She’d always been a great Maker of Lists: (her memory was awful) to do lists, shopping lists, books to read, movies to see, places to go, even lists of lists!
She’d always said: ‘if I put it on the list, it will happen’. And usually it did.
But now, on this, her birthday, another milestone passed (largely unmarked), it dawned on her.
Perhaps now, not everything on her great List of Lists could be achieved (especially the books).
Future plans might have to be a little less ambitious.
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Image credit: Google images The image shows a chalk board with a caption, “Before I die” on the top. Below are slots where people can write their opinions.
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.
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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.
Ceridwen shivered as she closed the door, Joey was a nice lad, a bit rough around the edges but he had a good heart – and he had Cullen’s approval; she smiled at her feline companion, she’d had him since he was barely weaned, having seen him cowering in the bushes all alone and mewing piteously, she’d known immediately that his little soul had been reaching out to hers.
She drew her cardigan around her narrow shoulders, armour against the unexpected feeling of foreboding that had accompanied Joey’s passage across the landing.
The feeling persisted as she fed Cullen, and as she nibbled on her own frugal supper; she glanced ceiling-wards where she could hear Joey moving about, the feeling was one she couldn’t quite describe, almost a vibration in the air, something she hadn’t experienced since that young woman had brought the strange little amulet to her.
The nagging feeling accompanied her through her dreams, faint glimpses of things that made no sense.
In the morning, sipping her herbal tea, she heard Joey’s rapid footsteps on the stairs; moments later the front door slammed. It was immediately apparent: what had been troubling her had left the building along with Joey.
Two weeks ago I was celebrating the Song of the Sea Goddess’ first book birthday with a live book launch and signing shared with two other authors.
For those of you too far away to join us, I offered a free download of the ebook over the same weekend. This virtual celebration was quite a success too, with almost 50 downloads over the 3 days. I forgot to look at the Amazon rankings on the first day, but the next day the book had reached #124 in its category. Back to the many thousands now, of course.
A further bonus was that I garnered a couple of new reviews on Goodreads, including this blushingly brilliant review by Chris Nelson on his blog.
This is not something that I would normally do (but who knows what the future holds), but I have just finished reading this wonderful book by Chris Hall and wanted to share my thoughts:
Part fantasy, part adventure and part allegory, Song of the Sea Goddess is an imaginative and eloquently told story about the unfolding of the lives of a group of seemingly unconnected characters following one bizarre event.
Chris Hall develops each character through individual chapters that slowly become interwoven and lead towards an unexpected climax. Particularly enjoyable is how seemingly random events show up which give a wonderful insight into the past lives of several of the characters. Indeed each character comes to life as the story unfolds and, as most of the book is written in the present tense, the reader’s connection with them develops in a sort of ‘real time’.
Arriving at his flat, one of many in a long street of dilapidated Georgian buildings, a grey cat wearing a velvet collar twined around Joey’s legs: ‘Alright Cullen, mate!’ he grinned down at the feline as he unlocked the door. The cat bounded up the stairs and stopped outside Flat 4 where it mewed expectantly; Ceridwen’s face appeared, her smile turning to a puzzled frown as Joey passed her door.
Inside his attic flat, Joey shed his parka and dropped onto the worn couch; shoving the crumpled quilt aside, he ripped open a grease-sodden packet of chips, laced with lurid-looking sauce and wolfed down a few mouthfuls, before leaning forward to switch on the TV; the flicker of the grainy monochrome picture the room’s only illumination as he devoured his supper.
Retrieving the prize that the river had given up earlier, Joey held it in the palm of his hand – a crouching camel, carved from greenish-brown stone – surely a find of great antiquity. His fingers tingled and his heartbeat quickened, a smile lit up Joey’s face; he felt energised, optimistic!
Joey stared at the camel, its mouth was slightly open; the little carving seemed to be grinning back at him.
She sits alone, staring into the crimson flames, a glass of ruby wine in her hand, the half-empty bottle on the wooden floor beside her. Muddy rivers run down her cheeks from red-rimmed eyes. She takes another sip and puts the glass down. Carefully. She rips off the pretty new blouse which he’d failed to notice – his eyes were elsewhere all night – flings it into the fire where the fabric curls like dead leaves; buttons pop in the heat. More wine sloshes in the glass.
betrayal revealed in long lingering glances scales drop from her eyes sorrow seeps into her heart dying embers fill the grate ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Image credit: Tathanhtaun @ Pexabay The image showsa pair of spectacles to which a pair of rose-colored clip-on attachment is affixed. You can see a view of skyline near a shore through these colored clip-ons.
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!
Joey hunkered down in the corner of the heavily-graffitied bus shelter, trying to evade the spiny tentacles of the stiffening breeze blowing off the river Mersey and up the eponymous street that led from Otterspool Promenade onto the busy pavement-cracked main road.
Jealousy coiled its long yellow fingers around him, clutching at the frayed edges of his grungy army-surplus parka as he watched the rich folk in their fancy cars hurtling past him on their way back to the city, while a dull summer sun slipped slowly into the west, raising an ironic eyebrow and casting a rose-tinted light over the poverty-stricken suburbs and abandoned factories of the urban fringe.
Now fumbling his pockets for his last fag, Joey’s grubby nail-bitten fingers fell upon his latest treasure; a smile twitched about his lips, smoothing his habitual scowl and suggesting the possibility of a less desolate future for its twenty-something wearer. His latest jaunt down to the low-tide river, grubbing about among the detritus lodged in the sludgy mudflats, had yielded his best find yet.
He gripped the object tightly, a glimmer of hope kindling; he’d be popping around to visit Phil ‘The Fence’ tomorrow.
solo traveller striding through life’s long journey youthful confidence casts trepidation aside to reach the ultimate goal
he seizes the day glorying in his triumph all demons vanquished
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Image credit: Suliman Sallehi @ Pexels The image showsa person standing on top of a rock, his feet straddling two projections. In the background, you can see the skyline and down below some houses.
luna's on line 