Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

A Merry Christmas

So, Christmas day is here and there is wrapping paper on the floor, sticky tape stuck to the table, my foot, and probably my forehead too.  The presents have been opened and the food is in the oven.  The Skype calls have been made, and wishes sent electronically to my family and friends in places too far to visit for a cup of Christmas tea.

New Kindle!!

This week I opened my Christmas present early because I knew what it was.  Generally I am not one to ask for certain things, but this year I knew what I wanted.  So when Santa Claus, who was obviously on his day off because he was wearing a DHL uniform, arrived with my present it didn't quite make it underneath the tree.  I knew that inside that little black box there was a gift I had been waiting for all year!  My new Kindle.

I have an endless backlog of eBooks to read now, and I am so overexcited by the screen that defies the sunshine, and the fact that it appears to have an inbuilt child/husband repellent becasue they took only one look at it and haven't touched it since!  This week I read A Christmas Carol, just to get in the spirit of things!

I am signing off now for a cup of tea and a late breakfast.  Wishing everybody a very merry Christmas and hoping that your day is filled with love, happiness, peace, and joy. 




Thursday, November 28, 2013

No Thanks, Giving it a Break!

Attention to my blog has been a little sparse of late, primarily because of NaNoWriMo.  For any of you who don’t know what that is, it’s when a writer puts his or her head in on the chopping block and says to the world – or at least a few fellow writers – that they are going to write 50,000 words of a brand new story during the month of November, national novel writing month.  I didn’t get off to a great start because I missed the first four days because of a cold.  This meant that the first couple of weeks were all about playing catch up.  I was beginning to feel like the Thanksgiving turkey might feel if it knew what November was all about. But just like the specially selected presidential turkey, I have today been spared judgement.  I have completed my word count and I am an official NaNoWriMo winner!

So, that leaves me with one 120,000 word manuscript to edit (which I finished in the summer), and another fresh one that tips the scale at 51,000 words in total courtesy of NaNoWriMo.  Slowly the editing pile is getting deeper and the writing ideas stockpile feels like it is getting smaller.



But unlike how I imagine my American family are feeling right now, sitting with their feet up rubbing their turkey filled bellies, I admit to feeling a little deflated.  Writing to a target has been all very well and good, and completing it rather than not reaching the goal is great.  But yet I feel a bit like I took a twenty hour plane ride and ended up on the runway where I left.  Without any of the in-flight entertainment.

It’s strange, because I am actually pretty happy with my new manuscript.  I like the plot and the characters have become realistic enough that after a few edits I’m sure I will get to know them better and they will feel well developed.  But it is a bit of a diversion for me.  Usually I write thrillers.  This is my genre.  This genre to me feels like a comfy sweater and big pants, the kind that if I was American I know I’d be changing into around about now.  Science fiction is a genre I love to read, and love to watch, but never have I tried to write it.

So for now, thanks NaNoWriMo, but my NaNoWriMo WIP is going to be electronically shuffled backwards on the to-do list.  At the moment I am going to start working on my latest full length manuscript, Psychophilia, because yesterday I decided to read the first chapter again and I got so excited I knew it was the right time to get back to it.  So for now NaNoWriMo, thanks, but you are just going to have to wait.

Monday, November 25, 2013

I have a dream......

I have a dream...

In fact, I have many.  I am a perpetual dreamer.  I am the type of child who would sit staring out of the window during class with big ideas, seeing the end of the journey before I had seen the step in front of me.  I was the university student who whilst checking out biochemistry books from the library, also checked out books about special effects make up techniques because I had this gnawing desire to run off to Hollywood and become the next Stan Winston.  I am the adult who read The Beach by Alex Garland and even when I was finally working in Cardiology as I planned, gave another serious thought to jacking everything in and going travelling through Thailand.  Most of my ‘dreams’ however were just fantasy.  I was never seriously going to become a make-up artist in Hollywood, and it was very unlikely although slightly more realistic that I would end up going travelling in Thailand.  These aspirations were ideas that I thought sounded nice, and yes, seeing my name on the credits for The Lord of the Rings would have been nice, but there were other things I always wanted much, much more.  So it begs the questions, were these ever really my dreams in the first place?

I read recently that some dreams were just not supposed to be followed.  There is a very good article by Mark Manson called Why Some Dreams Should Not Be Pursued.  The article is really not as negative as the title might suggest, and certainly isn’t about compartmentalising your dreams and aspirations into keep/throw boxes.  The point of his article was that sometimes we think we want something, but the reality is that we don’t.  I might have thought being a special effects make-up artist was the answer to my prayers when I really couldn’t be arsed to read another alchemic reaction, or when reading about genetics seemed about as interesting as sitting watching the washing machine whirl around.   But in truth I didn’t really want to do it.  Moving to Los Angeles and living in a bedsit because I had no money?  Creating a broken bloody nose whilst suffering an unnamed muscle-heavy actor letting his towel ‘slip’ off?  No thanks.  Biochemistry was by far the better option.  The other was just a distraction.  But what if I had got it wrong?  What if I did give it all up and run of to Hollywood?  If it all went wrong, would society just say that I was a failure?

