Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Tuesday, 29 January 2019

Critiques and Opinions

Following my recent blog tour, which I thoroughly enjoyed, I'd like to thank all the bloggers who took part and welcomed me onto their blogs. I appreciate the time you took on my behalf, and to Rachel at Rach RandomResources @rararesources for organizing it. There were some lovely reviews and some of you have very attractive blogs.

That brings me onto critiques and opinions. They're something we all have to face as authors and they are often quite difficult to accept. Those wonderful reviews whose glow we bask in really lift our day but that one negative comment festers and makes us question our abilities. We all know why we write the way we do, why we choose our particular genre, how much of ourselves comes through in the writing etc, but everyone is different and just as we all feel drawn to different people - or not - so it is with writing. Our stories won't appeal to everyone; what pleases one irritates another.

I'm not much of an actor so there is a lot of me in my books and my author voice. I'm not confrontational unless crossed, then I can give as good as I get. I generally like a peaceful, quiet life but that doesn't make for a good story in either fiction or memoir. As far as memoir goes I've had plenty of struggles: loss, relationships, ill health, and in fiction I've given them to my characters, but I'm wary about inflicting misfortune upon them as so many times with aspects of my stories life has mirrored art.

Whether it be reading or writing my own particular preference is for a lighthearted easy read with dashes of humour and a hint of the supernatural. I wouldn't purposely choose graphic horror, violence or sex; I'm a gentle person, I like gentle stories, even the crimes in my books have been gentle, if you can call a crime that; maybe less savage would be a better description. I don't do blood and gore or Christian Grey, my love scenes have to mean something, they are sensual not steamy, so if this is the style of story you like mine might seem a bit quiet; I like a conversational tone and a family saga. I think my stories fit the cuppa and a cake book, something to curl up on the sofa with beside a roaring fire on a winter's day or lie beside the pool in the hot sun in summer. They won't scare you witless but I hope they'll keep you wondering and feeling a kinship to the characters within the pages.

N.B. I am in the process of reformatting all of my earlier books. I have only just discovered The Book Khaleesi who have formatted the three books featured below and I am going through my others one at a time so it will take a while; I hope you will bear with me.

 
 
 
 

Thursday, 23 August 2018

Free Promotions? Or Not?

Free promotions. Do they bear fruit? It's so long since I ran one I can't remember so I thought I'd give it another whirl.  I've recently revised Angel Breaths and A Lapse of Sanity to publish with Smashwords and Draft2Digital when my KDP Select enrollment expires so time to give them a little outing methinks.


Angel Breaths was inspired by a news item on abortion laws that asked the question, 'At what point does a baby have a soul?' It set me thinking. Was it as soon as the two cells met and began to divide? If so how would it feel about being rejected or miscarried?
Angel Breaths is narrated by Angelique, the spirit of a miscarried child as she watches over the earthly family she can never be a part of. She also watches over her soulmate Louis as he treads his earthly life, connecting to him on a spiritual level.
A spin off from this is my award winning short story Into The Arms of Angels which was runner up out of 900 entries in our local newspaper The Sentinel's Too Write competition in 2017. It can be found in my short story collection Just A Moment, priced at just 99p


Angel Breaths is free from 24th-28th August 2018 so enjoy a read on me. A Lapse of Sanity to follow shortly.
If you do enjoy it I'd be very grateful for a review please.
Many thanks.

