Creative Writing: Work In Progress...

By Antonio Litterio

I wrote here about the very productive writing workshop organised by the Marcher Chapter of The Romantic Novelists' Association in Hereford, on 31st March. Here's an extract from the piece I submitted: it's the opening paragraphs of my current work in progress, The Survivors' Club...

Eden’s determination died with the car’s engine. She knew she should jump straight out, and into her new life. Instead, she took a death-grip on the steering wheel and scowled at the Waterstones bag lying on her passenger seat.

What a waste of money.

Buying that book was supposed to change her life. It said so, on the cover. So why wasn’t it working?

You could at least make an effort.

Eden swore under her breath. Snatching up the bag, she wrestled her new book out and propped it up in front of her. This damned self-help manual was supposed to evict her mother’s nagging from her brain, not echo it. 

The glossy dust-jacket of Why Are People Mean To Me? summed up Eden’s life in primary colours. A tiny human form cowered beneath a mob of Henry Moore-style giants. Recognising herself in that image had drawn Eden straight across the precinct, and into the shop.  

She sighed, and slid her finger over the title.

I wish I knew.

The cover prompt on Why Are People Mean To Me? said it was because she hadn’t read the book yet. 

Tom was always telling her it was paranoia.

Eden wondered who to believe. 

The only thing she knew for certain was that wandering round the shops on the third Tuesday in January had been a bad idea. Everywhere, from Twitter to the news headlines, said this was the most depressing day of the year. With ten people ahead of her in the queue for every job, Eden could believe it. That was why investing £14.99 in Arianne Forrester’s new self-help book had felt like such a brilliant idea. Right up until the moment she handed over her debit card. 

That was when she panicked. Paying for the book was the point of no return. Saying goodbye to fifteen pounds meant she’d have to act on its instructions. If she didn’t, all that money would be wasted. She’d wanted to change her mind, drop the book and run. Pinned down by the shop assistant’s expression, she paid up. Feeling sick at the extravagance, she was pulled off course only once on the way home. She needed to stock up on one vital item. An overdose of chocolate always made things feel better...at least until the next time she got onto the scales.

She elbowed her way into the house, weighed down by bags. The front door slipped away from her, and slammed. The whole place shivered. She winced, waiting for Tom to start roaring.

Nothing happened.

With the central heating on full blast, the house was a tropical paradise. The effort of carrying the shopping while bundled up to face the arctic conditions outside made her breathless. ‘Tom! I’m home!’ 

She was already half-way to the kitchen. When he still didn’t answer, she stopped. 

‘There’s chocolate cake!’

Her heart thumped, and not only with the effort of carrying her bags. She put them down. If mention of food didn’t get him on the move, he must be ill. That might explain why he’d shoved a couple of ten pound notes at her earlier, and told her to make a day of it in town. 

‘Tom?’

Only the hum of the freezer disturbed the thick atmosphere. Tom was supposed to be working from home today. Whether he was sick or well, Eden knew the strain of checking his emails would have sent him back to bed with some snacks and the remote control. It would be her job to offer tea and sympathy. Gathering up her stuff again, she hauled it all through to the kitchen.

Then she stopped, staggered. The place was a complete mess. 

Every utensil in the place had been dirtied in the process of making breakfast. The frying pan was blackened and crusty. Discarded wrappers of bacon and sausage flapped in warm currents of air.  Blobs of ketchup and fruit sauce added splashes of colour to every horizontal surface. Trails of pancake batter linked everything together, like a work by Jackson Pollock.

Eden took a step, and felt the crunch of egg shell. Lifting her foot to prise off the debris, she found a bit of waffle lodged in the tread of her boots. Although that was grisly, the silence was wonderful. She let out a long, slow breath. Tom must have gone out. 

With the house to herself, she flung off her outdoor clothes and danced through to the lounge. While he was away she could use his printer and copy out some recipes.

What he doesn’t know won’t set him off, she thought. 

She was in for a shock. Tom’s computer and its associated junk usually took up half the dining table. Today, it wasn’t taking up any space at all. 

Eden clapped her hands over her mouth. They must have been burgled. A million horrors ran through her mind. She raced around the house, pushing open doors and calling his name. If he was injured or unconscious he would never forgive her for wasting so much time. 

On the other hand, if he was dead...

Her heart lurched. She was unlucky. The house was deserted.There was no sign of Tom’s body anywhere....

What do you think? If you'd like to be kept up to date on how The Survivors' Club shapes up, you can sign up for my newsletter here.  

RNA Creative Writing Study Day, Hereford, 31st March 2014

Hard At Work...