Let me tell you a story about me.  Once upon a time I moved to Cyprus.  When I did so I gave up a job that paid well in a department where I loved working.  My colleagues were great, I had a managerial position, liked my house, my language, my family, my friends, and my hobbies, and I think you get the point that life in general was pretty good.  People honestly must have thought I was mad.  After I moved the dream I was chasing had its first test.  The job I thought I had disappeared within the first two weeks of being here so I spent four months unemployed after just moving to an island with a population of less than one million people on the brink of a worldwide recession.  I got another job but then the country actually went into recession and I was made redundant.  I spent at least eighteen months (some will attest to longer) with a completely gormless look on my face that communicated ‘I don’t understand’ when anybody tried to talk to me in Greek.  This occasionally still occurs, but less.  The cherry on top of the icing was when I also got arrested for having the wrong number plate on my imported car and was escorted from the motorway in convoy as if I was en route to bomb the nearest embassy.  In their defence, the police did assure me I hadn’t been arrested, but I have to say when you sign a statement and spend three hours in the police station, I’m not sure what else I am supposed to call it.  In all my time in Cyprus, never had I looked so gormless.

So did this mean that I had got it wrong, and that I should never have pursued this dream?  Was this even really my dream?  Did everybody back home think my dreams had gone up in smoke along with the finances of my new country?  Some might say so, but I don’t think so.  Before I came here there was never a question in my mind if I was doing the right thing or not, and even in the hardest moments since coming here I have never thought that I should go back to the UK.  I came here to follow a dream and I stuck to my plan.  If I hadn’t stuck through the tough bits, it was over.  No marriage or future as I had dreamt of.  I’ll grant you that sometimes I had to dig my sandaled heels right down into the nearest sandy beach, but I never gave up.  But this isn’t because I am a type-A personality who believes you can achieve anything you want if you just work hard enough.  I didn’t give up because I actually wanted this.  It wasn’t just a flippant fantasy like my dreams of Hollywood.  Would I have given up with so many setbacks en route to becoming a special effects make-up artist?  Maybe.  Probably.  But I didn’t give up on Cyprus because I really wanted it.  I knew before I had even started the journey that it didn’t matter how hard it got, I would stick it out. 

This for me and many other writers is much like writing.  Nobody ever promised me success before I started writing a book.  In fact, most people promised exactly the opposite.  But I just started writing it anyway.  Nobody promised me a publishing deal, so I self published and wrote another book to follow without knowing if it would sell a single copy.  I keep going.  I keep writing.  They have to be pursued because they are the real dreams, not the fantasies.  Mark Manson suggested that you have to fall in love with the process of achieving your dreams, rather than the end result, and when it comes to writing this couldn’t be closer to the truth.

For an idea or a fantasy to become a dream, you have to really want it, and those dreams should always be pursued.  Real dreams are exactly that because you are incapable to stop your path towards achieving it.  They are simply a part of you.  I am sure when Martin Luther King first uttered these four famous words and told the world he had a dream he didn’t do so lightly or without consideration of what it might take to move forward, no matter how hard the steps might become to achieve them.  And I can bet all I have achieved so far that he really, really wanted them to come true.

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Review sharing for Identity X

Reading a new review for Identity X is always fun and I really like this one!  This review is courtesy of K Ree at Kitty Muse Book Reviews (kathyree.wordpress.com) and can be found here.  But I am also sharing it with you below.  In other news, it's Sunday, it's late, my throat hurts and my nose is blocked, and there is a seven year old sat next to me who has also decided to write a book who needs my help, so forgive me, but the rest is copy and paste!  Enjoy!

"Persona non grata" is a phrase defined as "someone who is not wanted", in a nutshell. But what if someone decides to take that "not wanted" stigma a step much further?

Ben Stone becomes the target of such an ambition when, after a discovery of global proportions, he is suddenly, for all intents and purposes, wiped out of existence. The only thing that remains is the troubling fact that he is still breathing. Overnight, his lab, his work, his co-workers, and his very identity have all disappeared. Someone way up in the governmental hierarchy has gotten what he wanted, and is now hell-bent on making sure Ben gets erased.

But what this menace does not foresee is how very resourceful Ben is when it comes to surviving. Even though he is completely bewildered, with absolutely no idea of what has happened, Ben keeps his wits about him and eludes the bullets that rain down on him at every turn.

All too soon, though, with no one he can trust, and his options running out, Ben has but one choice-to trust the one person he thought he knew better than anyone. She risks her life to save his, along with the life of their son. But running like a low-voltage current through all of this is the one question: What happened to Ben's discovery? And what will the people who stole it from him do with it?

To be honest, my only regret is that I didn't read this book sooner. Ms. Muckley has a way with words that is in the upper echelons of writing. Her turns of phrase are so accurate and so descriptive-some of the best I've ever read. For example, at the beginning of the book, Ben is facing his peers, ready to announce his discovery. This is what Ms. Muckley writes:

He felt the weight of all great men before him who had stood on the same precipice of achievement, isolated in the solitary moment before the world learns what has been accomplished.