Sunday, 8 July 2018

The Weekend Guest

I've got two fur grandsons, Rooney and Ralphy, belonging to my sons and their families and I look after the dogs - separately - when they are away. It was the turn of Ralphy to stay for the weekend this time while his Mum and Dad were at a wedding.
Ralph garden
He usually brings a few toys to add to the ones I've got here and one of his favourites is a parrot which has got a look of a window cleaner I had doing my windows many years ago so I named it Doug after him.
Ralph and Doug
Ralphy is a quick learner and soon got used to the new command of 'bring Doug' and he'd fetch the parrot for me to throw so that he could catch it, his favourite game. His other toy is a moose which was a goodbye present from his much loved dog walker when they moved house. I named it Milly. It took him a while to get used to 'bring Milly' not so easy a sound as Doug but he was learning. Here are his thoughts on the matter.
Ralph and moose
Ralphy: I'z back here at Nana Shuffs house. Not much goes on here and I does a lot of sleeping but it is my meditation retreat - she sits in her recliner chair, I snoozes until somebody rings the bell or walks past the window then I sez 'I iz here and in charge. Nobody passes unnoticed.' I need to tell Nana Shuffs of their presence you see. How duz she know else?
When Nana is  playing with those light up boxes that all hoomans play with I know there is no point in me bestowing a toy upon her - doesn't she understand what an honour that is - but as soon as she takes her glasses off (I hear them click when she folds them) time to stretch, yawn and select a toy. Which to choose? I az a green thing with a big nose, Nana calls it 'Bring Doug' so that must be its name like I iz Ralph. As well I az a soft thing with a big nose that az lovely stuff that I can rip out of its innards and make patterns all over the floor - she throws this stuff away, I never knows why. I did az a nasty mishap today and a bit of the stuff got stuck in my throat and I coughed and coughed until my eyes watered but it went in the end. Nana Shuffs calls this soft chewy creature 'Bring Milly.'
I az to say I iz a mite disappointed. I heard by dog grapevine that she put live entertainment on for my cousin Rooney, a running creature that he chased down the garden.
Ratty in the snow
I'd love to have done that! All I've ever chased have been flapping creatures on the fence or a thing with a bushy tail. Not close enough to have a little nip at but quite fun, especially when Bushy Tail had to disentangle himself from the tree, woof woof!
Squirrel feeder
Ah well, it's tiring jumping round the room after Doug and Milly. Time for bed methinks. Nighty night.
Ralph snoozing




Thursday, 13 April 2017

You've Written One Memoir, Should You Write Another?