In 2013, The Romantic Novelists' Association announced a generous donation toward  all its local groups. I'm a member of the RNA's Marcher Chapter, and we decided to put the money toward the hire of a room at The Courtyard, Hereford. The intention was to have a critique session. As it would be held so close to April 1st, the day was called  "Be A Fool For Love".

The prospect of spending a whole day with like-minded people talking about writing was irresistible, but we wanted to show we'd taken the RNA's  aims of promoting romantic fiction and encouraging good writing to heart. One month before the workshop, everyone emailed a ten-page sample of their current work in progress to organizer Ann Ankers. Ann collated them into a document which was then circulated among the group. The extracts were anonymous and we did a critique of every one, including our own. That way, we could make our comments without prejudice and still remain anonymous on the day.

Marilyn and Ann

Nobody likes the idea that their precious literary baby might be torn to shreds in a gladiatorial arena, so Historical novelist Joanna Maitland provided some invaluable advice beforehand. She advised that each critique should contain "three stars and a wish"–that is, highlight plenty of good points for every query or suggestion for improvement you make. This worked really well.

On the day, there were seven of us: Fay Wentworth, Georgia Hill, Christina Courtenay (fresh from winning the RNA's Historical Novel of the Year Award for The Gilded Fan), Joanna Maitland, Marilyn Rodwell, me and organizer Ann Ankers. Ann also acted as our chairwoman and did an excellent job. She  kept the discussions moving, and made sure the day ran to schedule.

Fay, Georgia, Christina and Joanna

We were treated like royalty by the hardworking staff of The Courtyard. Regular refreshments (including delicious home-made biscuits) and a fantastic lunch was included in the price, and we worked so hard the time flew by. A photographer from Herefordshire and Wye Valley Life came to record the event. This was organised byChristina Courtenay. That gave me pause for thought. As I'd played an April Fool joke on my DD that morning, when a guy tapped at the door and asked for "Christina" I thought for an awful moment  DD had sent a male stripper  to our meeting as revenge. Thank goodness I was wrong!

We all had an amazing day. I learned a lot, and can't wait until we can do it all again.

Have you attended a workshop? What was the most useful thing you learned?

Three Top Tips For When You Think You've Finished Writing...

By Antonio Litterio

1. BE PREPARED: live in hope of publication, and never stop writing. Before you send anything out, make sure you’re well ahead with your next book. When I first started writing fiction I didn’t do this, and I suffered for it. I went back to writing non-fiction instead, which was paying my bills at the time. When my first novel was accepted by a major publisher, they assumed I was already working on the follow-up, and wanted it as soon as possible. That meant I had to write day and night to produce Book Two. I barely had time to eat, much less sleep, or talk to anyone! Never let this happen to you. Always have another book of a similar style on the stocks. 

2. USE A BETA READER - and the emphasis here is on the word “reader”. Editors know what sells and they can perfect your grammar and layout, but someone who can report honestly on whether it swept them away - or how you can make sure your readers are swept away  - is invaluable. You can track down professional beta readers and editors in the small ads of writing magazines. Alternatively, join a creative writing group, and ask for recommendations. Word of mouth is always the best way, and sometimes tutors will offer reading as a service, for an extra fee. Whoever you get to read your work, make sure you can trust them to offer constructive criticism rather than simply telling you what you want to hear. It's better to find out the truth sooner, rather than later. 

3. LET IT BREW: you need time to think before you print, or hit "send".  Once your perfect manuscript has been made better still by the help of a beta reader and by your careful (but ruthless) revisions, let it sit for a while before you send it out. Put it aside. Forget about it. Ideally, get right away from your keyboard. Spend time doing activities that have nothing to do with writing. Ok, I'll let you do a bit of thinking about Book Two, but that's all. Then, after you’ve been away from your manuscript for a while, read it straight through from beginning to end. You'll be looking at it with fresh eyes. If you still think you're on to a winner, that's the time to send it out. 

My next Top Tips blog will discuss whether it's better to send straight to a publisher, or get an agent first. To make sure you don't miss it, sign up using the subscription box above. 

An Extract From My Latest Release - Jewel Under Siege

 Cover art by Samantha Groom 

Jewel Under Siege is set in Constantinople in the early spring of 1097. The city is besieged by Crusaders, so Elena thinks she'll be safe from strangers inside the high walls of her own garden...

"The fruit trees trained against all the walls of Elena’s garden were wreathed in blossom.  The little blue irises growing behind the arbour were almost in flower, too. They would make a pretty arrangement for Easter Day.

Her mind full of flowers, Elena was an easy target. When a figure erupted from the bushes, she was dragged out of sight in less than a heartbeat. With a hard, cold hand clamped over her mouth, there was no chance to scream. 