The book is rife with descriptions of this caliber. Her characters are so real that I could almost hear them breathing. Beautifully crafted, and it has an ending that just cries out for more. It was a total surprise, and, as they say, "therein lies another story".

More, please!


Sunday, October 27, 2013

The New Idea

Last Friday was a great day for many reasons.  Number one, it's bank holiday Monday coming up this weekend in Cyprus which means and extra day of weekend, which even when you work for yourself still feels good knowing that there is the chance of an extra hour in bed with no alarm call.  It was also the day when I finished the first edit of my next book.  It is no longer called Crazy Girl and now sits under a new file name in a version that is probably quite close to the finished product.  And finally, Friday was also the day when I came up with a new idea for the next story, and that is without doubt always an exciting time.

As part of ‘Operation Long Weekend the husband and I have found a love of YouTube documentaries.  It started off with a documentary about Ted Bundy, followed by the fattest woman in the world who was blamed for the murder of her nephew, and ended up in a much more promising place called Birth of the Earth.  As we are both science geeks we love a show about space, and this one was particularly interesting.  It explained how what started off as nothing but a cloud of gas and dust particles took the long journey to eventually become the planet we live on today.

This got me thinking that this process is quite like the idea for a book, and is much like my latest concept.  An idea always begins with a tiny snippet in the beginning, just like the dust and gas cloud.  Mine happens to be a countdown clock, or perhaps a board with numbers on that the whole world is watching.  As of yet, I have no idea why they are watching it.  I have no idea what they believe will happen when it gets to zero.  I have no idea even who is watching it.  But this idea has been floating around in the space of my brain for a while now, minding its own business.  It is still waiting for a supernova to strike and smash these dust like ideas into something of substance that can actually begin to become something more than a cloud.  Something that has substance. 

This is what happened in the first steps to create the earth, a huge injection of power, a shockwave that smashed into a cloud of gas and dust.  It compressed the gas and dust into a new star, the centre of a swirling mass of charged dust particles which over the course of the next four billion years underwent enough changes to become the planet we live on and the solar system we know as our own.  It took lightening to force the clumps together and chance collisions with other rocks.  When they became large enough gravity took over.  It held these clumps together until they were so large in size that the gravity was strong enough to drag these rocky lumps in on themselves to shift from an irregular comet shape into a spherical, early version of the earth.  But this is still just the beginning.

I am thinking about trying to bash this idea out in NaNoWriMo, but I have huge reservations.  It seems like a great idea at the moment.  One month, one book.  How can that not be a good idea?  But the process to form the earth took billions of years, and the destruction of other smaller early planets before our world became something that can sustain life.  Perhaps by trying to force a book out during NaNoWriMo, all I'll end up with is a rocky comet that doesn't grow large enough for it to ever become a planet, and fifty thousand words of an idea that never fulfil their true potential.

Sunday, October 13, 2013

Introducing Elizabeth McKenna

To celebrate her latest release, Elizabeth McKenna is joining us here today and sharing an excerpt of her latest novel Venice in the Moonlight.  When she is not writing novels, she works as a full-time technical writer/editor for a large software company. Though her love of books reaches back to her childhood, she had never read romance novels until one Christmas when her sister gave her the latest bestseller by Nora Roberts. She was hooked from page one (actually, she admits it was the first love scene). She had always wanted to write fiction, so when a psychic told her she would write a book, she felt obligated to give it a try. She combined her love of history, romance and a happy ending to write her debut novel Cera's Place. Her short story, The Gypsy Casts a Spell, is available for free on her website http://elizabethmckenna.com/. She hopes you will enjoy her latest novel, Venice in the Moonlight, as much as others have enjoyed her previous works.

Elizabeth lives in Wisconsin with her understanding husband, two beautiful daughters, and sassy Labrador. When she isn't writing, working, or being a mom, she's sleeping.



A Story of Vengeance, Forgiveness, and Love


After her husband’s untimely demise, Marietta Gatti is banished from the family’s villa by her spiteful mother-in-law. She returns to her hometown of Venice and her only kin—a father she hasn’t spoken to since her forced marriage. Her hope of making amends is crushed when she learns she is too late, for he recently has died under suspicious circumstances. Grief-stricken, Marietta retraces her father’s last night only to discover someone may have wanted him dead—and she may be next. When the prime suspect turns out to be the father of the man she is falling in love with, Marietta risks her future happiness and her life to avenge the death of a man she once hated.
Elizabeth McKenna’s latest novel takes you back to eighteenth century Carnival, where lovers meet discreetly, and masks make everyone equal.

Read an excerpt.........

Nico shrugged in the French wingback chair they had placed by the fireplace for his portrait. He looked regal in a black silk suit trimmed in gold and a waistcoat of burgundy and gold leaf-patterned brocade. It seemed Raul had excellent taste in men’s fashions.


