A frosty atmosphere pervades Cynthia’s normally welcoming sitting room which has nothing to do with the February cold. Gina regards me steadily from across the room and Gary, who’s perching on the arm of her chair, wears the expression he normally reserves for the rare occasions when Liverpool FC fail to win. Even Asmar, Cynthia’s cat, has turned his back on me.
Connor addresses me from a commanding position by the fireplace. ‘It’s not that we don’t understand your need to follow your authorial instincts, Ms Hall, and we’re delighted about the upcoming release of your new book, but this latest little series you’ve embarked upon doesn’t seem to be turning out as we’d hoped.’
‘As soon as we saw the title we thought we’d be in it,’ says Gina, ‘but no, you gave the starring role to Joey, and his character only gets a tiny mention in the final paragraph of our novel*.’
‘Then Ceridwen appears and she’s from a completely different book**,’ adds Gary. ‘She must be getting on a bit now.’
‘I would rather like to meet her,’ says Cynthia thoughtfully. ‘Not only is she a woman in her prime,’ she casts a meaningful glance at Gary, ‘but I think we’d have a lot in common.’ She draws her purple pashmina around her shoulders and looks at me earnestly. ‘I hope you’re not going to saddle her with the jade camel.’
‘Saddle the camel.’ Connor chuckles. ‘Good one, old thing!’
Cynthia gives him a withering look.
My gaze travels from one face to another. ‘I honestly thought that you’d all come forward once I’d started the story. That’s the way it usually works.’
‘Oh, so I suppose it’s also our fault that you’re still not starting our sequel.’ Gina’s eyes narrow. ‘We know you’ve already begun thinking about a sequel to the sequel you’ve just finished.’ She nudges Gary. ‘Did you see? She’s already covered that whiteboard of hers with ideas.’
Connor raises his hands towards her in a calming gesture then turns to me. ‘Sorry, Ms Hall, it’s just that we feel we’re not getting the exposure we deserve.’
I have an idea.
‘Listen. Why don’t you all come to the launch of the Spirit of Shell Man next Friday? It’s being held at the Six Sentence Café and Bistro. My back catalogue books will be there, so you’ll be able to engage with readers.’
‘Is that a real place?’ says Gina in sceptical tone.
I smile back at her. ‘It is if you want it to be.’
Connor’s eyes light up. ‘Might I bring along some of my slim volumes of poetry?’
Grab your seat at the launch here at lunasonline next Friday!
* You’ll Never Walk Alone (2019) ** The Silver Locket (2012)
I am indebted to my beta readers for their careful consideration of my work. Our discussions come in many forms. This was part of a whatsapp conversation between me and my loyal and gifted friend, Laurette as she burned the midnight oil reading the draft MS of Spirit of the Shell Man, the sequel to Song of the Sea Goddess, a few weeks ago.
~~~
Laurette: I just wanted to mention that it is unsafe to feed a dog grapes or raisins. I know that Toti is a monkey and wouldn’t know that.😔
Me: Oh, I didn’t know that either. I don’t want to poison the dog or lead anyone else to. I’ll have to think of something else.
a little later
Me: Are bananas okay for dogs? (asking for a monkey friend) 🐒🍌
Laurette: Bananas are safe for dogs to eat in small amounts and could help with gastrointestinal issues. However, too much banana can lead your dog to having an upset stomach and diarrhea due to the amount of extra fiber and sugar.
Me: So Toti sharing a couple of slices is fine then. Great!
Laurette: 👍
Re-write time!
Before🍇🍇🍇🍇🍇
Andreas serves up the two breakfasts and puts a dish containing a small bunch of grapes by the stool where Toti’s sitting. She gives him a long blink then grabs the grapes from the dish. A moment later she drops to the floor and scurries out of the back door, the bunch held delicately between her teeth. The Professor spins in his seat, the fork speared with a piece of sausage half way to his mouth. ‘Where are you going, Toti?’ he calls anxiously after her.