Fear froze her from head to foot. The man gripping her was breathing quickly, and as his wrist pressed against her cheek she felt his pulse racing. Eyes tight shut, Elena waited for something awful to happen. She couldn’t imagine what could be worse than this, but his overpowering smell of leatherwork and metal dressing was unnerving. She stood stock-still in his grasp until he managed some breathless French.

‘Keep quiet. I won’t hurt you. Understand?’

Somehow, she managed to nod. His fingers relaxed from her mouth. When she didn’t struggle or scream, he dropped his hand. His sigh said he was as glad to let go of her as she was to be free. She moved to get a better view of him, knowing she might need to identify him in future. He was a tall, youngish man, but his gaunt good looks were suffering from famine and war. Leaning heavily against the garden wall, he pressed one hand to his knee. The expression in his dark eyes was hunted and Elena saw that grabbing her had sapped most of his strength.

That gave her the courage to face him. ‘What do you want?’ she said in French.

‘Help–and everyone round here speaks Greek. I don’t.’ 

That could mean only one thing. 

‘You’ve broken in from the Crusader camp!’ Elena said in horror. ‘You’ve come here to steal! And after we were told your people were coming to Constantinople to help us!’ 

‘It’s not like that. We’re desperate. We need food. Your people are slowly killing us. We’ve been held up outside the city for months. We’re dying out there.’

Elena drew herself up to her full height. No unshaven hulk was going to come into her garden and start twisting the facts to suit himself. ‘Only because your leaders won’t promise that you will behave properly. That’s all our Emperor wants.’

‘I’m starving and injured,’ the young man burst out suddenly. ‘I need help, not an argument about politics!’

Elena stared at him. He was in a bad way, but trying not to show it. His left leg couldn’t support any weight and he was tight-lipped with pain. Leaning against the garden wall he tried to look arrogant and supercilious, but she could see he was on the point of collapse.

‘I’ve had nothing to eat for three days. I managed to get inside the city wall, but climbing over your boundary to get at the fish in your pools was too much. It was mossy and wet. I slipped.’

Elena was horrified. ‘You’ve had no food for three days? Have you had anything to drink?’

     ‘Rain. That’s all.’ He swayed unsteadily, his gaze piercing her heart. ‘Get me some food? A crust? Anything. Then I’ll go. On my honour. I’m not here to make trouble.’

Elena considered. He looked dangerous, but if she could somehow sidle further out of his reach she knew he'd never catch her again. She wondered if she could trust him, and also whether he could trust her. His clothes were sodden. They clung to his frame in a way that unsettled her. The strange feeling inside her made Elena wonder whether it was only Christian charity that made her want to help him. Mud buttered his cracked and shabby boots, while his teeth chattered in a chill breeze running in off the sea.

‘Does anyone else know you’ve come here?’ she said.

He flicked his head sideways. ‘It’s bad enough that I risked getting caught. I wasn’t going to get my friends involved as well.’

He lost the look of a desperate terrorist, reduced to snatching at innocent women. Now he was dejected, alone and injured in a foreign city. He'd given Elena a bad fright, but seeing the state he was in softened her heart. In case he was playing on her sympathy, she hardened her expression and folded her hands primly in front of her.

‘I’ll go and see what can be done for you. Stay here and don’t move.’

The young Crusader put a hand to his forehead. He couldn’t offer any resistance. Instead, in a gesture of acceptance, he pulled a knife from his belt and handed it to her, handle first.

She accepted his offering warily, and held it at arm’s length. ‘Thank you - I think...'"

I hope you enjoyed this extract from Elena and Emil's story. You can download Jewel Under Siege here, see a full list of my published books at http://www.christinahollis.com, catch up with me on Twitter and Facebook, and if you'd like to sign up for my newsletter, drop me a line at christinahollis(at)hotmail.co.uk, replacing the (at) with @.

Writing A Mission Statement-For Writing, Or Anything Else...

By Sandro Botticelli

A mission statement is a short, snappy way to keep your objective in focus as you work your way to success. Draw one up when you start your next big project. It will really help to keep you focussed. Make it personal - tailor it specifically to what you want to do.  Then keep it visible. Take some copies, and keep one on display in your office, beside your bed, as wallpaper on your screen - anywhere you'll see it often. 

Think up some daily incentives to encourage you - I use “half an hour watching my bees” “eat a peach” or “read for an hour”.  Choose bigger treats for when you’ve had a successful week: “soaking in the bath for an hour” “relaxing in the garden” or my own favourite, “a trip to the stationery store”. When you’ve finally completed your project, you can choose a really big treat as the ultimate prize to enhance your brilliant glow of total satisfaction. I take my OH out to dinner, although that's not much use if we're on diets! 