Marietta rolled her eyes before she settled in a chair behind the easel. “Please keep still while I draw.”


“May I talk?”


“I’d rather you didn’t.” Looking at him was going to be enough distraction. She didn’t need to listen to him also.


He ignored her request. “I have to ask—why Palladino?”


Marietta blew out an exasperated breath. “I can’t sketch you properly if you talk.”


“You could have chosen any man at the Consul’s villa. Casanova himself expressed interest in you, yet you leave with that pig.”


“It’s not what you think.” She compared her drawing to Nico and frowned. His shoulders were no longer in the same position.


“You didn’t have to suffer the man’s dismal lovemaking. What were you thinking?”


“We did not make love,” she replied through clenched teeth.


He continued as if not hearing her. “You’re the first woman in years that he didn’t have to pay, though he would never admit to his need for courtesans. I just don’t understand how you could find him appealing.”


“We did not make love.” She practically shouted it this time. “I’m not attracted to Palladino or any other man for that matter.”


This silenced him, gratefully, but only for a few moments. “Well, in that case, I know of a few courtesans that can accommodate you. I am told they are quite beautiful and skilled.”


Marietta threw down her charcoal and marched over to him. She grabbed his shoulders and repositioned him. “That is not what I meant and you know it.”


He smiled up at her innocently. “I didn’t mean to offend you, but you have refused my charms, so what should I think?”


She glared at him for her own benefit, knowing it would have no effect on the man. “You need to stop talking and moving.”


When he didn’t respond, she said, “That’s better.”


He lasted almost fifteen minutes. “So, what kind of man are you attracted to? Perhaps, I could suggest a few potential lovers.”


“How about one who has fewer conquests than fingers and toes? Or one that values honesty and fidelity over all else? Do you know any like that?”


From the thoughtful look on his face, he took this as an earnest question. “I’m afraid, Kitty, a man like that will be hard to find in Venice, especially this time of year.”


“Well, then, I guess I’ll have to go without.”


“How depressing. What will you do for amusement if you don’t take a lover?”


Marietta rubbed at her temples and decided she deserved more than the coins she’d already been paid. “There’s more to life than pleasuring oneself.”


“Really?”


“Yes, Signore, really.” She placed her stub of charcoal on the easel’s tray and rolled the stiffness from her neck and shoulders. “That is all for today. I have another appointment.” It was a lie, but she felt the need to rest and the bed in the corner was tempting her tired body.
 
Buy Venice in the Moonlight from AMAZON

Friday, October 11, 2013

Using music in fiction


When I was eight I loved Madaonna. By the time I was ten, Guns N Roses. By the time I was in my late teens my tastes were varied, but I always fell on the side of metal and rock music and spent many a sweaty night in flea-pit pubs listening to music that only just about qualified to be considered as such. I remember one night in particular. I found myself in a punk gig in Wolverhampton feeling much like what I was listening to wasn't really for me, whether it actually counted as music or not, and that perhaps my ears might start to bleed by the end of the night. Nights like this explain why most questions people ask of me nowadays are met by a polite, 'sorry what did you say?' Tinnitus for four consecutive days does not for good hearing make!

But written questions don't pose the same problem, and considering that I am an author doing interviews whenever I get a chance I get lots of them to answer. There are certain questions that always come up and they are never difficult to answer. What do I need to be able to write? What kind of environment do I like? People like to picture how we as authors get the books written.  The easy answer was always silence. Perhaps years of 'noise' forced me into craving silence. I didn’t care for anything that created it whilst writing. TV or music, radio, chatter. Whatever it was, if it wasn't silence, it was out.

And then I started writing my latest book, and it became pretty evident that music featured heavily. Gregory, one of the characters has a love of classical music, and the importance of this fact is told through his wife's eyes and helps document a complex aspect of their relationship. So after the first scene cropped up with a bit of Rachmaninoff in, I decided it wouldn't be a bad idea to start a YouTube search and check I had got the right piece. It started off as a simple ten second check that I was using the composition that I wanted to, but then I decided to leave that song on to play. It turned out that having the music in the background helped. I had chosen that song for a reason. It had a mood to it, it delivered a certain feeling, and by listening to it I found that I could get into the spirit of the scene with much greater ease. Ultimately by having the music on I found that the emotion that I wanted to create flowed into the writing.

After this first scene I found that I craved the music, and that my prerequisite of silence was suddenly no longer quite so important. I spent time searching through YouTube for the right songs as I was writing different chapters. I wasn't even mentioning the songs in the writing, but just having them on in the background helped the words to flow. One scene I found that I was playing one particular song repeatedly until I got the scene exactly as I wanted it.

So no longer can I answer the question about my writing environment with such flippant ease. It seems that I am learning all the time about what I need in order to get the job done. Just like my tastes in music changed, so do my requirements to be able to write successfully at different stages of my life.  Writing sometimes needs silence and sometimes it needs, well, something else. Right now I am listening to an album from my youth, Megadeth's Youthanasia and wondering how I even considered that writing in silence was the thing I needed for this particular challenge!  I might only be one more riff away from producing a set of metal horns!

