Newsletter vs blogpost…
And we’re not talking just the normal subscribed newsletter here that many folk, authors mainly, seem to deliver.
I’m talking about something more special.
And we’re not talking just the normal subscribed newsletter here that many folk, authors mainly, seem to deliver.
I’m talking about something more special.
Such a fascinating subject in The Guardian. Should we delve into authors’ lives?
It’s so relevant in this quick-to-judge society in which we live.
One of the hardest things I find as a writer, is the inability to devour fiction the way I used to…
Matthew Harffy exploded onto the writing scene last year with The Serpent Sword, Book One of the Bernicia Chronicles. His books have had vast accolades and he has been compared with the iconic Bernard Cornwell, a tag he wears with humility. He writes about a violent and oft-misunderstood time in British history and I wanted to get behind the man and perhaps even a little behind the timeframe as Matthew sees it…
Today is my husband’s birthday and every year, I try to find a recipe we haven’t had before for his birthday cake/dessert. He is my agent, my financial advisor and the man behind the imprint, Darlington Press, which publishes my books and a couple of other titles.
So he deserves to be spoiled…
When I’m writing a new novel, I usually try not to read any hist.fict because I have a fear of literary osmosis, but it’s so hard as I have such wonderful writers to read. Fortunately none are in my timeframe, so that’s a blessing! But I am still cautious…
Sometimes I need solitude.
Sometimes I need the ocean like some people need chocolate.
This is one of those weeks…
Over the last few weeks, I have had issues with my upper spine, the cervical spine – C4 , C5 and C6, very close to my neck. This has been exacerbated by use of the laptop as I transcribe large chunks of Tobias from paper to the computer, editing the first draft in the process…
Sometimes it’s great to just leave research books, pages of writing and notes and the computer far behind and spend the day with family, just thinking of nothing in particular. Trust me, the muse was there. How could she not be with the beauty of the place? But she was as prepared to just ‘be’ as I was…