Of course, where there are prizes there have to be forfeits. Mine is to keep well away from my bees, but I've inserted a more popular horror below.

Here’s a basic template so you can create your own mission statement, with some ideas in italics to get you started. Substitute those words as necessary, and don’t forget to be specific. Personalising this declaration will make your project mean more to you, and that will help you to succeed.

MISSION STATEMENT

"I am going to write a novel/non-fiction book. My long term dream goal is to record my thoughts for my descendants/achieve publication/on all platforms, which I’m going to achieve by (date). 

In order to achieve my objective, I will draw up a schedule of what needs to be done each day, and set weekly targets, too. Every single time I hit my daily word-count, I’ll select one reward from my “daily” list. At the end of each week, if I complete all my tasks I’ll choose one treat from my “weekly” list.  After successfully completing my project, I’ll celebrate by spoiling myself with my ultimate prize. I will read my mission statement daily to remind me of the rewards I have planned, and my ultimate objective. If I miss any of my weekly targets without a very good excuse, my forfeit will be to stay completely offline for one whole day. If I miss my final deadline, my forfeit will be to  stay completely offline for one whole month."

Then date and sign it, to make it official.

I’ve given you a couple of ideas for rewards and forfeits. What will be going on your own list?

Three Top Tips For Getting Started...

By Antonio Litterio

...on any project...

THE BIG PICTURE - whatever you want to do, whether it’s write a book, start your own business, make money, learn to cook, or grow your own food, have one specific aim in mind. Then stick to it. Benjamin Franklin is supposed to have said, “By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.”. Label a folder (real or virtual) with the name of your project. Gather everything into it-notes, images, charts, infographics, the lot. Once you can find exactly what you’re looking for in seconds, it’ll save a lot of time time when inspiration (or desperation) strikes. 

ZOOM IN - Put a filing system in place the second you start collecting stuff for your project. It doesn’t need to be fancy. Separate files within one on-line folder will be fine. A plastic wallet with dividers will store your so-called “dead-tree derivatives” (that’s paperwork, to you and me). A DL size envelope within this system is perfect for keeping scrappy notes, receipts and parking slips safe. Incidentally, expand that idea to twelve envelopes, each one labelled with a different month, and you’re on the fast track to filing your annual tax return without tears. All you have to do is remember to transfer the relevant receipts from the car, your pockets or purse into the right envelope. But do that as soon as you get them. 

You know why.

FOCUS - Write down your big idea. Seeing it at the top of a blank sheet, or screen, will make it real. It’s smart to set goals, and the acronym S.M.A.R.T (used by George T.Doran, Paul J. Meyer and others) can help you reach that target. There are all sorts of alternative meanings for the initial letters, but they all come down to the same thing in the end. These are the headings I use when I’m planning a new piece of work:

SPECIFIC–this is what you want to achieve. It’s your dream. Spend some time working out exactly what it is you want to do. Be positive, and distill it into one sentence such as “I will write a book.” There's no room for want here. Think positive.

MANAGEABLE–will you be able to do this in the time you have available, and with the facilities you have? If not, either set the alarm an hour earlier each morning and borrow what you need, or revise your objective–but think carefully before doing that because A is for... 

AMBITIOUS–Go for it! Aim for the stars - if you miss, the moon will break your fall. Find an inspirational quote and post it up where you’ll see it every day. Edmund Burke’s “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good people to do nothing” glares down at me all the time I’m writing.

REALISTIC–Ambition is indispensable, but there are limits. I come from a family of comfortably upholstered women. Much as I’d like to be a size eight, it's never going to happen. Believe me. That’s why I modified my own aim, from “getting down to 130 pounds” to “following a calorie-controlled healthy eating plan and taking more exercise for one month.” I lost 5lb without ever feeling I was on a diet, so all I need now is the willpower to repeat...and repeat...and repeat.... as necessary!

TIMETABLED–deadlines, like the threat of execution, concentrate the mind wonderfully. Draw up a list of what you need to do, and work out how long it will take. Mark the finish date in every form of diary you have. Tell yourself it’s absolutely non-negotiable. Obviously there will be times when work has to take a back seat because of illness or accident, but personal disasters apart use every carrot-and-stick you can think of to motivate yourself and hit your deadline.

Writing (and Rewriting) Romance As Ebooks...

Photo by Bertil Videt

I love putting my own spin on historical events by using them as the background to romance. At the beginning of my fiction-writing career, I wrote six books for Harlequin Mills and Boon's Masquerade imprint under the pen name of Polly Forrester. These were originally only available in the UK so I'm currently working to introduce them to a wider audience by bringing them out as ebooks. Lady Rascal is already available and my next title, Jewel Under Siege, is due for release later this summer.