What do you need when you write? Has it changed like my needs have?

Monday, October 7, 2013

Overload


Most indie writers like me like a double life.  We work in a 'normal' job, and then we snatch minutes when we can to work on our passion of writing.  Stephen King was a teacher, Hugh Howey was a jack of all trades, and I was/am a scientist.  Managing our time has always been and will always be a challenge.  Now I might not be in their league yet, but there is no harm in dreaming, right?
But therein lies the problem.  I am a dreamer.   I have one section of my brain that loosely focuses on the task in hand, whatever that might be, and I have another part of the brain that does the essentials like breathing, keeping my heart beating, and stopping my blood from boiling in the insane Cyprus summer.  But there is another part of my brain which I think only writers, and perhaps artists and other creative types share, and that is the bit that is in no way attached to reality at any point in time.   

This part of my brain spends its time doing not very much.  It has one primary function.  Day dreaming.  I might be using the other two aforementioned brain function for general living and completing tasks, but this little appendix just does its own thing, it would seem under no conscious kind of control.
My conscious brain has in mind that I have just released a book, Identity X and that I have to put some work behind it.  I have reviews to chase up, appearances to complete, a blog tour currently sort of happening, and a ticket to book for London so I can attend the book fair I have in mind.  But yet I am having a lot of random thoughts about several other things, and I blame this writer only brain add-on that comes like an optional extra that you didn't order but nevertheless you're glad is there.
Currently, I am part way through the first edit of a book that I am currently calling Crazy Girl.  This is subject to change, but for now it has stuck.  I am about 30 pages in of 160 (which equates to about 92,000 words at the moment, rising steadily all the time) on the first big edit.  Plus, I am having a great time.  Thoroughly enjoying it.  But there is another idea that is whirling around that seems to be getting the better of me.  
This idea, way more Sci-Fi in than anything I have ever done before is currently on ice.  I am trying to keep it in mind so that when it comes to getting something on paper it's there and ready to go.  There is also the first chapter of an Identity X sequel half mentally written, and that too needs to find an outlet.  My writer brain add-on is working over time! 
I thought it was bad enough trying to time-manage between ‘real’ job and writer, and now it seems there is some other creative inlet that I have accidentally opened, and I can’t even manage my writing tasks.  But I guess they do say the best kind of marketing is the next book.  Don’t they?

Sunday, October 6, 2013

Inside the Mind of a Writer

When I was asked to write a guest post entitled ‘Inside the Mind of a Writer’, I have got to say I was a bit intrigued.  Whilst I love writing my guest posts about characters, writing technique, and book ideas, nobody before had asked me to write anything about who I am.  What goes on inside my brain?  What makes me tick?  So the novelty of it really got me thinking.

Like all good thoughts in 2013, I decided to start with Google.  Google has become my best friend for the unanswered questions of my curious mind.  I typed Inside the mind of, but it wasn’t writer that followed in my search results.  Whose brains are we all desperate to riffle through?  Top searches are serial killer, killer, sociopath, and narcissist.  And Google itself.  What a narcissist!

So it seems that what we all really want to discover is what goes on inside the mind of somebody who hangs out in the dark places, the shady corners of life.  The world has gone crazy for the likes of Dexter, CSI, and the many true crime shows on TV.  We want to know what drives these people, why they committed their crimes, and how they could possibly have done the things they did.  We want to understand the things that really we cannot imagine ourselves. 

Well, I am not really any different.  Let me tell you a bit about me.  The basics.  Female, thirty two, married to a Greek guy, two step kids, scientist by trade and qualification.  All sounds pretty normal so far.  And it is.  I am in fact pretty average.  My DVD drawer is full of horror, my bookshelf houses a mixture of thriller and suspense, and as for a good crime show just try and drag me away.  But what drives me to write about such things?  Why do I spend hour upon hour of my time typing up stories, writing about the things most people don’t want to think about after the show has finished and their curiosity has been satisfied?

It was about ten years ago that I first I announced to a very good friend of mine that I was going to write a book.  But the will to do it began a long time before this initial conversation.  I was still a child when I decided that I wanted to be a writer.  I was holding a copy of Gerald’s Game by Stephen King in my hand, marvelling at his black and white picture on the back cover.  I was nine, I think, and I thought he looked like the coolest guy I had ever seen in my life.  When my parents told me he must be crazy because of the things he writes about, I became convinced that my earlier assumption was correct.  He became cooler than cool in my eyes.  I took that book home, read it in a week, and from that point on decided I would one day be as cool as Stephen King.  My secret desire to be a writer was born. 

It was secret because it seemed to me to be a bit, well, fanciful.  A bit of a woo-hoo-head-in-the-clouds type of idea.  When the careers counsellor asked me what I was going to do with my life, saying I’m going to write a book seemed like the wrong answer.   So instead I came out with something sensible.  I am going to be a scientist in healthcare.  Excellent.  One tick for me. 

