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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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Just a quick peek at a random spattering from THE PEBBLE.

Even if she was ignorant to it, the arrival of Galiu into the apartment had propelled Dolores into Alex’s world. She would need to have some level of easy entry to the world of angels, Hybrids and future assassinations, err, ‘nullifications’. The book provided such an entry because it only hinted at Alex’s world, laying out a Hansel and Gretel type crumb for Dolores to follow. The first pages that Alex read on her discovery of the book were as the finger licks off a baking bowl, a taste bud tickle of a future creation.

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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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6 Days To Go!

How could I forgot about the End Of The World?

So sloppy of me!

Now I have a massive flaw in all my planning. You think I would know better. Living beside Newgrange in the midst of the mysticism of The Winter Solstice and all things celtic myth and romance, I should have know that 21st Dec and the Mayan Calender could have been a fly in the ointment in the release of my novel The Pebble on ‘end of the world day. ‘

The inspiration started in July, a novel with a message and a cracking fantasy twist that leaves the reader thinking and wondering. The long nights, the impeccable timing to hit the sales while the fever of Mayans and sun rises was tipping the scales, all seemed so perfect.

Why do people now have me raked with worry?

Can it be that my readers will just reach chapter 10 and the whoosh……world ends!

Where will my reviews go, how will I rattle with nerves at each notification on Facebook…..

Though maybe I was right and there is more to sun rises and hidden chambers than Hollywood blockbusters and people chanting in a field. Maybe people will finish The Pebble and find it asks them even more questions… oh my brain is swelling…Time for sleep, well half sleep until tomorrow and the voyage of writing and wrangling thoughts continue to sail.

Slainte….

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Mystics, genius or mere mad men that could not conform and perform in the natural habitat of the world.Call them what you will, both James Morrison and Joyce have, like good french wine, matured into a palatable taste beyond the grave.

For Joyce, an artist of the pen who painted colour and worlds with as much torment and skill as any brush stroke. Refusing to play the game of borders with the English language, he conjured up an imagery of a long dead Dublin, now mauled by the greed of the celtic tiger and all it’s falsehoods. A Dublin, we can journey back into in the richness of his works. 

Or was he simply a perverted, cynical and tossed mind that in the ’empires new clothes’ world of literature has now become an icon, a building of ink and thought. Work which any schoolboy essay would be scolded and returned to sterilize  correctly and make it ‘safe’ for the reader.

I see him as a ‘Custer of the west’ of literature, a ‘ride to the sounds of the gun’ pen man, who desired to be rested in the lands of the immortals and heroes. Not PC, or a safe warrior, but rather a conversation piece and a blurred enigma that has achieved it’s goal. Immortality.

Jim Morrison, drug addict and alcoholic  who wrote poetry so crafted in obscurity that he often could not explain it himself was fascinated with death, and yet also now  unable to die, forever young in the minds of those lost to their own existence.

Both men consumed by their energetic madness and yet, in the still of death the spark of genius still flickers brightly, teasingly close to engulfing into an inferno of thoughts in those who would go close enough to touch it.

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Now this is the big one, The Mother-In- Law (caps intentional), the forever-hanging pendulum of criticism. If you are going to crack this nut of married life, then the wife and her mother are a package you need to unwrap……very carefully.

Ok, so you know why your new house has a broom cupboard. No, it is not to store utensils or the new ironing board, but as a parking bay for the mother-in-law. It is where she will park her mode of transport for visiting your house for the rest of your married life. Her broom!

Now, the mother-in-law has some disabilities that need to be recognised. Mainly, she has very poor eyesight. Don’t agree? Well you just watch the next time she visits during the summer months. The conversation will go something like this.

“Is he not going to cut that grass…(fill in wife’s name)” quite oblivious to your tired-only-on-from work ass.

Or when you are heading out to the boys for a ball game.

“Is he gone out AGAIN” as you stand two feet away. “And you sitting in, huh”

But the good news is…..they can be trained. Turned into a lesser model of your own perfect mom. It will take time and stealth but it is achievable.

How?

Watch out for the things that your wife does that annoys her mother. This weakness is your strength. Call over for coffee and ‘cry on her shoulder’ because (insert wife’s name) has just done (insert annoying thing here) and hey presto you have found holy common ground. The benefits are amazing. Extra babysitting visits and a comrade in arms in the inevitable squabbles of married life among many.

I will finish with an old joke.

“I have to say I am so lucky. My mother-in-law is an angel”

“You’re lucky, mine is still on earth!”

Disclaimer. None of this resembles my own mother-in-law in any manner. She is a saint who agrees her daughter is very annoying when………….

Keep the faith men. You can make it!

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