This month has crept up on me.
I’m due to release a new book at the end of the month, Reliquary and it’s a job which requires a certain amount of dedicated energy.
Writing this latest historical fiction (A Small Thread of Silk – working title only) is filled with serendipitous and exciting discoveries which is making the writing something special. Those of you who know me from Facebook will know about the strange revelations that have occurred, odd discoveries which mean that this book has just been waiting quietly in the wings to be written.
Is it a career?
Maybe it would be if it paid my way through every aspect of my life. But many authors, both mainstream and indie, will tell you that earning enough to pay all the bills is extremely difficult.
If you are one of the lucky ones – well done, you. But for most of us, there has to be another income stream.
So – my writing life is perhaps not a career in the accepted sense.
Sometime in the naughty nineties, I enrolled at the University of Tasmania Art School. Specifically the Paper Mill with a view to learning about paper, binding and artist’s books from the inestimable Penny Carey Wells.
It was a fabulous time – not least for the people I studied with who became such friends. Most had degrees in Fine Arts and were teachers of Art. I wasn’t, but it didn’t matter because the level of paper knowledge and binding was pretty well even throughout…
(Note: this post contains spoilers of The Gisborne Saga.)
Most of my reviews are excellent, between 4.5 and 5 stars, but recently a reviewer remarked of Gisborne: Book of Kings that the ending was twee. She still gave me a high star ranking for which I am very grateful, but I’m guessing she didn’t like the way in which the story was resolved…