But the idea of being a writer was still lurking in the background refusing to go away.  I had ideas, thoughts, all jumbled up in a mixture of stories, floating around in my cloud-dwelling head.  I think that many writers are introverts.  I know I certainly can be at times.  So writing is in some way a form of expression.  A lot of internal thought processes and ideas which only come out on paper, like some sort of catharsis.  That’s not to say my books are therapy, but rather I know when I look at them they are absolutely bursting at the seams full of me.

But understanding why I write goes much deeper than me putting my ideas down on paper in an attempt not to go crazy.  In all honesty, I would be unlikely to go nuts if I never wrote another word in my life.  So it still doesn’t really explain why I write.

Words themselves are one of the earliest things that we are taught.  If we hold a new baby, no more than hours old, we talk to it.  We tell it things, things it will learn, things we promise it.  It hears these words without any clue of what they really mean, and yet we say them anyway.  We keep doing it as they age until the point when they say their own first word, and then we celebrate it as a milestone in their development.  Whether it’s mum, dad, dog, or pooh, we celebrate the knowledge that comes with the onset of the spoken word.  Afterwards we teach them to write, and from that point on almost everything they learn is associated to words and writing.  Even people who don’t ‘write’ use words every day.  Some of us even keep diaries, which has to be the most personal and private form of writing that there is.

Before we developed language we communicated through sound, from one Neanderthal caveman to another to link them together in thought or action.  Ancient civilisations used hieroglyphics, images and symbols to communicate and to spread ideals.  The first scriptures on stone, papyrus, and before that cave walls, all linked the writer or artist to another person.  To the reader.  To their civilizations.  To the people in their time and beyond. 

People do not write because of fame or money.  Most who write never find either of those things through their writing.  Writing itself can be lonely and tiring.  Writing can stop you doing other things because slowly it takes over.  Those two hours of free time at the shopping centre sound good, but when you’ve got a couple thousand more words to write you chose to stay home and get it done.  Writing is a way that we communicate to the world, but writing itself is just the medium.  Words are the true magic, and whether it is written, spoken, a poem or a song, we use them every day to link us to our society and those people within it. 

So inside the mind of the writer is simply to be inside the mind of a person who chooses to communicate.  It is no more complicated than any other mind.  People see it as introverted and closed, but truly it is one of the most open minds there is because the writer shares everything of their thoughts through his or her words.  Our world is one huge society, and we are in some way all linked as a community.   We are a world because we communicate and we all choose our medium.  Be it words, art, knowledge, or cinema.  We all deliver our message.  Perhaps this is why we are Googling our way into the minds of sociopaths and killers.  We want to understand them because they are part of our world.  We want to hear their message because they are in some way linked to us.  But then again, this all sounds a bit woo-hoo-head-in-the-clouds to me.  Maybe I am a writer because I’m crazy after all.

 

Friday, October 4, 2013

Going on tour

About a week ago a very kind reviewer made me an offer.  A ten stop blog tour free of charge.  Well, that kind of offer doesn't come along too often, so of course I said yes.  So I am going on tour!



Here are the details.  Ten different blogs and one huge giveaway (still two to add).  This time there are two paperback copies of Identity X up for grabs and a whole bunch of eBooks.  Here is the schedule.

5th Weblogaboutbooks Biography & Interview and excerpt.
6th The Book Read Cave Biography & Interview and excerpt.
7th Oct Extaordinaryreads.com Biography & Interview
8th Oct get-a-ebookreview.blogspot.com Biography & Interview
9th Oct Wackywhatever.wordpress.com Biography & Excerpt
10th Oct get-a-ebook-review.blogspot.com Exclusive Excerpt
11th Oct Wackywhatever.blogspot.com Synopsis and interview
12th Oct Theselfpublishinggenie.tumblr.com Biography & Interview and excerpt.
 
All dates include giveaways so don't miss a stop!
 
Grab the button, share the free, and share the fun!
 


Thursday, October 3, 2013

Say what?


As a writer, it's not going to surprise you much if I tell you I love to read.  I don't read quickly, but I read constantly.  In bed, on the settee, in the kitchen, even standing in queues, which in Cyprus is like nothing you might have seen before.  There is no line for one, no order, and a whole lot of shouting about not very much.  Alright when you know what's being said, not so easy when you don't.  It resembles what you might imagine an early Athenian democracy to look like, minus the togas.  An amphitheatre of people surrounding the target, be it doorway, cashier, whatever, all pushing and shoving, handing out opinions to the air and perhaps even numbers to each other for who was first.  Of which there might be five contenders.  Anyway, I digress.

One things that is so important to me when I read a book is the dialogue.  It is the difference between me liking and believeing in a character or believing that they are just that.  Just a name on a page which does certain things or acts in certain ways to move a story along.  It doesn't matter what a writer does in the prose, if you screw up the dialogue you might as well stick a nail in your protagonist’s coffin right then and there.  If he or she doesn't speak like a real person, they die on your page.