Jewel under Siege is set in Constantinople, at the time of the Crusades. Elena is a young widow who finds herself in an impossible situation when tough warrior Emil literally falls into her life. He is an enemy who has nothing but contempt for her people, but the lure of the forbidden means Elena and Emil are soon attracted to each other despite all the dangers.

Revisiting my earlier fiction means I can add a few little touches to the text. At the moment I'm taking the chance to make Elena and Emil's romance sizzle still more under the Turkish sun. How do you like your historical romances - hot or homely?

You can keep up with the progress of Jewel Under Siege towards publication by subscribing to my newsletter. Just send an email to me at christinahollis@hotmail.co.uk with the word "Subscribe" in the subject line.

If You Want To Write...

by Sandro Botticelli

...just do it. Anyone can put pencil to paper or finger to keyboard, but it helps to have a few personal qualities before you start.

1. LOVE - of words, and of reading. Playing with language and seeing how others create characters, mood and atmosphere will help you develop your own style. It isn’t the number of words you write each day, or the length  of them but the feeling you put into your work. If your writing comes from the heart, the chances are you’ll speak directly to the hearts and minds of your readers.
2. COMMITMENT - anyone can call themselves a writer, but only when you actually complete the story that’s been begging to be told will you feel you’ve earned the title.  Always start with a fixed end in mind, whether it’s entering a short story competition, or writing a book. Don’t let anything distract you from your goal. Write every day, and get a first draft down as fast as you can. Then go back over it again and again, improving your work every time.
3. PATIENCE - once your work is as good as you can make it, put it away and start on something new.  After a month, go back to your first piece and re-read it aloud to yourself. If you’re aiming for publication, when the re-writes are finished, give your manuscript to a trusted friend who reads the type of work you’ve written. Accept their constructive criticism as part of the learning progress - it all helps to please your eventual audience. 

The Easter holidays are a traditional time to make a fresh start - what are you going to be working on this week?

Happy Easter!

I hope you're having a lovely day, and that you can spend it exactly as you like (with plenty of treats on hand, of course).

My Easter Day wish is for good weather. There are two baptisms taking place during our big morning service, so the village church is going to be packed. I can predict it will be wonderful - it always is, as we've got a great team working behind the scenes as well as behind the altar - but today will be extra special. There'll be a sea of new faces, and we'll all have a terrific morning.

Have a happy and peaceful Easter.

New Year, Fresh Start

It’s taken me ages to write this first sentence. All my get-up-and-go got up and went just after Christmas. The fun and games are just a memory, and the next holidays aren’t even a glimmer on the horizon.  The weather isn’t helping - it’s cold, dull and dreary outside. We had some snow overnight, but that soon turned to rain and has now disappeared completely. It wasn't anything like as pretty as the photo you can see here!

Getting motivated on this murky Monday morning is proving really hard. I’ve dug out my trusty  Success Principles book by Jack Canfield for inspiration. Putting the things I need to do today in order of urgency has helped me focus and it was good displacement activity, if nothing else! I’ve also swapped my usual grey hat and black jeans for a ridiculous red cap, mulberry shirt and scarlet baggies as a gesture - though what the cat and hens will think of it is anybody’s guess.

 Getting out of the office and writing in the greenhouse will give me a new perspective on things, though until the new heater arrives it’s hardly a tropical paradise. Despite that, the sight of all the plants waiting to burst into life makes me anticipate strawberries and cream, fresh figs and maybe even some bunches of grapes. There might be honey from our bees this year, too - I didn’t harvest any at all in 2012. The terrible weather put so much pressure on them I didn’t want to stress them any further.  Luckily we've still got a few jars of honey left from the 2011 harvest. Honey has a long life-span, but in the great tradition of positive thinking I'm planning for bumper crops of it, and everything else as well this year. 

What's your favourite remedy for the mid-winter blues? I'd love to hear it - and there'll be a little prize  for a comment picked at random!

Running Update

Look at this! It's my personal best time for the mile, set early on Saturday morning.  I'm so happy I'm bouncing around like Tigger! Fourteen weeks ago when I started the Running Made Easy's 60 Second Secret Plan, I could only walk, not run. Back then, it was taking me twenty minutes to walk the same measured mile, so I've halved my time. As this includes hopping off the pavement to dodge brambles and hopping onto the verge to avoid cars, there's still some room for improvement.
My timed mile was part of a lovely early morning run with OH. It didn't start out so well - we'd shared our first  bottle of wine for weeks over dinner the night before, and it hit us both surprisingly hard. We crawled out of bed with heads full of cotton wool, but the 6am chill soon woke us up. Running the whole mile with no walk-breaks meant I achieved TWO personal bests on one session.
Have you ever set yourself a challenge? How did you get on?