Andreas, who can see through the open door from where he’s standing, is quick to reassure him. ‘Don’t worry, Professor, she’s sharing her breakfast with my little skeelo friend. The Professor cranes around the edge of the counter to see Toti plucking a grape from the bunch and offering it to the scruffy little dog that Andreas has been feeding each morning for a year or more. Grinning, the Professor raises his eyebrows and returns to his breakfast.
After🍌🍌🍌🍌🍌
Andreas serves up the two breakfasts and places a banana on the counter. ‘Shall I peel and slice it for you?’ he says, grinning down at Toti. She gives him a long blink then carefully picks up the banana. A moment later she drops to the floor and scurries out of the back door with it. The Professor spins on his seat, the piece of sausage speared on his fork half way to his mouth. ‘Where are you going, Toti?’ he calls anxiously after her.
Andreas, who can see through the open door from where he’s standing, is quick to reassure him. ‘Don’t worry, Professor, she’s sharing her breakfast with my little skeelo friend. The Professor cranes around the edge of the counter to see Toti breaking a piece from the now-peeled banana and offering it to the scruffy little dog that Andreas has been feeding each morning for a year or more. Grinning, the Professor raises his eyebrows and returns to his breakfast.
Paul English, Jill Morsbach and me at Bookworms bookstore
This time last week I was hauling a bag of my novels into Bookworms bookstore in preparation for last Saturday’s book launch event. We’d certainly had a big build up, with Bookworm’s owner, Waldo, inviting folk to come along and ‘rub shoulders with literary geniuses’. Ahem.
Here we are on the big day, posing happily for the paparazzi!
Paul, as some of you know, is my writing buddy. We meet up over coffee and cake and have ‘writerly conversations’ from time to time, email each other when stuck and generally exchange ideas about our current projects. You’ll find Paul over at Backroom Bulletin where he chats about his writing progress each week. Here’s Paul’s take on the event.
I hadn’t come across Jill or her books before, but after chatting on the phone a week or so before the event, I went down to Bookworms to snag a copy of her new book, thus ensuring a sale of one of mine! I’d almost finished reading Noah and his Solar-Powered Ark by the day of the launch, and I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed it. You can read my review on Goodreads here and meet Jill herself at her website here.
Also at the launch were a couple of beginner writers and it was great to offer them encouragement on how to progress their craft. All in all, it was a fun morning, and although sales were quite modest, it was lovely to meet both readers and writers and talk about books.
We also got a super write up in the local newspaper, the Bolander, which is widely distributed in the local area and also online, making it so much easier to share with you: Book launch at Bookworms.
As Waldo says, when quoted in the article: “Our very first book launch went down famously… and I’m looking forward to many more to come.” – I couldn’t agree more!
Now, I must dash. I’m off to meet my beta reader friend Laurette for her feedback on the manuscript of my soonish-to-be-released latest novel. The cover is almost ready and I’ve even finished agonizing over the ‘dreaded blurb’. More about ‘Spirit of the Shell Man’ soon!
Wonderful writer, reader and reviewer, Diana of Myths of the Mirror blog has thrown down her velvet gauntlet for a fun writing challenge. Here’s what she says: “I don’t know anyone who owns a Kindle (or other ebook reader) and isn’t buried in books. We groan as we add more to the stack… then laugh about it and buy more! That’s my situation anyway.”
That’s my situation too!
Here are the details of Diana’s challenge – The Teetering TBR Pile – the challenge is open until 23 January if you’d like to join in too.
This is my response:
Ode to My Kindle
Kindle, my Kindle, how do you compare to those wretched stacks of curling pages whose covers dim in daylight’s brightness spines rendered unreadable by old age?
Shelves piled high with neither rhyme nor reason unruly stacks wobbling and tottering set to tumble in thunderous cascades engulfing unwary readers in words.
Kindle, my Kindle, how long has it been since first we browsed those virtual bookshelves hovering o’er Amazon’s icons bright daring downloads at the click of a key?
Far have we travelled by land, air and sea since I first loaded a heap of beach reads oh, my Kindle, faithful companion never rejecting yet another book.
