do it; new laptop, new book kind of thing.

Will it help me write any better? Don't know yet - I've got to get to grips with a whole new Word programme first.

Keep your fingers crossed for me - and for Tilda!

Socks

My home town has a historical link to hosiery. Sadly, the factories have closed now, and there's very little hosiery production - if any - left. We do have our 'Sockman' though, a quirky statue in the market place who sits admiring a single sock on his outstretched leg.

I'm doing my bit to keep the hosiery link alive though, as I've had a bit of a binge on the old sock-knitting front recently.

People often say they must be complicated to knit, and I'd have to say that yes, it takes a while to get to grips with creating a sock, but once you've got the knack, it's really quite easy. I have one pattern that I use over and over again - I know exactly how the end result fits my feet - and I've mastered the art of holding the four double ended pins so I don't get in a tangle.

They're an easy project. Portable, quick (I can knit a good half of a plain sock in an evening while watching TV), and rather addictive. There are so many beautiful colourways, they seem to grow really quickly when the wool keeps changing colour. I now have so many pairs of hand knitted socks, I can do a complete wool cycle wash, just for them! They are so much better for my feet - I have had chilblains perhaps twice since I began knitting socks about ten years ago. Previously, it was every single winter... Woollen socks (most are 75% wool) last a lot longer too - I've not thrown any out yet.

Also - complete bonus - they give me thinking time when I'm stuck on my writing.

So, if you're interested, here are a few I've made since the autumn...

The wool for these were all gifts. The centre and right pair are the most beautiful merino wool, so very silky to wear, and hand-dyed. The rainbow striped ones have a very thin silver lurex thread, which makes them sparkle. 

All of these have lurex thread in, too. The blue-purple I knitted for my mum for Christmas; had to undo the toes and take them back a little, as I'd guessed the size slightly wrong! But that's the beauty of these socks - they take very little effort to make them fit correctly. The red-green, I knitted for Squidgeling J, also for Christmas. The final ball is a purple-grey-pale lime mix that I'm going to knit for myself at some point. Have decided you can't beat sparkly toes...

I've only knitted one purple sock so far - that wool was a pressie at Christmas. The West Yorkshire Spinners random green was picked up on the way to Bristol; we have to stop to plug Sparky in to get us all the way there, and there's a shopping outlet with a charger AND a super little wool and yarn shop. So each time we've stopped there, I've been tempted by new colours and have succumbed to a ball. Or two. I liked the fact that in the case of WYS, I'm supporting the British wool industry as well - not many places hereabouts stock this particular brand. 

Now these have a story behind them; I was asked whether I'd be willing to make a couple of pairs for someone. She preferred handmade socks but was unable to source them from the family member who used to knit them for her. And - this shocked me SO much - she'd have to pay around £20 a pair if purchasing via Etsy. Seriously - £20 a pair! (Mind you, if the wool costs around £8 a ball minimum, it doesn't give the knitter much per hour of knitting...) I said yes, checked her shoe size and knitted up a pair of odds-and-sods fairly quickly. Forgot to take a pic of those, but she loved them, they fitted - hooray! - and I agreed to knit up two more pairs from wool she'd already bought. They're the ones in this pic. (The blue-grey ones are cabled, but shhhh, don't tell her! She's not picked them up yet.) 

Before you ask, no, I'm not going to make a habit of knitting socks for other people!! For a start, most people's feet are bigger than mine, so it takes longer. Secondly, if I'm knitting, I can't write. And thirdly, my fingers can get quite stiff if I do too much in a period of time (like two pairs in a week). 

I enjoy knitting socks, but I'm going to have to ration buying the wool. I have a bagful of leftovers - I could probably keep myself in odds-and-sods socks for the next ten years, without adding any extra colours. 

See what I mean? I did use some of the stash to knit little stars to use as decorations on my brown-paper-wrapped Christmas gifts this year, but it's not made much of an impression on the pile. 

Maybe I can allow myself to buy one ball a year? Oh, and if I'm bought a ball, I won't refuse it! 

Quilting capers

Apologies to Quorn Country Crafts, but this is very late getting written up!

I went to a quilting exhibition a couple of weekends ago, organised as a charity event by QCC in East Leake. You may remember I'd been before, when the shop was still in Loughborough. This time it was held in a school hall.

To give you an idea of the size of some of the quilts

Many were for sale

It's always good to see quilts others have designed and sewn, as they give you all sorts of inspiration for future projects. This time, I think there were more 'picture' quilts than ones focusing on mixes of colours, which just goes to show how trends and fashions change. Especially when it comes to the use of machined details and applique.

Here are some of my favourites from the day...

Lovely overlapping squares in monochrome

Another optical illusion - love these colours

I loved the lime green with the aqua

Some needlefelting too...

3D butterflies and a fabulous elephant

Twelve months in applique

A thought provoking message with this one

A fleecy quilt, rather than the usual cotton

Loved how the strips framed the central panel

I've never mastered circles...

More fun applique

Lots of machine-stitched applique and embroidery in the panels

Loved these colours

Lots of machined lace as embellishment

Completely hand-stitched...

...and a lovely pattern

My absolute favourite though, was a quilt made entirely out of denim, and slow-stitched, Japanese style. It was such an obvious labour of love, with hours of work going into all the hand stitched details and decorations. It didn't have straight seams, because the denim and indigo fabrics were pieced together fairly randomly, and I loved the individuality of it.

 Afterwards, I had to stop by the shop, of course. I haven't got any fresh projects in mind (I have two quilts on my bed, one in the spare room, Squidgeling T's quilt's in Manchester, I've done two lap quilts and was very, very close to finishing Squidgeling J's quilt) that I mooched for a bit and gave in to a pack of tiny squares (might be OK for a cushion cover), some Christmas project fabric, and a charm pack in lovely pinks and aquas. Perhaps another lap quilt...?

I was inspired to go home though, and finish binding J's quilt. It is the first time I think I've ever been dressed in the colours of a quilt as I've bound the edges!

Love putting the binding on.

Colour co-ordinated quilter!

Close up of the 'squircles' quilted on the top

Mr Squidge, showing off the full size quilt.

Then I took some fabric I'd had for ages - with the aim of using it for cushion covers in the lounge - and cut it all into strips to make a kind of DIY jelly roll. I'd seen a video where you can make stripes along the length of a quilt rather than across, and the way it goes together is rather random. Now if I've learnt anything about myself and quilting, it's that I'm not very good at random. I like to lay everything out and get a balance of colours before I start, so this is a bit of a challenge. I'll keep you posted...