Domestic Abuse Is So Much More Than Violence - Pass It On.

By Lilyu (Own work) [Public domain],
via Wikimedia Commons

I'm writing this blog on impulse after hearing Tina Nash interviewed on BBC Radio 4's Woman's Hour. Tina was blinded by an abusive partner, and her story really resonates with me as I could so easily have been injured or killed in similar circumstances. 

I've been happily married for many years now, but before I met my beloved OH I tried to escape one dreadful relationship by running headlong into another. What Tina Nash says is perfectly true: abusive partners develop a hold over you so stealthily that you don't realise how they've sapped your confidence until it's too late. They alienate all the people who could help you, convince you that you'll be sectioned or have your children taken away if you try and speak out, and exert an almost hypnotic power which convinces you that their way is the only way. 

Abusers don't always need to use violence to get their own way. Emotional blackmail is an equally powerful tool  - just look at the havoc allegedly wreaked by Jimmy Savile. Anyone in a position of power - parent, teacher or celebrity - can prey on the vulnerable by using the chilling words "It'll be your word against mine, and who's going to believe you?" They'll chip away at your self-esteem until you assume there's no escape.

THAT ISN'T TRUE!

If you're reading this and you recognise yourself, or somebody you know, get help. NOW. In the UK, contact Refuge. In other parts of the world, check the phone book or type "Domestic Violence Helpline" into a search engine on a public access computer, rather than in your own home.

And please pass this message on - you may save a life.

A Touch of Historical Romance...

The extract from my current Work In Progress, Spirit, provoked such a lot of interest I thought I'd follow it up with a snippet from my most recent ebook, Lady Rascal. This book originally appeared as a hardback and paperback, but it was sold only in the UK. Now it's available worldwide, downloadable from Amazon (Kindle), iTunes, Barnes and Noble (Nook) and loads of other ebook suppliers, too.

Lady Rascal is set in the summer of 1789, at the beginning of the French Revolution. As Paris descends into chaos, poverty-stricken Madeleine finds herself in a deserted Parisian dressmaker's shop. She grabs the chance to dress up in the glamorous accessories and impractical shoes she has only been able to dream about until now...

 Madeleine suddenly saw something she couldn’t live without a moment longer. Picking up one of the candles, she took three wobbling steps out from behind the safety of the counter. Balancing precariously in front of a long mirror, she took down the wisp of gossamer that hung beside it.

It was a shift of some description, needing only the hem to be finished. But what a shift! Almost transparent, the fine fabric rippled through Madeleine’s gloved fingers like water. It was all she needed to complete her outfit.

In a moment her work dress of coarse brown stuff had been cast aside. It took her a few minutes to work out how to get into the shift, which had no fastenings but pulled on over her head. At last she managed, arranging the folds of fabric about her painfully thin body.

It clung to her like pale mist, flowing with every movement and making graceful her stumbling steps in the borrowed shoes. She was entranced, and so beguiled that the running footsteps outside went unnoticed. Only when a foreign voice called out very close at hand did she jump out of her dream.

Then panic turned her to water. To be found here, dressed like this would be certain death. Like an idiot she had not thought to douse the candles, and now it was too late.

The door flew and a large shadow rippled through the shop towards her.

With a scream Madeleine dropped the candle she held...

Spirit and Lady Rascal are very different in both content and style. If you've read both, I'd love to know what you think of the contrast!

Writing Fiction - Work In Progress

Today's blog is a bit of a departure from the norm. It's the opening of my current WIP, which is a full-length, contemporary novel.  Spirit is based around the idea that personal disaster brings out the best in people. My heroine, Ruth, loses everything she values. She only achieves her happy-ever-after when, like hero Mitch, she realises she was looking for it in the wrong place...

By kazuh

One minute Ruth Parrish had it all - complete with a thumping headache, a fresh set of scratches on the SUV and credit cards maxed out on new school uniform. Then her world evaporated in a whiff of Hugo Boss.  She was left with no future, two children to support, and a cake.

  Ruth’s disaster struck in the middle of a clear blue day. She and the children tumbled back into the house, hot and bothered after the trials of shopping and a grisly visit to grandma.  Gasping for tea and painkillers, she stopped the children bickering by sending Grace upstairs with the new laundry marker. Grace was old enough to mark her own school kit, although Ruth knew it would be faster and less stressful to do it herself, once the children had gone to bed. 

