Open Book Blog Hop – 18th November

Today’s topic is:

How many hours a day do you write? How long on average does it take you to write a book?

Back in 2013 when I first started writing, I could rattle off a novel in about 3 months.  I was desperate to get each novel ‘out there’ because I was sure that everyone wanted to read them.  However, 6 years down the line I’m now of the opinion that nobody gives a rat’s ass whether I publish a book or not, because they’re all too busy with their own writing projects, work issues, or just ‘life’.  Therefore I take my time and write for my own enjoyment!

I juggle writing with my job as a medical secretary on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays.  On those 3 days I don’t write much and just check my social media sites when I get home from work.  On Tuesdays, Fridays and the weekends I will write for however long I feel like in-between domestic duties and keeping fit.  This might be half an hour or it might be 5 or 6 hours.  It also doesn’t bother me if I don’t write at all; there’s no pressure to create, and that’s how I like it.

What’s the point of giving yourself writing targets to attain as an Indie author?  You’re just heaping stress upon yourself.  Life’s too short to worry about how many words you’ve written in one day, because believe me, nobody gives the aforementioned rat’s ass…

If it takes me a year to write a book I’m okay with that.  I’ve written many books over 6 years, and I’m happier taking my time.

How long does it take other blog-hoppers to write a book?  Click on the blue button below to find out:

Rules:

1. Link your blog to this hop.
2. Notify your following that you are participating in this blog hop.
3. Promise to visit/leave a comment on all participants’ blogs.
4. Tweet/or share each person’s blog post. Use #OpenBook when tweeting.
5. Put a banner on your blog that you are participating.

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

Sunday Book Review – Examining Kitchen Cupboards by Stevie Turner

Source: Sunday Book Review – Examining Kitchen Cupboards by Stevie Turner 

Conduct Unbecoming

 

One’s memory has lapsed,

One doesn’t recall

If one had sex with that girl

Or not at all.

 

The photo shows one

With an arm around her waist

Upstairs in his house

One denies it took place.

 

Whoops, one has made a mistake,

How would one know …

If it was upstairs

When upstairs one didn’t go?

 

One danced with her at Tramps

In a fevered sweat

But one doesn’t perspire

It’s a medical complaint.

 

Deny, deny, deny

That’s all one can do

When the press start hounding

And that woman does too.

 

Amnesia strikes

It’s plain to see,

One didn’t have sex,

It wasn’t me.

 

Having witnessed the denials

The country is bemused

Mother however,

Is not amused.

Sunday Stills Photography Challenge – 17th November

This week on Sunday Stills the theme is ‘Calm’.  

Living in Suffolk, I like to look a freshly harvested field as shadows from the hay bales fall across the stubble.  There’s something calming  about just standing there in peace after the combine harvester has gone …

Also sunsets have a calming effect too.  Here’s one from Ryde seafront on the Isle of Wight:

Last but not least is one of my favourite seats at Shanklin Chine, Isle of Wight.  To sit there and contemplate the meaning of life is rather enjoyable:

 

Whole mess of lil fiddles… #humor #parenting

Oh, I remember those days of trying to get my sons to practice their piano pieces. The eldest son was quite good at it, but computer games would always win. The youngest preferred the guitar, and he mastered it very early on. He played in numerous bands before becoming a father himself and now stresses the importance of learning a musical instrument to his own sons. Lol – the whole vicious circle starts again. Apart from the guitar, he now plays the piano by ear and can play any tune with both hands, after never mastering being able to read piano music.

Barb Taub

In life, there are many social events which are easier to attend if you don’t have to play the leading role—births, weddings, funerals, and music-student recitals. As a public service to parents about to attend their child’s first recital, I would like to offer a brief description of your duties.

• DO NOT BREATHE during your child’s performance.
• Mothers: fix your eyes on your child’s face and silently mouth each note. You lose points for wincing.
• Fathers: Make a microscopic study of the floor next to your feet. Try not to think of the 3,000 times you have heard the piece played perfectly by the same child who has stumbled three times in the first line.

