Tag Archives: writing life

Happy Tenthiversary To Us

Today, my dear people, this very day, August 12th 2022, marks TEN WHOLE YEARS since I started this crazy journey towards becoming a published author.

Ten years since I left my last paying job, where I had the comfort of being an employee, and leapt headfirst into an unknown world, a world of self-employment, uncertainty about income, uncertainty about everything – and I haven’t regretted a single moment.

Me, with my messy bookshelves, a couple of years back…

That’s not to say that it hasn’t been hard, at times. Of course it has – I’d be lying to you if I said it’s been plain sailing, all this time. I owe so much to so many, primarily my husband and immediate family, for their support and care. I started my writing journey with nothing more than some savings, a head full of ideas, and my fingers firmly crossed, and since then I’ve gained a kid, an agent who has stuck with me through good times and bad, a Literature Bursary from the Irish Arts Council, and more book deals than I can actually talk about yet (sorry…)

And I’ve been published. Several times, now. Which is a sentence that never gets stale.

Being published, and then staying published (an infinitely harder thing to do, by the way) is the single biggest privilege of my life. I have worked hard for it, and I continue to work hard for it, but as well as that I’ve been immensely lucky, and I’ve had a lot of people in my corner. I want to thank my agent, Polly Nolan, and all the editors I’ve had the privilege of working with so far – Ruth Bennett, Katie Jennings, Ella Whiddett, Melissa Gitari, Melanie Nolan, Caroline Green and Sarah Thomas – and every member of every publishing team who has handled any of my stories. Everyone – cover artists and designers, proofreaders and copy editors, rights people, PR bods, sales and marketing teams and so many more – have such vital roles to play in getting books into readers’ hands, and authors owe you all a huge debt of gratitude.

When I started my writing journey, I knew it would be tough. I knew I would face rejection; I knew the mountains I’d climb would be steep. All that has proven true. I didn’t anticipate some of the mental challenges that came along with publication – much like parenthood, I don’t think anything can prepare you for it besides going through it yourself. Being published, for me, has been a process of attempting to unlearn lessons I spent my life, up to that point, learning by heart: lessons like ‘you’re not good enough’. Lessons like ‘nobody cares what you think’. Lessons like ‘who do you think you are, to try to tell the stories in your heart?’

Those lessons were hard ones, and unlearning them – a lifelong process, which I haven’t mastered yet – is harder still.

My writing career hasn’t propelled me to the heights of fame, nor has it brought me riches or stability of income. But none of that matters. I know that I can walk into a bookshop and, most of the time, I’ll find my stories on a shelf. I know that children all over the country, and further afield, have read my books and that they mean something to them. I know that I have more stories to come.

But the greatest feeling of all is knowing that some of you have been here all this time, through the last decade, following my journey and cheering me on, and I wouldn’t be where I am today without you. Happy Tenthiversary to Us. And thank you all for every comment, every cheer, every read of my blog posts, every time you’ve purchased or read or recommended my books or my writing – it all means so much.

And don’t forget to stay tuned… because believe me, there’s more to come.

Some Friday Flash

It’s Friday.

Thank goodness. I feel like this:

Image: bighugeminds.com

Image: bighugeminds.com

Perhaps it’s a consequence of it being the first full week back into the ‘norm’; the routine of early (pitch-dark) mornings, running around like a fly with an azure behind all day, and falling into a grateful stupor at night – well, once I’m finished reading ‘just another chapter!’ of course.

Or maybe I’m just getting old. That could be it, too.

Whatever the reason, I’m glad to see Friday’s smiling face. I’m also glad to have completed another ‘Flash! Friday’ challenge – I’ve posted my story below, just in case you’d like to throw your eye over it. It’s not the best piece of flash fiction in the world, nor the most original, but I don’t know. There’s something about it that I like. I have a soft spot for time travel stories at the best of times, and I could think of worse places to be stuck than early twentieth-century America, so in a way I’m a little jealous of my characters.

And, when you think about it, isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be?

So – here’s how it works. Every week, the lovely people at Flash! Friday select a prompt image, and also a prompt word, or words. This week the prompt words were ‘Time Travel’, and the image was this:

Image: commons.wikimedia.org

Image: commons.wikimedia.org

And here’s my wee story:

End of the Road

‘Wait. I don’t …’ The handheld panel illuminated Palmer’s frowning face. ‘Just a second.’

‘Haven’t got a second,’ I said, assessing our new surroundings. Vehicle, of sorts; windows grubby, warped. Unfiltered sunshine. Early twentieth? Maybe? How could we be so far off, again? As Palmer scanned her screen, I glanced behind. Wow. A tunnel carved through a giant tree spanned the road – it must have been our vector. Huh. Organic, again… The jalopy groaned and shuddered, knocking me out of my thoughts. I turned back around, trying to focus.

‘C’mon, Palmer,’ I muttered. ‘Quickly, before we’re seen.’

‘Yeah, yeah. Hang on.’ Palmer swiped the screen, decisively. She pressed ‘Engage.’

Nothing.

‘What’s wrong?’ I side-mouthed, trying to stay calm.

‘No way,’ she breathed. ‘Of course. Organic vectors. Missing targets by centuries…’

‘What?’

‘It’s the Network. The Timeshift itself.’ She swallowed, hard. ‘It’s collapsing.’

What?’ The car swerved.

‘How’s your twentieth-century patois?’ she grinned, sadly. ‘We’re going to be here a while.’

**

And, with that, I wish you a happy Friday and a peaceful, restful weekend. Read lots, write lots, and laugh as often as you can.