Jack was younger, but he could always be bribed with a comic to give Ruth a few minutes’ peace.  She ferreted his latest one out from the tide of carrier bags lapping around her feet and pushed him through the open living-room door. Then she dragged the shopping into the kitchen. It was always her sanctuary, but today it was chaos. Her partner Alan must have been up to something. He created havoc wherever he went, and could turn his back on disaster without a thought for her, or anybody else. 

Trying to ignore the mess, she shoved aside enough of it to make room for today’s star prize. One of her carrier bags contained a cake box, encrusted with gold decoupage and pink ribbons.  She put it down on the table like a holy relic, and smiled for the first time that day. The box cradled a gateau au chocolat. It was supposed to be for tea - a trophy to mark the end of the summer holidays.

Although surely it couldn’t hurt just to look at it... 

Ruth resisted temptation long enough to go and switch on the kettle. Then she went back to ease open the carnation-coloured lid of the cake box. Inside was a triumph of the patissier’s art. Glossy ganache had been set with tiny macaroons and curls of chocolate, then sprinkled with gold dust. She inspected the cake long and hard from every angle. It was decorated with so many little extras, nobody would miss one or two. 

Licking the tip of her finger, she reached out to the gateau with the stealth of a bomb disposal expert.

‘Mum, I want Monsters from Mars!’  Jack’s voice rang through from the other room. 

Caught in the act, Ruth jumped like a frog. 
‘Have it! Your Dad’s sure to have left the television on standby.’ 

She went back to gazing at the gateau.  Mentally dividing the cake into slices, she sighed.  The portions looked so meagre. She wished she still made her own cakes, but if there was one thing worse than Alan’s complaints it was seeing him moan with his mouth full. He blamed Ruth’s cooking for the fact his new clothes were a size larger each time she went shopping for him. That never stopped him eating everything she put in front of him, then looking round for more. Telling him that, and adding that his age might have something to do with his weight gain, only made things worse. 

Grace materialised at her elbow.

‘I thought you were sorting out your school stuff ready for next week, love?’

‘I’ve done it. Now I want to go on the computer.’  

Plump, pale Grace stared into the heart-stopping cake box. ‘Where is the computer, Mum?’ she murmured, distracted by their calorie-packed coming attraction.

‘What do you mean?’  As Ruth looked up from the gateau, Jack stamped in from the living room.

  ‘Where’s the telly?  I want Monsters from Mars!’  

A cranky eleven-year-old was the last thing Ruth needed.  ‘Your dad must have been moving stuff around while he tried to find the best position for his damned plasma screen.’ Sighing, she abandoned the cake like a lover.

 They had left Alan “working from home” that morning. His latest toy had still been in its box then, filling the lounge. Ruth could guess what happened next. Alan would have carried on checking e-mails until he was sure she and the children were well on their way. Then he would have abandoned his work computer for the new TV. Setting it up would have sent him back to bed exhausted. She called upstairs to him on her way through to the lounge.

‘Alan?  What have you been up to?’ She laughed - but not for long.

I'd love to know what you think of it: there's a signed book from my backlist for a comment picked at random.

3 Top Tips For Success

1. TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR OWN ACTIONS - How often have you heard someone say “I could have anything I wanted if only I had more money/more time/a better looking partner...or any one of a hundred other excuses. We all like to indulge in a bit of wishful thinking, but dreaming doesn’t change anything.  Appreciating what we’re blessed with already and building on it is the only way to get results. For instance, if (like me) you can’t understand why it’s impossible to lose weight, get checked out by a doctor to rule out any underlying medical condition, then try keeping a food and exercise diary for a few days.  It really helps, and I speak from experience!

2. BELIEVE  - it doesn’t matter what your goal is, the important thing is that you set one. Then buckle down and channel everything you’ve got toward achieving it. “Begin with the end in mind”, Steven Covey says in the 7 Habits of Highly Effective People We’ve just seen the proof of that in the hundreds of athletes who have fought for years to reach the London 2012 Olympics. Make sure your mind is trained on your ultimate prize, whatever that might be. Wanting to write a book isn’t enough. You must believe with all your heart that you can do it. A solid core belief is the only thing that will get you through the hours and hours of writing, re-writing, rejection and editing it needs to reach a goal like that. Half-hearted procrastinators need not apply! 

3. DO IT NOW - whatever "it" is. By the law of unintended consequence, it’ll take twice as long tomorrow, and three times longer next month. When you keep putting off the evil moment when you must balance your budget, send that email, or break off a relationship, the harder it becomes - and all the time the dread of doing it casts a deepening shadow over your every waking minute. When you’ve got a lot of frogs to eat, the saying goes, eat the ugly frog first. Making the initial effort is always the worst part of any task. 