I was forced to become a recital veteran because I let my daughter watch TV. When the three-year-old saw Itzhak Perlman play the violin on Sesame Street, she decide to become a violinist. I was…

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Friday Book Share – 15th November

On Fridays I do my bit to promote Indie authors/bloggers by posting either Click & Run, Streets Ahead, or Book Share.  This week is the turn of Friday Book Share, and so today authors or bloggers can share a link in the comments to an Indie book they’ve read and enjoyed (not their own).  They can even add their review too, if they’ve written one.

If you see a book featured that interests you, please give it a tweet or perhaps even buy it. You’ll be doing an Indie author a huge favour!

For my part I’m sharing a link and my review of  Jaye Marie’s ‘Silent Payback’:

Description:

A serial killer roams the streets of Brighton, hunting for his next victim.
When the case lands on detective David Mallory’s desk, will his personal demon prevent him from bringing this vicious monster to justice?
As the body count rises, Mallory finds himself sinking under the weight of his heavy secret – one that could jeopardise his job and his reputation.
With the pressure building, can the troubled detective reconcile his issues and solve the case before more women die?

My 4 Star Review:

<a href=”https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/48562568-

David Mallory is not your average detective.  He’s struggling to find a serial killer while trying to deal with an issue in his personal life that keeps coming to the fore.  He also has feelings for his work colleague Anna Lukas, but she has problems of her own too.

The plot moves along at a good pace, and it kept me interested enough to keep turning the pages to find out who the killer was, and whether David and Anna have a future together.  The characters were well fleshed out,  and I could sympathise with David’s ‘problem’, as we have a family member undergoing the same experience at the moment.

The only quibble I have, and for which I gave 4 stars and not 5, was that there was quite a bit of  ‘telling and not showing’; for instance when David and  DI Snow talk about David’s ‘problem’, when Snow and David interview Will Taylor, and when Anna interviews Agatha Blackstone.  I would have liked to read more in-depth conversations there.  However, all in all it was  good read, and I recommend it for fans of crime/thrillers.

Streets Ahead Street Team – D.G Kaye

This week in Streets Ahead we’re sharing D.G Kaye’s memoir ‘Words We Carry‘.  Here below is a description of the book by the author herself:

“I have been a great critic of myself for most of my life, and I was darned good at it, deflating my own ego without the help of anyone else.”

What do our shopping habits, high-heeled shoes, and big hair have to do with how we perceive ourselves? Do the slights we endured when we were young affect how we choose our relationships now?
D.G. takes us on a journey, unlocking the hurts of the past by identifying situations that hindered her own self-esteem. Her anecdotes and confessions demonstrate how the hurtful events in our lives linger and set the tone for how we value our own self-worth.
Words We Carry is a raw, personal accounting of how the author overcame the demons of low self-esteem with the determination to learn to love herself.

Here is my own 5 star review for this book on Amazon UK:

The dysfunctional childhood suffered by author D.G Kaye has left her with great insight into the human condition, which she writes about with much accumulated wisdom in her inspirational non-fiction book ‘Words We Carry’.  We read how parents, teachers, and events in our childhood shape the adults that we become.  I suffered quite a few similar events in my own childhood that the author did, and found the whole book excellent and eerily uncanny to my own life experiences.

Ms Kaye believes, just as I do, that we should put on a smile, think positive thoughts, and dress to please ourselves and not others.  It doesn’t matter if we are not blessed with outward beauty, a happy and friendly demeanour will shine through and attract new friends.  Beauty is as beauty does; nobody gets pleasure from being around a miserable complainer, even though they may be the best looking person for miles around.
By the time the reader reaches the last page, they would have the recipe in their hands to give their self-esteem a huge boost.  Over the years I have learned to feel comfortable in my own skin, just like the author had to, and to ignore or walk away from people whose only aim in life was to make disparaging comments in order to make me feel bad about myself.

I received this book in a free promotion, but I will definitely read it again.  Thoroughly recommended!

