Having dipped my toe in the bubbling waters of Writer-dom, the rest of my leg has suddenly been tugged under as well. I’m uncertain as to whether it’s a pleasurable continuing excitement or p’raps the start of a niggle of fear. Being the new social-media-challenged kid on the block here, I’ve been scratching around at other people’s blogs and stuff. None of your rummaging in dustbins or sneaky industrial espionage, you understand, just a peek at this fella and that gal, just trying to figure out really how it all works. Results of that research, you’ll not be surprised to learn, is that I’m mostly none the wiser. I think I may have the equivalent of a black belt in ignorance. However, people who have had to suffer me in the past will tell you that being ignorant of matters has never deterred me from lunging right ahead a la Bull in the China Shop. So, if you hear the metaphorical tinkling of disintegrating porcelain, send me the bill. But here’s the thing. It seems (whisper it if you must) that there’s a growing swell of opinion that ‘going the self publishing route’ may be casting off its former stigma. Shudder the thought, it might even start to become fashionable. What is clear to this neophyte at any rate, is that droves of hitherto unpublished authors now rejoice in the fact that their name is attached to the ‘published’ label. It may be that Uncle Fred and Auntie Mabel are the two sole purchasers of the masterpiece that’s taken blood, sweat, tears, and not a little psychiatric counselling to tease out, but their baby is breathing somewhere in the ether world of Kindle et al. Of course, it doesn’t really matter to me if anyone downloads my book or not ( who the hell am I trying to kid!!). Another flash of the blindingly obvious is that having tasted that sweet, sweet ambrosia, the hypnosis of seeing my own name on Kindle, my approach to this whole adventure is radically changing. As sure as eggs is eggs, I’m becoming resigned to the fact that I’m now destined to spend the rest of my life trying to catch up and understand even a smidgeon of how this all works. In the meantime, my minders here at the writing asylum would like you to know that I can be visited at weekends and other days with a ‘y’ in them. Bring ice cream, lots of ice cream. I’ll report back soon….
Monthly Archives: May 2012
I am an endangered species, trying to make myself a tad less endangered. Computers and Web-by things and I are fundamentally incompatible. Without a safety net or a plethora of shrinks, I am plunging into the deep end here in cyberspace. By all accounts, Web Jurassics like me should have vanished off the face of the earth eons ago. But, hell, I look in the mirror, and I’m still here. Evolve or be damned they say. Keep up with the times they say. Embrace this world of Twitter, and Facebook, and LinkedIn and Godknowswhatelsesocialnetworks you can find, they say. Well there’s a misnomer if ever there was one . ‘Social’ networks. It’s basically non-instinctive for any human being to press buttons on a piece of electronic hardware and be ‘communicating’ anywhere. Yes, yes, I know we’ve had telephones and televisions and going back a wee bit, tons of radios and such for quite a while now. But I bet they were the cause of untold anguish to our forebears when they first encountered them. Well that’s how I am. I wanted you to know that, so that when I press whatever button (or is that ‘key’) to send this virgin, maiden missive into the depths of ‘out there’, and all the town and city lights suddenly go out, you’ll know who to blame. I’m a new author. New, not in the physical bodily sense, for that was quite a while ago, but new to the family of fellow suffering scribes who sit staring at computer screens until their heads twirl backwards and their eyeballs fall out from plot and character development fatigue. And right here it’s appropriate to sneak in a confession…I’m loving it. The whole Twittery, Kindle-y, eBooks versus printed books debate-y, blog-gy, beautiful nine yards of it. I’m hooked, and don’t wish to be un-hooked any time soon. Thanks for being out there lovely people. talk to you in a while, I’ve got to go and discuss a little Point of View (POV to the author-y cognoscenti) with the writing committee in my head… see you later…
Thriller with bloody twists and turns as ruthless killers meet their match in former SAS hit squad.
Former SAS commando Jack Calder leads a manhunt across three continents to bring to justice international gold and diamond highjacking killers. Along the way he is forced to confront the ghosts from his own dark personal history.
“On either side of him, one man each took hold of an arm… two others stepped forward swiftly and acted in concert… two meat cleavers flashed and thudded through the flesh of each arm. As the dying triad was folded into the tarpaulin, the man in the middle seat spoke, very quietly.
“Remove this scum and park it with the fishes. The hands that have been stealing my money will be taken and shown round the streets to the rest of our people. Remind them all how much I value their honesty.”