Better or Dead, my second memoir follows on from Shadow Across the Sun, beginning on my wedding day.  Not everyone likes memoirs but I love them, not celeb lets-make-an-easy-million ones or the typical Jeremy Kyle stuff but those of every day people, I love to read about how they deal with both the good and bad that life throws at them.
I got married for all the right reasons; I adored him, but as I stood there taking my vows an errant thought flashed through my mind, 'This is absolutely right now but how can I say I'm going to feel the same in 20 years time?' I pushed it away and got lost in the day.
The first flaw appeared with my first pregnancy. My loving husband decided half way through that he wanted neither wife nor baby. I was devastated, at a time that should have been the happiest of our lives. I wanted to feel cherished, loved, both me and my unborn child, not rejected.
Time passed, divorce was inevitable but worse than my failed marriage was my failing health. I didn't mourn the loss of my marriage but I grieved relentlessly for my former life, the life when my body hadn't let me down, and I still grieve for that life to this day.
M.E, myalgic encephalomyelitis, also known as chronic fatigue syndrome, C.F.S, destroys lives. Sufferers look well so are not believed by society and worse still by the medical profession. I couldn't believe it when I read, 'Your first hurdle will be getting your G.P to accept it.' How could they not? I was ill. How could they dispute that? But dispute it they did and the years that followed, by then a single parent, were the biggest challenge of my life. 
I've updated the cover to give it a more personal touch. The background image is a photo my son took when he was out dog walking in the Derbyshire Peak District, somewhere I used to love in my well days but can sadly no longer walk in myself. The inset picture is of a makeover I had when I was 50, slap bang in the middle of M.E, so you see on days when I'm well enough to get out for an hour there doesn't look a thing wrong with me. Here's a short excerpt from the book.
'I’d thought that my strange weak attacks were a thing of the past and I’d be fine after having a rest during August. Everything had got on top of me: the divorce, the solicitor, the building society, the worry over Dad’s and Auntie Eth’s illnesses; I’d been spinning out of control on that speeding carousel of stress. However whilst I thought I’d be fine, my body had other ideas.
Occasionally I’d leave the boys playing in their rooms on their video games if I was only going to be out for a few minutes. One such time I only needed a few things from Wilkinson’s in town and would be no more than half an hour. I parked up and was just about to get out of the car when an overwhelming wave of exhaustion swamped me.
‘I can’t do it,’ I thought.
The vision of the shop full of people and queues at the tills engulfed me.
‘What if I go weak again and can’t get out quickly enough?’ the voice of panic said.
‘Don’t be ridiculous! You’ll be fine,’ said the scathing voice of reason.
I got out of the car and walked up the street at the side of the bus station on legs of jelly. Every step was forced and the words alternately pounding my brain were, ‘I can’t do it.’ ‘Yes you can.’ ‘I can’t do it.’ ‘Yes you can.’
In the end ‘I can’t do it,’ won and I turned round and almost ran back to the car trembling from head to toe. It resulted in another visit to the doctors.
I saw Dr Collins and he gave me some tablets called dothiepin and referred me to the community psychiatric nurse, (CPN) who gave me a relaxation tape to follow. She also said that to turn round was the worst thing I could have done. I didn’t agree; to have gone on would have produced a negative experience like the one in Asda. She gave me bits of advice after assessing me and when I said that I couldn’t do things, or get to places she had this to say.
“If your sons needed you now, at this minute you’d get there.”
Of course she was right but it would be the after effects that would be the problem, the weakness that would follow. Clearly they were treating this as a psychological illness and no-one was addressing the physical problem of the weakness. However, I expected the two things to have a magical effect on my weird feelings.
To try and help myself I bought endless packets of Lucozade energy tablets and drank Lucozade glucose drink to give me energy. I also tried tonics but nothing helped.
On the second day trip to Llandudno the weather had changed and it was overcast and chilly. Barry, the boys and I went in my car this time and I drove. As I followed Alistair down the A55 I was fighting to stay awake. I was never so thankful to see a McDonald’s where we stopped for breakfast. I think it was the influence of the tablets but I felt uptight trying to stay awake. I thought I’d have a doze when we got to the beach although it wasn’t sunbathing weather and we were wearing jackets as opposed to the swimwear of the last visit.
I’d expected to fall asleep straight away considering I was so tired but I was wrong; my brain was on overdrive and I couldn’t drop off. Instead I leaned up and watched with the others as Alistair flew Cassie’s pink bunny rabbit kite and she clapped her hands with delight. The wind was so strong it pulled the string right off the handle and the kite fluttered delicately over the rooftops, much to his and Cassie’s dismay.
They both said, “Oh no,” Alistair in a resigned, helpless tone, Cassie in an altogether more grief stricken one as she watched the wind carry her kite out of sight.
We all fell about laughing except for Cassie who had to be pacified with the promise of a new kite.
After our picnic lunch we wandered round the town as we had before. Matt wanted to go into a shop to get a footballer’s name printed on the back of his new Man U away shirt and as we stood in the queue I could feel myself getting weaker and weaker.
“I’m going to have to go back to the car,” I said and Alistair agreed to wait in the queue with Matt while all the rest of us went back to the cars.
“I can’t drive,” I told Barry, “you’ll have to.”
I must have felt ill to allow someone else behind the wheel of my precious car but I couldn’t have driven if my life had depended on it. Presently Alistair and Matt joined us, Matt all smiles sporting Lee Sharpe’s name on the back of his shirt. We stopped somewhere for chips and I felt fractionally better after a rest and something to eat but I could neither walk nor drive so Barry drove home.'
If you are interested in the paperback it will be better to buy from the publisher feedaread.com (link below) as any stocked by Amazon marketplace may be the old cover. It's also slightly cheaper from feedaread and P&P is about the same as Amazon. The ebook is available from Amazon with this cover.
If you purchase, many thanks and I hope you enjoy it and fellow M.E sufferers may relate to my experience, also divorcees/single parents. A review on its Amazon page would be most welcome, thank you.