The Chips are Down

Apparently one of our big supermarkets, Sainsbury’s, has not served chips (French fries) to children in their cafes for the past 18 months.  Kids have 5 options: Nuggets, fish fingers, sausage or veggie sausage, bolognese or macaroni and cheese.  They can have these with half a jacket potato, sweet potato fries, or veg sticks.  Each meal also comes with juice and a piece of fruit.

Sainsbury’s are obviously trying to do their bit to combat childhood obesity.  However, some parents are now up in arms complaining that the supermarket should not tell them what food they can give their children.  When a mother pointed out that chips are on the adults’ menu, she was told that children are not given chips at Sainsbury’s.  Mothers are also complaining that hypocritically, the supermarket will happily sell them frozen chips to cook for their children at home.

If this is the opinion of the parents, no wonder children are becoming fatter.  Maybe some parents need educating on what to feed their children?  Whatever happened to casseroles made of lean meat, fresh vegetables and stock?  What happened to grilled or baked fish without batter?  Instead fast and cheap junk food is taken out of the freezer and put in the microwave to collect around our children’s arteries and bring them to a possible premature death in their fifties or sixties.

These parents are offended in being ‘dictated’ to by Sainsbury’s.  They are of the opinion that nobody is going to tell them what to do, even though the supermarket is trying its best to ensure their child does not eventually end up in the cardiac ward.  Ignorance rules, and they will buy chips for themselves, put some on their kids’ plates, and smile with the knowledge that they have defeated the ban.  They grew up on chips themselves… it was alright for them, and so it’ll be alright for their children.

Gawd help us.

Jim Webster and the ‘Port Naain Intelligencer’ Blog Tour.

I’m pleased to be part of Jim Webster’s blog tour today and to share ‘Bringing the Joys of Civilisation‘; one of the new stories from his ‘Port Naain Intelligencer‘ series of books, which can be found here:

Bringing the Joys of Civilisation

I have done many things in my time, but I must surely be one of the few people who can claim to have brought the joys of civilisation to an entire municipality. Some kind souls have suggested that the place my benign influence has been most profoundly felt is Port Naain. Candour compels me to admit that whilst I might well have spread the healing balm of literature to some small areas within the city, my influence has, by and large, been mainly superficial. It must be further confessed that for many people, the words and actions of Tallis Steelyard, leading poet of his generation, are nugatory. But the same cannot be said of the small community of Slipshade which lies on the coast between Port Naain and Prae Ducis.

This small coastal village lies north of the river Travitant. Facing it across the river mouth is Travitant Quay. Both of the two villages have castles on the headlands above them, reminders of the area’s wild past. The castle on the south side of the inlet is large but essentially ruinous. The castle above Slipshade is in better condition, perhaps because it is smaller and more easily maintained.

Up until a few years ago Slipshade castle or Keep was the dwelling of the Kastair family. This family fell upon hard times when the Balstep clan, notorious pirates, smugglers, and insurance fraudsters, gradually took over the village of Slipshade and used it as their base. They diverted for their own purposes the feudal dues the villagers would normally pay to those who held the Keep, and at the same time proceeded to farm the farmland owned by the Kastairs. Combined with this they took over the existing protection rackets and put their own bullies on the doors of the temple to collect ‘peace offerings’ from all the worshippers. Thus, within a year or two, and with no more than a couple of inconclusive skirmishes, the Kastairs could no longer afford to maintain a force strong enough to even man the walls of their keep and were forced to decamp by night for Port Naain. The Balstep clan moved into the Keep, and Darstep Balstep appointed himself Lord of Slipshade Keep.

The Lady Kastair joined Port Naain society and as is inevitably the case, she was lucky enough to attend an event that I organised. Indeed at the same event, I also performed some of my latest work to general acclaim. Obviously, a lady of good taste and breeding, she was both deeply moved and properly impressed. Thus, on a number of occasions, she asked me to perform at affairs held in her residence. Whilst not regular, I would be summoned at least twice a year.