~~~~~~~~
While you’re here, fellow overstuffed e-readers, can I just tempt you to just one more teensy-weensy book? The book birthday freebie offer I was running has finished, but you can download Song of the Sea Goddess for a snip: USA ~ UK ~ IND ~ AUS ~ CAN ~ ESP ~ South Africa and the Rest of the World
Better still, bookstore owner Waldo extended Jill’s invitation to other local authors to join in the launch. Keen to support any book-related event, and even keener to publicise and, dare I say it, sell our books, fellow Somerset West author, Paul English and I jumped at the chance to join her.
By great good fortune, the author copies of Paul’s latest novel, Scorched Earth: Takeover arrived here just in time.
Although I don’t have a new novel out quite yet, it is at least a happy coincidence that Song of the Sea Goddess has its first book birthday that day. The sequel is ‘still in production’ but it’s not too far away from release. You might even get a sneak peak at the cover soon…
Look out for my freebie e-book offer next weekend to celebrate that special book birthday.
As 2021 draws to a close, although there are aspects of the year I’d prefer to forget, I’m looking back with a happy and satisfied smile on the books I’ve enjoyed in this second half of the year.
I love to read almost as much as I love to write, and I firmly believe that the more good writing I read, the more my own writing improves.
Here’s what I read as our wet and windy winter gave way to a hot and breezy summer. The most recently read books are shown first.
The books I’ve read, listed on Goodreads
Once again I’ve enjoyed my half-year’s reading. Books I’ve frequently found via reviews and recommendations here on WordPress, including a nice helping of works by fellow indie authors. I’ve read a mixture of old books and new – mostly prose and poetry – a long, long history/geography of Africa, and a witty and instructive writer’s manual. Thanks to the latter, written by Kathy Steinmann, my latest MS is all the more sparkly and shiny!
More news on my new release coming soon.
As a writer I know how exciting it is to receive a review from a reader, and I offer a big, big thank you to my readers (and listeners, now I’ve two books published as audiobooks) who’ve taken the time and trouble to rate/review my books. That aside, to know someone has read one of my books is enough.
I continue to faithfully post a review of all the books I’ve read on Goodreads and usually on Bookbub, so long as the book comes up in a search. It’s good to recognise fellow writers and give something back for the enjoyment I’ve had from their words.
Happy reading, happy writing and a Happy New Year!
Nothing but a beautiful view of my favourite beach today.
A slow walk on the sand, tasting the salty air, the breeze brushing my skin. Strolling over warm silky grains, washed by gently breaking waves; picking up shells and peering in rock pools. Gazing out over the azure ocean, eyes resting on a ruby-sailed yacht. And later, sitting on a sun-warmed rock, waiting for the glowing golden orb to sink beneath distant Table Mountain in a sudden flare of scarlet.
Have a pleasant and peaceful weekend, wherever you are in the world.
‘Misquoting the Bard, Ms Hall?’ Connor strides across the floor and strikes a dramatic pose by the fireplace. The two bars of the electric fire glow ineffectually against the foggy October day which presses around the edges of the bay windows. Feeling the chill, I pull my cardigan more tightly around me.
‘Turn the fire up, Connor,’ says Cynthia. ‘Ms Hall’s blood will have thinned after ten years in warmer climes than these. I remember when I returned from Singapore, it took me years to readjust to our dismal English weather.’ She takes an emerald-coloured pashmina from the back of the chaise-longue and tosses it over to me.
‘Spot of something warming, perhaps?’ asks Connor, looking longingly at the half-empty bottle of whisky on the sideboard. I shake my head. He frowns. ‘I sense by your utterance you are caught on the horns of a dilemma. Pray tell us what troubles you.’
Before I can answer, there’s a tap on the door.
‘It’s open, darling,’ calls Cynthia.
Gina appears. She flings herself into an armchair and grins across the room at me. ‘Do you have some news for us, Ms Hall?’
I explain about NaNoWriMo. Three years running and three books written within each succeeding year. But last year NaNo was a struggle and didn’t get me off to the same start.