I read a good novel a few months ago (which shall remain nameless) and the story was pretty good.  However, every few pages somebody would come across a problem and irrespective of what it was, their response was, 'oh no'.  If they ran out of milk it was 'oh no'.  If they lost their phone it was 'oh no'.  They found a dead body, and yep, 'oh no'.  I think most characters might have something a little bit more to say about a corpse tied up in a cupboard.

And then you come across an absolute gem, which is why I am writing this post.  Sometimes you don't realise what bad dialogue is until you see the absolute standout-in-a-crowd dialogue that just blows you away.

I started reading American Psycho yesterday and it is full of dialogue.  I have, perhaps, never read dialogue quite like it.  It's all over the place; I have to re-read sentences to follow where I am properly.  It's random and jerky, and there are interjections from outsiders.  Jokes thrown in which seemingly have nothing to do with just 'moving a plot along' as we are told dialogue must do to fulfil its purpose.  It feels so real that I feel I might be sat in a fifth chair at their dinner table just listening in and checking out the women nearby and then dismissing them for their petty imperfections. 

Real dialogue breathes life into a character, and this has has got me thinking about the dialogue in the manuscript that I am currently editing and wondering how I can improve it.  My only problem now is making it as good.

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Geting over the hurdle of chapter one


So, you always wanted to write a novel, and finally you have an idea that you just know will work.  You have sketched a few notes out on paper and maybe brainstormed a few character traits (if you planned a lot).  You are all set.  So out comes the computer and as you type Chapter One you are so full of excitement and enthusiasm you can barely focus to write the first sentence.  You watch the cursor flicking in and out of view each second.  Tick-tock, tick-tock.  Half an hour has passed and all you have written is the first sentence.  Five times.  Because you have also deleted it five times, and now you find yourself sat in front of a blank screen with those initial dreams and endless possibilities never seeming further away.

I heard it said once that everybody has a book in them.  I don’t know who said it first, but I heard it from my friend when I first said I was going to write a novel.  This was a wet New Years Eve in a cold pub garden in England.  I felt very encouraged by her obvious enthusiasm.  If everybody has a book in them, I must be able to write one.  But why if it is that easy isn’t everybody doing it?  Why doesn’t everybody leave work and hunch themselves over a computer at night at the expense of friends and a social life?  Because when you sit down to do it, you soon realise that it’s harder in practice than it looks.

What seems like a great idea at the beginning can soon run into problems, especially if you haven’t planned well.  I know this because about the only thing I manage to plan is sitting at the computer.  I have managed to increase the attention to planning with each book I have written, but it remains anything but impressive, and the material is always subject to change.  Getting from point A (A being the time when you say to your friend in a pub garden that you are going to write a novel) to point B (finished product) can take a long time.  For my first book it took me about eight years.

I procrastinated for at least four years after that initial conversation, save the odd bit of note taking here and there.  In all honesty, the initial idea had at best been lame.  But what never left me was the desire to write.  I always believed that I would do it, but was never really sure how.

So the big question for any of you out there who are thinking that this sounds a lot like you, is how do you actually get started?   The difficult part is that there is no simple answer, although the realisation for me was indeed something simple.  I realised that in order to be a writer, I had to make a very simple change in my life.  I had to actually start writing something (other than ideas on post-it notes!)  It sounds too easy, doesn’t it?  Why hadn’t I realised this before? 

Beginning a new writing project always requires a bit of a hurdle over the starting blocks.  But what happens in time is that as a writer you develop your own methods of managing this leap.  Staring at a blank word document with a total word count of two, knowing that you have to reach somewhere in the region of 80-90,000 for a full length novel and never having done it before is a big undertaking.  Also, with the daily demands of work, children, partners, school fetes and PTA meetings, when exactly are you supposed to fit it all in?  Days might go by and you don’t manage to write anything, and slowly the habit of not writing becomes exactly that.  A habit.

So writing a book takes time and determination.  Nothing you didn’t know there.  What can you do to manage the doubts before you have even started?  I’ll tell you what I did.

1.       I stopped imagining the publishing contract.

It’s so tempting when you sit writing your first few sentences to daydream about what the future might bring and how you might be the next King, Banks, or Meyer.  Focus on the now.  What you are doing right now.  Right now you are writing chapter one, so stop thinking about the celebratory cigars and brandy, at least until you have finished the first draft.  Celebrate small success along the way, rather than waiting for the big one at the end.

2.       I stopped analysing what I was writing.

First drafts are exactly that.  They are not supposed to be the finished product, and neither should they be.  My first drafts don’t even make sense in places.  There are words missing, added, and mistyped.  Write the first draft as quickly as you can, and as Stephen King would suggest, with the door closed.  It’s your first draft, so keep it that way.  Don’t let people influence you yet.  Write what you think, not what your husband or your best friend thinks.