Finally I got an unusual summons. The Lady Kastair had me brought through to her private study. There she asked me to perform a most unusual service. “Tallis, I have an event to organise and I’d like you to organise it.” This was obviously the sort of thing a jobbing poet likes to hear. I composed my expression to be one of enthusiastic competence. “I’d be delighted to oblige, Madam.”

“I knew I could count on you”. In short, every ten years the Kastair family must organise an entertainment for the populace of Slipshade. It is one of our feudal duties and if we fail to provide the performance, it weakens the legitimacy of our claim over Slipshade Keep. Thus I want you to lead a party south to put on this event. Remembering that you are to amuse the inhabitants of a fishing village I would recommend a very wide programme. Money will be forthcoming to enable the expedition to be mounted. I will pay all those going on this trip two alars a week and you as the leader will get an extra alar per week as well as a sensible sum to cover expenses.” On one hand the money was excellent, especially is it was agreed she would pay in advance. On the other hand, the entertainment was going to be in Partann, rather than Port Naain. Also it was obvious that I couldn’t merely take poets, I would need a full range of performers. Not merely poets but singers, musicians, and even novelty acts like Flobbard Wangil. In the case of the latter, years of practice have given his mouth and throat an almost obscene flexibility so he can swallow an egg whole. Whilst not what you might call high art, an eating contest of some sort always draws a crowd and he was the man whose performance in this field would set the standard other competitors would have to meet.

So who to include in my company? I gave considerable thought to the issue. For dancers, I asked Calina Salin if she could lend me a troupe. After some prevarication she agreed, but insisted I pay her and she would pay them. Between ourselves not only is she a fine dancer, but she is a very competent business woman. Personally I suspect that she was nervous at the idea of her girls earning too much; she has often commented that many a dancer has been spoiled by easy money earned too young. So she tended to collect the money herself and dole it out in small quantities to her girls. Whether she felt that once one reached one’s middle years one was better able to cope with the temptations of too much ready cash, I’m not really sure. Still she seemed to feel that she was strong willed enough to ensure that a surfeit of money wouldn’t change her for the worse.

For musicians I approached Old Jerky. He has played drum and whistle in rough bars, honkytonk piano in rough bordellos and the fiddle in seedy dancehalls. Not only that but I’ve worked with him before. His face is as battered as that of a prize fighter and he rarely bothers with airs and graces. But he is both competent and reliable. Unfortunately respectable hostesses look askance when you introduce him to their home; preferring instead some pretty boy who can neither sing nor play, but will flatter them and seduce their daughters. I asked him to find me a singer he could work with, and then to put together a small group who could support both singer and dancers. In his case I just told him the pay was two alars a day, and he promised me he’d have his ensemble ready within a day or two. Flobbard Wangil was hard to find but easily hired. He was lying low after being accused of begging without a licence. Frankly I was somewhat surprised at his audacity, beggars are precious about this sort of thing. I’ve known one cast aside his crutches and run as fast as his two sound legs could carry him in his enthusiasm to inform on an unlicensed imposter. Flobbard was glad of an excuse to be out of the city for a while. He was staying with his sister, Malinflua Wangil. She is a most accomplished prestidigitator or stage magician, and he suggested that I might like to hire her as well. I had seen her work and was delighted to.

I returned to Lady Kastair with the names of my company. I had also given some thought to how we would proceed. We’d need a number of horse drawn carts, and my fancy was to travel slowly to Slipshade, performing as we went. This, I felt, would give us chance to bond as a company, and perhaps even earn a little extra money on top of the honorarium we were to receive. When I arrived at the appointed time, I was surprised to find Lady Kastair closeted with Eran Klun. I know Eran, a pleasant young man and a man-at-arms in the service of Lord Cartin. I greeted him warmly.

“Eran, it is good to meet you again. Are you coming south with us, we need a good man on a bladder pipe. Alternatively can you dance? Whilst I have already filled the ranks of my gallant band, I am not averse to adding another fine artist to their number.”
Eran rose and bowed to me. “Alas that the harsh dictates of duty forbid me from taking you up on your most generous offer. When I was a child, my sister, ever my harshest critic, was forced to admit that she had seen worse dancers than me.”