‘It sounds as if you might be taking on a little too much to commit to that for a fourth time,’ says Cynthia gently. ‘Don’t pressurise yourself.’
‘But you’d be picking up our story again,’ says Gina. ‘I mean you’ve just finished writing that other sequel, haven’t you?’
I incline my head. It’s true. The sequel to Song of the Sea Goddess has passed the final editing stage and is soon to be proof-read by another keen eye. I twist the pen I’m holding. ‘Ah well, not quite yet, and I’ve been considering putting a poetry collection together in time for next year’s World Poetry Day.’
Connor’s eyes light up. ‘Congratulations, splendid idea!’ Connor rubs his hands together. ‘I’d like to think my success with the slim volumes I’ve had published has inspired you. You know I’ve had an advance to compose a third..?’
Gina shifts in her seat. ‘But so much has happened in our story since our book came out,’ she holds out her hands. ‘Each time you’ve come round something new has happened.’ Her eyes fall on the notebook in my lap. ‘You’ve noted it all down, haven’t you?’
My new notebook with notes on my YNWA characters dated 2019-2021
I look down in my lap. Gina’s right of course, I have been keeping notes… and there are a few more. I smile at three of my favourite characters from You’ll Never Walk Alone. ‘Next year will be your year, but no NaNo this time.’
Listen here! There’s something a little different on Luna’s online this Friday.
We have a splendid sight and sound combo from da-AL’s Happiness Between Tails, in which she introduces her new podcast page. We also have a helping of carrot cake and a dancing delight: the tango – que romántico!
This week I did more writing on my novels … plus… happiness!… It’s been since forever — gulp! since quarantine! —that my husband and I haven’t danced. No classes, no practicing on our own, no nuthin’. And as much as we’ve missed it, we’ve missed…
Let me introduce you to these two fine gentlemen: on your right is my husband, Cliff (he had hair then!) and on the left is Andreas, the man who made the best chips we’d ever tasted! It’s because of him that the fictional little town in my novel, Song of the Sea Goddess, has a café owned by a Greek, who makes the ‘best chips on the whole of the west coast’.
Back in the late 1980s and 1990s, we spent almost every holiday island hopping around Greece. I was counting them up, and we’ve visited twenty islands over the years (several more than once) and adding all those visits up, we spent at more than a year altogether in that beautiful country. We’d go at the start and end of the holiday season, two weeks in both May and September, taking any cheap flight we could find. Then, armed with a laden rucksack, a few guide books and book of ferry timetables, off we’d go.
We became increasing adventurous over the years and would try to seek out the less well-known islands and the more off-the-beaten track locations. We avoided the popular places plagued by package tourists, seeking a more authentic Greece (and escaping the Brits on holiday). I’d do my research in the local library, poring over Greek guide books on a Saturday morning after the unavoidable weekend shopping. One year, a photograph of some unusually decorated buildings caught my eye. My reaction? We have to go there!
Pyrgi, the ‘painted village’ in southern Chios
And so we did! Here are a couple of photos from our visit. You can just make out the shaded roof garden at the top of the picture on the left. ‘Captured’ by Dmitri off the afternoon bus from the port of Chios, he offered us his rooftop room for rent. Accessed by a rather precarious metal stairway, it had all we needed, including a wonderful view.
On the right is an example of the xysta, the intricate wall decorations that first caught my eye. These adorn many of Pyrgi’s houses and are unique to this medieval village. These patterns aren’t painted, they are scratched into the surface plaster. They are everywhere!
The centre of the village is dominated by a large square, filled with chairs and tables belonging to a handful of tiny bars and restaurants which ring the square itself. In the evening, we found the square was filled with people eating, drinking and chatting while their children played on the periphery. It was here we came across Andreas, who owned the tiniest of restaurants in one corner of the square. His menu was simple, but fresh and delicious – and he made these wonderful chips, served with a generous dollop of tzatziki (thick Greek yoghurt mixed with salted and drained cucumber, garlic, mint and olive oil). Over several evening visits we came to know a little bit about his past, particularly about his time in the merchant navy, an occupation he shared with Cliff’s younger brother.