3.       I made a schedule.

It’s great to write every day, and now I just about manage that.  But at the beginning life was very different.  Back then I worked about fifty hours a week, and quite a few extra hours on call too, running in and out of a hospital at all hours of the night.  Writing every day back then was a hopeless dream.  So instead, if I couldn’t write I dedicated a little bit of time each day to thinking about the book.  I thought about the plot, where I was going with a particular character, or new ideas.  Some of these ten minute chunks snatched at lunch or in the car were really helpful, and it kept my mind in touch with the book.  When you do get half an hour to get down  500 words you will find that you feel fresh and in touch with the work, and don’t have to spend 10 minutes catching up.

4.       I gave myself a pat on the back.

I remember feeling very nervous the first time I told anybody I was writing a book.  By then I was probably two thirds of the way through the first draft and thinking that I might actually finish it.  I knew the first draft was crummy and needed work, but I had still written over 50,000 words.  It was a small celebration of what had been achieved so far.   Plus, the response was great, and it was nice to celebrate with somebody and listen to their enthusiasm. 

5.       I sat on the first draft.

Once you finish, crack open the bubbly.  It’s time to celebrate.  You have written the skeleton draft of your book.  Take a rest from it before going back and starting the edit.

The idea of writing a book has never been so attractive to the thousands of people out there who want to do it.  Perhaps my friend was right, and that everybody does have a book in them.  The difference between the doers and the non doers is nothing more exciting than dedication and commitment.  Writing a book is hard, and there are times when you feel like you are churning out rubbish and want to give up.  Something else I heard the other day is that a professional writer is simply an amateur who never gave up.  It’s something to remind yourself of when the sight of a blank page seems like the biggest hurdle to overcome.

Monday, September 30, 2013

Hanging Hill by Mo Hayder review

Hanging HillHanging Hill by Mo Hayder
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This was my first Mo Hayder book. I was given it by an American cousin who had thought it was 'ok'. As soon as I started reading it I could tell it was very British and I liked this, as usually I read American thrillers and it was nice to get into something familiar with cultural references that I completely understood.

As for the story, I really liked it. I think the characters were well developed, especially the female characters. I would have liked to hear a bit more about Steve and his shady background. Plus, he seemed to have a strong link to Mooney, and I wonder if this connection would have gone so easily undetected.

Plus, I would have liked to hear a little bit more about the killer, without mentioning any names!

I like her style of writing. It is smart, but yet seems casual.

Good story, good voice, and good characters. Worth your time.

View all my reviews

Sunday, September 29, 2013

A MENU OF DEATH IS AVAILABLE TODAY!!


 

A collection of stories centered around vengeance, obsession, cravings, and life.

Pick one item of the Menu or devour the entire buffet

Make sure you don't bite off more than you can chew

Read, but not with greed for

Death awaits, ready to come and collect its due


 
Today I am so excited to be hosting Lucy Pireel, an avid reader and dabbler in the kitchen.  Lucy doesn't like to be confined to one genre of work, and so she writes whatever comes to mind which makes for a very varied collection of work.  Today she is celebrating the release of A Menu of Death, and she took a quick time out to answer a few of our questions.
 
Lucy, welcome! Looking at your collection of work, you seem to enjoy writing short stories. What is it that draws you to the short story writing, rather than a full length novel?
 
I actually am writing three full lenght novels too at the moment, but in the mean time I write shorts and publish those to fill up the gap until my first full length novel is ready for publication.
 
Wow, you are busy! I have been thinking about writing a short story for a submission to a magazine. How do you make sure that you develop well rounded and real to life characters in a short story?
 
Ah, it's all about words and in a short the arc is there just as in a novel, you just have less words to make everything work. While in a novel you have 'time' in a short every word counts as if your life depends on it. There is no room for fillers or frills. No side-tracking and focus on what is necessary to the story and the character development.
 
What is the hardest challenge that you have to overcome as a writer?
 
Don't let myself be distracted by social media! :-)
 
HA!  I know all about that!  I notice on Amazon that sometimes you have co-authors for some of your work. How hard is it to collaborate? How to you resolve artistic differences?
 
A slight correction. Even though I do have a few collaborations on the go, all of the work that is published until now is solely my own. None of the shorts published is a collaboration of any kind. But it is not that hard to collaborate, it is just a matter of finding the right person and be ready to adjust what you think the work should be like. For example I'm at the moment working on a conversation in poetry collaboration. It's fun to do, because while each 'message' is a poem, the whole will eventually become a rounded out story.
 
If you had to stop writing tomorrow, what would it be that you miss the most?
 
Being able to create a world and characters that, even though I am the author and their creator, is an essential part of me. The way how writing lifts my mood when I'm down, or relieves anger when I can kill of that character instead of swear at someone who doesn't deserve it.
 
What are your future writing plans? Any more work lined up?
 
As I mentioned, I have three WIPs and one novel in its final stage of editing. And I intend to keep writing shorts to complement the longer works.
 
Thanks so much for joining us! 
 
You can find lucy in the following places
 
 
And don't forget that you can enter the competition here!
 
 
 
 
a Rafflecopter giveaway