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Posts Tagged ‘agents’

For those who have read THE PEBBLE travel is clearly a key theme throughout the book. So with the help of friends and readers Alex, our female flawed hero, takes to the streets of Europe’s cities and key buildings. 

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All runny nose and stuffed belly I write on the 1st of January. Now, we all know what this means. It means new thoughts and new plans, and yes I also scribbled down the gym membership, reduced fat and less debt. However, I have decided to be more aggressive in what I really feel I want 2013 to be. What is that? Well it is that 2013 will not be what I can get but what I can achieve through others!!!

That reduced my list down from twenty something…. right down to ONE.

#WRITE TO INSPIRE NOT TO PERSPIRE!

What I am really saying is this. As a novelist it can be tempting to write what is popular and sells well (now I still want to sell well). However, I want to see the young adults, and older, who jump into the worlds and thoughts of my novels finding a spark within themselves that screams “I can do it!”

I love the gifts that reside in the youth of today and world changers of tomorrow. My giddiness multiplies when I think of the 16 year old reading THE PEBBLE who may actually be the future President of  America.

The blessed life of an author is being allowed to share that space with a reader that says “Maybe I can do it, maybe I have it within me!”

There is a world of potential out there and I am going to write to motivate it to action. I am not going to sweat to market it!

I look forward to meeting you in the year ahead, even if it is only in the world of possibilities of my novels…

May you have an effective and peaceful 2013!

 

 

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Inspired by Nat King Cole…

Here is a little story that popped in my head while listening to this song…..

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New York City Dec 1942

“Cold,mam I am cold!”

Rubbing her floured white hands on a red apron that had seen many a kitchen escapade, frayed as it was into tassels, his mother answered as she walked across the fourth floor room-come-apartment. “I know, I know George pet, I know.” Swooping up the hair licked, ginger mopped, eight year old and embracing hard, she continued. “But come away from the window and get ready for bed. It’s Christmas Eve and soon Santa will be here.”

A container of rumbling excitement, balancing cliff edge style on the back of a tattered arm chair, George forced his button nose squashed flat against the watery window pane. “But I have to be awake when I get my present mam. It is what I asked Santa for.”

Not that it made much difference, toys were low on his twenty something year old mother list, but Louise was curious about this top secret Santa list. George had given it into a store Santa. War time had not stopped the ritual visit to Santa just the resources to meet them. While there George slipped it into Santa’s hand, said not a word, no lap sitting either. Just a drop off and it left Louise wondering and with two weeks to Christmas she thought she would have got it out of him, but no, silence!

And here we were on Christmas Eve and he still kept his list to himself.

“But I will do you a deal”, George chirped, lips whipped into a cheeky grin. “I will put on my night shirt and do my teeth, eh!” Jumping off to his room, Louise ruffled his hair, sighed a half laugh, and went to cut him off from a return to the living room.

Cut off at the bathroom, George was detoured to his bed and persuaded to have a slight rest before Santa arrived with the mysterious gift.

Within minutes he was off in snooze land and Louise wiped a tear away as she shoved some fruit into an old stocking and carefully hung it by his bed. So little, but war is war and metal was precious and so was money.

Footsteps!

Heavy footsteps on the hall outside the apartment ran through George like a volt of lightening and woke him with a start. Santa had brought his present. He knew the sound of heavy boots so well. He had heard them rumble through the hall ways for months now, and then float off in the distant sounds as he watched an untwisted door handle. However, this night was different. This night, Santa was sorting things out, so George sat up, rubbed his eyes and confidently awaited the front door to open. He listened and peeked through the barely open crack of his bedroom door as his mother remained dozing on the couch.

“Oh she is going to love this!” George said, hardly able to whisper. His voice breaking into a squeak.

True to his letter, the boot stomps were coming nearer and nearer. And then the thrill!!! Army green. Santa had done it…..

George knew the colour of an army uniform and he could see it as his mother, awakened by the knocking, opened the front door. The arm stretching in and then, so strange, it retracted and Louise closed the door.

“Santa?” asked George, watching bemused as Louise slumped to the floor crushing the card in her hand…..

“No George, it ….it ” Louise replied through snot and bubble tears.

“I know he got it wrong”, George stammered. “I should have been more clear it my letter, but I couldn’t spell and I wanted it for a surprise for you.”

“George?”

“Daddy to come home, my Christmas list”, George wrapped himself around the bundle of sobbing mess that Louise had turned into. He was only eight, but he knew when mammy needed hugs. “And Santa just brought a card from him, I am sorry mammy!”

Daddy never did come home, like so many others that Christmas he just sent a card…

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Day Zero– eBook launch is ..NOW and the world and Winter Solstice has passed over….

Ok, we are all still here. Oh wait! We are all here aren’t we? I am not just frantically looking at my stats and wondering about the ‘deathly’ slow rise in those mesmerising bar graph things. I will assume no zombie, flesh decaying fingers are struggling over the keyboards of the world and so I will carry on.

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I got up quite late for a nerve filled launch day, at 8.00, and then it dawned on me. The world is still here, the clouds have blocked the Winter Solstice and my book is launching…TODAY.

So, what is THE PEBBLE really about, and why did  I bother to write it at all? (a question I often asked myself in a manic author fueled rage).

Really it is about discovery. The drive for all of us to find an identity and a place of belonging. Now that sounds all fluffy and wool hats, so the story is..

A girl is orphaned at birth and trundles through her life, with some very strange events tagging along behind her. And then….identity and angel wings. That is just the start……. with ancient tri-spiral prophecies, Winter Solstice, Angel Blades, huge deception and many a twist and turn. I am excited, I am nervous and now time to get back into the promo stuff and posting simple things on my blog

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I took out a few minutes from a hectic marketing schedule for my new novel THE PEBBLE to just pause. Pause in silence from the ‘buy my book’ push, which all us authors are required to do with a launch, and reflect on the most important of matters. That being you and your family. If you can reach out and hug your child, your parent or any sibling or friend then life is quite full for you. 

The press in recent days has been crushed with the ‘experts’ unraveling why families grieve at the shooting of their little angels in a horrific school attack in America. I for one don’t care why he did it or what were his motives. I do however, want to know how these families are coping, what do they need and can we as a community of human beings lift them up and somehow, if possible, make life bearable.

I want the memory and name of that killer (I refuse to said it) lost forever but those heroic teachers to be forever the standard for child protection in schools….

A simple article, but with a very ambitious request I feel.

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The Fifth Commandment of Staying Married. Know Your Mother-In-Law.

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4th commandment of staying married.

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