Spool on to November 2019, when I started writing Song of the Sea Goddess and although I’d not thought about him for years, Andreas suddenly stepped out from the doorway of a building by the harbour in my fictional little town on the west coast of South Africa. He seemed to be very at home and he hadn’t aged a bit!
You can take a little tour of Pyrgi on this clip I found on You Tube:
I hope you enjoyed that. Now, let’s see what my version of Andreas is up to in his little harbourside café.
Excerpt from Song of the Sea Goddess
Later that morning when Porcupine returns to the harbour, Andreas is picking up the battered tin bowl that has been licked clean by the scruffy little dog, which he’s taken to feeding with scraps from his kitchen. He raises a hand in greeting to Sam and Jannie.
‘There’s coffee still in the pot,’ shouts Andreas.
‘Should we tell him about the gold?’ Sam asks as they across the yard.
‘Could be he knows something about treasure like that. He was at sea far longer than I was and he sailed in different waters,’ says Jannie. ‘But I’m not so sure. You know he gossips like no tomorrow.’
Sam shrugs. ‘We don’t have to tell him the whole story.’
‘You mean say it’s something we just heard…’
‘…from a friend of a friend.’
The two men grin at each other.
The two conspirators enter through the back door of Andreas’s little café. Moments later they’re sitting at the counter while Andreas fills two tiny cups with thick, sweet Greek coffee and sets them down on the counter in front them.
‘So what’s new?’ asks the café owner as he resumes his slicing and chopping in preparation for lunchtime. Andreas serves up a simple menu from his native Greece: fried fish, kebabs, chips and salad. He makes the best chips on the whole of the west coast and if you can’t afford meat or fish, you can always dip your chips in his thick, garlicky tzatziki. It is this that he’s busy making.
Andreas frowns as Sam explains about the friend of a friend and the strange pot of gold coins which no-one can touch with their bare hands. The wiry old Greek listens until Sam has finished, then throws his head back and laughs.
‘Well, you must know what that is,’ he exclaims.
‘What d’you mean?’ Jannie asks. ‘I sailed around the South China seas and in the cold waters of the far north, but I’ve never heard of such a thing.’
‘Really? And you’ve never heard of the ‘treasure that can’t be touched’?’
Jannie shakes his head.
‘They say it’s the old gold of Atlantis.’
‘Atlantis?’
‘Yes, you know, the lost city…’
Jannie shakes his head. ‘That’s just a legend. It doesn’t exist.’
Andreas chuckles. ‘Well, gold coins that burn your fingers don’t exist either.” He shakes his head. ‘Come on guys, I’m having a joke with you.’ He pours them a second cup of coffee. Then he notices the coin shaped scar on Sam’s right hand. He points to the scar and raises his bushy grey eyebrows. ‘Don’t tell me. That’s how you got that scar?’ Andreas’s eyes widen. ‘That’s what you were off-loading earlier, is it?’
‘What do you mean?’ asks Jannie. He cocks his head sideways feigning innocence.
‘Well,’ Andreas leans forward on the counter, his chin resting on his hand, ‘when Porcupine first entered the harbour this morning, she was sitting very low in the water. I thought Sam here had made it big. A net full of snoek maybe. But after he tied up the boat, rather than landing his catch, he called you over, Jannie. Then a few minutes later, deep in conversation and looking a little shifty by the way, you were both on the boat and heading out of the harbour.’
Andreas pauses, looking from one friend to the other. He grins. ‘I figured it wasn’t an illegal haul of perlemoen, since that wouldn’t have weighed so heavy. Nor crayfish.’ He wags his finger slowly from side to side. ‘And in any case, neither of you would do such a thing, would you?’
Sam and Jannie remain silent for a moment.
‘Okay then, Sam,’ Andreas says. ‘Where did you find this treasure you can’t touch? And what have you done with it?’
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