Monday, 5 December 2016

Mind Blowing…

There are times when I want to run screaming away from my office and everything in it.

Yes, it was another one of those days when I had come up against the proverbial last straw and just knew I couldn’t take any more setbacks.

This post is hard for me to write, because I am one of the most stubborn persons on the planet. I rarely give up or give in, but I have come really close this week.

Even though, when I think of all the things I use every day, I am undeniably proud of my progress. For a dyed in the wool technophobe, I amaze myself sometimes.

With one exception.

I seem to be developing a phobia about book covers. Quite apart from the trouble of choosing the right one in the beginning, I keep changing my mind. And if you have ever had to change one of your book covers on Amazon or Goodreads, you will know what it entails. Unless the trouble I encounter is down to me again, of course.

Last week, after finally deciding which covers I wanted to use, I uploaded them on Amazon. I have done this before and usually after a day or two, the new cover will show up. But not this time though.  So a swift email was sent to ask why, and quickly sorted. But why didn’t it happen the way it is supposed to?

Changing your covers on Goodreads is another kettle of fish all together. I know how you are supposed to do it, but their site is so complicated, I find it quicker to ask one of their regulators to do it.

I was almost getting a handle on all of it, only to discover both of the book links were broken.  Same books, but…

All of this has gone a long way to convince me never to change my mind again, a necessary step to salvage what’s left of my sanity. And, quite apart from anything else, I have better uses of my time…

What drives you mad, and what do you usually do about it? 

Wednesday, 30 November 2016

Done scraping the barrel?


Just when I thought this world couldn’t get any worse, that we had already seen enough disasters, suffered enough injustice and fought our way through disappointment after disappointment to be immunised against any more pain, there was so much more.

I heard it coming, we all did.

More of the same, we thought, expecting to shrug it off and get on with our lives. We have long lived with the knowledge that we are at the mercy of those in charge, and that tilting at windmills isn’t really an option.

So why does it feel different this time?

Why do we feel so completely abandoned and betrayed?

We have joked about going to hell in a handcart, but it was still a shock to see it trundling down the road towards us.

I have been waking up in the morning feeling ill, trying to convince myself it is yet another symptom of old age. I am normally an enthusiastic person. Glass half full and all that, but these last few days have seemed empty and hollow. I can usually summon up the energy to fake it until it comes back, but for the first time in my life, I don’t really want to.

But supposing the enthusiasm never come back, what then?

In a way, I am rather glad to be old. Life doesn’t mean the same to me as it once did. I have passed the point of worrying and making plans, content to potter along in my relatively peaceful retirement.

But my little boat seems to have lost its moorings for the moment, been cut adrift and left to sink into deep water, with no visible means of reaching the shore…

(Something will rescue me, I just hope it doesn’t take too long, whatever it is!)

 On a lighter note, Anita and I have decided to publish some of our best short stories for your enjoyment. 
Do you think an ebook can be a stocking filler? 

Amazon Link:

Monday, 28 November 2016

Perfectly Good Intentions..

I started the week full of good intentions. It was a new week - new mood - new energy.
There was none of that - 'It's a beautiful day, watch someone ruin it.'
But someone did.

BT did. Someone had tried to hack into my e-mail account over the weekend and had promptly been frozen out, me included!  To make matters worse, I had temporarily forgotten the answer to my security question, so couldn't change said password either.

Thoroughly frustrated, I finally managed to speak to someone in India who said she would e-mail me a new password.  Words cannot sufficiently explain what happened to my temper after trying several times to get her to see why this would not work, and I was passed on to someone else. This young woman was so helpful and immediately understood my problem, that my temper had no choice but to high tail it out of the back door!

So, not a good start, you might say. But this was only Monday, onwards and upwards OK?
I should be thinking about what I want to do next. Anita has a book ready for proofing, and I need to work on the print copy for The Broken Life, but just getting over the flu and not feeling geared up yet.
What I cannot understand is why most days are good and optimistic, then you get those other kind. The 'what the hell do you think you are doing' days. Closely followed by (give it up, you know you are too old to bother with it).

I am basing my understanding of this writing business on what I have observed with my sister Anita. She has seven good books to her credit and just seems to get on with it (and enjoys the process!)
I know we are all different, and that's how it should be, it's just not very helpful.

I think it is my age that seems to be the problem. I find myself wondering where all the time has gone and know that I have wasted most of it. Why didn't I want to do this when my brain was younger?
Don't get me wrong, on a good day I know that my brain is as good as if not better than most people's. It's just that my good days are getting pretty thin on the ground these days.

So I shouldn't be wasting any of them, right?