Whatever you want to achieve in life, you are the only one who can really make it happen. Identify what you want, go for it, and you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that whatever you achieve, you’ll have given it your very best shot.

Epublishing - Fix or Flash?

My blog on Smashword founder Mark Coker's speech at RWA2012 got a lot of interest. Thanks to everyone who commented, both here on the blog and direct to me by email. There's obviously such a lot of interest in ebooks, I'm running another link. This piece by Elise Sax in the Huffington Post gives a view from the floor, rather than the podium: http://huff.to/OLZ4Yw

There are millions of people who love to write. It used to be said that if you had a story to tell and the skill to tell it well, you would find a publisher. Only the best and brightest (and luckiest?) got through their rigorous weeding-out process. The hope of becoming one of the chosen few kept writers sending typed manuscripts to  publishing houses by the thousand.  As the death toll of office juniors killed by collapsing towers of accumulated scripts rose,  many of the big firms closed their lists to unsolicited work. Literary agents then became the gatekeepers. To get a shot a publication, books no longer had to be merely well-written and entertaining. They had to  promise huge sales, as well. Did this extra hurdle put authors off? No. The manuscripts carried on accumulating to the point where agents, too, could pick and choose which writers they took on. Employing an editor before approaching an agent became the way to progress - another step in the ziggurat between writing a book and seeing it appear in print. Is it any wonder that faced with this increasingly long drawn out route to publication, vanity publishers made a fortune from the unwary?

Then came the Internet revolution. Now anyone who wants to put their work out into the public domain can do so, by blogging or publishing an ebook. The author's plaintiff cry of  "Who will buy my story?" has now become "Here's my work - pass it on."

As Elise Sax's article says, being published by a big, respectable firm still has a lot of cachet. Representation by an agent means you've got a knowledgeable person on your side to help you fight your way through contracts, clauses and obligations -  but do readers care how a book gets into their hands, as long as the story is good? Is this the best way to bring more books to more people, or will the explosion in ebooks be just that - up like a rocket, down like a stick? 

Smashwords: The Future of Ebook Publishing at RWA 2012

Here's a fascinating insight into the present and future of publishing by Mark Coker of Smashwords: Smashwords: The Future of Ebook Publishing at RWA 2012
At first glance, there's no limit to how much the self-published ebook author gains from this bright new dawn. The route to conventional publication is tough, and prone to detours and roadblocks. Cut out the middle men (and women), publish your own work and you'll bypass a lot of heartbreak.

On the other hand there is an unpleasant truth that must be faced. Conventional publishers have many reasons for turning down books, and one of them is quality control. Russell Lynes, one time editor of Harper's Magazine said: "Every journalist has a novel inside him, which is an excellent place for it." The rush to publish isn't necessarily good, or advisable. Victoria Beckham or Prince William could easily become million sellers overnight with self pubbed editions of "What I Did On My Holidays", but it would be an awful lot harder to shift many copies with that title if the author didn't have either a glamourous media image, a title, or both.

And another thing. Despite the explosion in titles on the market surely the number of readers worldwide must remain pretty constant. Once the initial thrill of the new technology has worn off and everyone who's likely to buy an ereader has one, maybe the market will settle down - and that's before we get around to pricing. There's an old saying: "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?" There are thousands of books on the internet downloadable for free, whether legally or illegally. The relentless driving down of prices is good for the reader, but not so good for the author and disastrous for small independent booksellers.

It's good to see authors taking the initiative, but how long can these trends continue?

Why I Made My Latest Heroine A Swot...

When I was a child, anything I turned up in the garden or on holiday beaches had to be washed and inspected - from blue and white china to hagstones. The best bits were stowed in a box of "treasure" under my bed, with tons of  other out-of-context junk. My favourite TV programmes were In Search of the Dark Ages*, Chronicle and the pre-dumbed down Horizon (Paul Vaughan, thou should'st be narrating at this hour). Spending all my time out of doors meant I was never pasty, but I was a swot and suffered for it at my sport-obsessed school. 

Years passed, I met my perfect man and settled down to my ideal job as a writer. We started a family when Time Team was still Time Signs, so you can tell how long ago that was. Years of exposure to Phil Harding and co. had a subliminal effect on our daughter. She is studying archaeology at university, with time off for good behaviour spent in the excavation at Silchester. Writers aren't the only people whose job is also their hobby!

It's always seemed a shame to me that armies of diggers and academics work so hard in unglamorous situations for so little reward. For every Staffordshire Hoard, there must be a million middens to be excavated. That's why Josie the trowel jockey in The Count's Prize turns Cinderella, and I hope you all enjoy reading her story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

*And IMHO, Michael Wood is still orders of magnitude better looking than Sir Mortimer Wheeler.