At this point Lady Kastair interrupted, “Tallis, I have been giving thought to the logistics of your trip, and I felt that Lord Cartin, a dear friend, was the obvious person to ask for advice. So Sir Eran here is present to advise us.”

It did make sense. After all, Lord Cartin would move considerable numbers of men across Partann. Admittedly they were more numerous, more heavily armed and better disciplined than the party I was intending to lead, but I was sure some of the experience was transferable.

Eran spoke. “We’ve considered various options and it’s been decided that we’ll send you south on the steam packet, the Unrivalled. Lord Cartin charters her from time to time anyway, so it’ll be quite economical and we are pretty sure that you’ll be there in time to perform on the correct day.” Well that put paid to my plan of earning money whilst being paid for travelling. Still one has to learn to bend with the wind, no matter which way it blows. “I trust the Unrivalled will remain with us to fetch us home.” “Actually no, but I’m sure you’ll be able to make good money performing on the way back. After all, once you’ve finished at Slipshade and we’ve paid you off, your time is your own and you might want to go on an extended tour.” He paused, and then added, “After all after your inevitable success at Slipshade, you’ll be the toast of Partann and I’m sure you wouldn’t want to miss out on a chance to build on your triumph?”

 

And now we’d better hear from Jim Webster. So here I am again with another blog tour. Not one book but three. The first is another of the Port Naain Intelligencer collection. These stories are a bit like the Sherlock Holmes stories. You can read them in any order. On the Mud. The Port Naain Intelligencer https://www.amazon.co.uk/Mud-Port-Naain-Intelligencer-ebook/dp/B07ZKYD7TR When mages and their suppliers fall out, people tend to die. This becomes a problem when somebody dies before they manage to pass on the important artefact they had stolen. Now a lot of dangerous, violent or merely amoral people are searching, and Benor has got caught up in it all. There are times when you discover that being forced to rely upon a poet for back-up isn’t as reassuring as you might hope.

Then we have a Tallis Steelyard novella. Tallis Steelyard and the Rustic Idyll https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B07ZKYMG1G/ When he is asked to oversee the performance of the celebrated ‘Ten Speeches’, Tallis Steelyard realises that his unique gifts as a poet have finally been recognised. He may now truly call himself the leading poet of his generation. Then the past comes back to haunt him, and his immediate future involves too much time in the saddle, being asked to die in a blue silk dress, blackmail and the abuse of unregulated intoxicants. All this is set in delightful countryside as he is invited to be poet in residence at a lichen festival.

And finally, for the first time in print we proudly present Maljie, the episodic memoirs of a lady. https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B07ZKVXP24/ In his own well-chosen words, Tallis Steelyard reveals to us the life of Maljie, a lady of his acquaintance. In no particular order we hear about her bathing with clog dancers, her time as a usurer, pirate, and the difficulties encountered when one tries to sell on a kidnapped orchestra. We enter a world of fish, pet pigs, steam launches, theological disputation, and the use of water under pressure to dispose of foul smelling birds. Oh yes, and we learn how the donkey ended up on the roof.

All a mere 99p each

The One Thing A Writer Must Accomplish – Daily Quote

I think a writer must also learn how to write a good story, and unless they take advice from more experienced writers, then the newbie mistakes will never get corrected.

Jo Hawk

I have seen the endless prerequisites required to become a successful author. You must get an agent, submit your work, set up your platform, suck it up as they reject your work, start a newsletter, cultivate your voice, love reading, build your street team, read everything in your category, manage your brand, decide on your genre, learn your craft, daydream, and find your compelling reason for writing. What am I forgetting? Oh yeah, you also need to create something brilliant. The list is long, daunting and impossible to master in a short timeframe.  No wonder people quit.

I’ve made a radical decision. I plan to ignore the mandatory requirements and helpful advice, opting instead to compose stories. There is a saying that states, “when the student is ready the teacher will appear.” I trust the devices and skills will arrive at the point in my journey when I need them. I intend…

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