It was Dorset Heritage weekend on the 14th and 15th September, and there were houses and places of historical interest open to the public for free.
We were attending Kate Kelly’s YA ‘Red Rock’ book launch on Saturday, an excellent event, so it was on Sunday we took a trip to Dorchester. We spent a fascinating afternoon touring the old Crown Court and underground cells.
The Tolpuddle Martyrs were tried in this very court and held in the dark, claustrophobic cells before and during the trials. It’s part of our rich Dorset history, which includes smugglers, a naval base, George the Third, the Olympics, and Thomas Hardy. Kathy Sharp and I, both Dorset writers, have been contracted for books that were inspired by our beautiful county.
Dorset inspires, from its landscapes to its buildings.
‘Truth or Dare?’ will be with you in October, and in the lead-up, I’ve been busy visiting places that feature in the story, and capturing them on camera. A photo tour will follow in due course.
There will also be the cover reveal. It is superb. Another Berni Stevens masterpiece.
Truly, madly, deeply excited to announce my short story, Bitter Sweet, which achieved runner-up position in Choc Lit’s first short story competition, 2012, has been selected for the Romantic Novelists’ Association Anthology, due for publication, by Harlequin, February 2014. The anthology is entitled Truly, Madly, Deeply. You can find out more here.
The week I first heard it had been accepted was the same week as I signed Truth or Dare? to Choc Lit. I lived on adrenalin. And I smiled lots.
I’m still having a few ‘shaking head’ moments. On both counts. How lucky am I?
The RNA’s anthology, Loves Me, Loves Me Not, was a great success and I am thrilled to be contributing to Truly, Madly, Deeply, and I am completely overwhelmed with the line-up of authors.
Thank you to the RNA, its members, and its New Writers’ Scheme for the time and effort put into guiding and advising new writers, and for helping me fulfil a dream.
And thank you to Choc Lit, without whom, Bitter Sweet would not exist.
What a week! I was conversing with my lovely Romaniac friends about how busy I’ve been this week. It wasn’t until that point I realised why I’m so worn out.
It started with the arrival of my first ever set of edits for my debut novel, Truth or Dare?, during the week leading to my return to the stage.
See? That sentence alone is enough.
A few years ago I became involved with a great organisation called UK Unsigned, and entered their singing competition. On my second time of entering. I took second place, nationally, in my category.
This year, the genius behind the outfit, John Downie organised an event in celebration of UK Unsigned turning 15, and I was on the performers’ list. I haven’t sung for two years, but I started my singing exercises, and practised a few songs. I chose a Caro Emerald song, Liquid Lunch, and had a great time.
Singing is a lot like writing in that the muscle must be exercised regularly. I still have some way to go to get my voice into peak condition, but walking onto stage last week has reminded me what fun singing is. It was lovely to have the opportunity to support John with this event and give a little back to an organisation that had me singing at the O2, Shepherds Bush in 2010.
For the next few days, I had my head down, going through my edits for Truth or Dare?, a process I was surprised to find I loved. It has certainly got the old brain ticking over and I have been able to rectify those niggling issues that have bothered me since I submitted the manuscript to Choc Lit. I learned what exposition is. It is quite possibly something of which I am guilty not only on paper, but in real life.
I booked time out to meet with my family and friends who were camping locally; we went to the beach, we took a trip to the cinema, and we went into town to watch the carnival.
Yes, it’s been a busy week, but a good one, and I managed to finish my edits, spend time with my family, and prevent my pale and interesting look from returning.
Time to put my feet up? Oh no. Time to finish Follow Me, before the next round of edits arrive…
It’s official! I have most definitely signed with award-winning publisher, Choc Lit.
I say that as if it wasn’t official before, but to see it written in black and white in Book Trade Announcements is thrilling. And I am so pleased for my friends, Alison May and Rhoda Baxter – we’re all in it together, ladies.
I’ve had my head down writing book 2, Follow Me, and I’m aware the first round of edits are imminent for Truth or Dare?, hence the relative radio silence. I’ve also been training my voice back into shape for a couple of singing outings coming up. Loving Caro Emerald at the moment. It’s fair to say I’m going to be rather occupied for the next few weeks.
Thank you for all your support, good wishes and for continuing to read my posts. I truly appreciate it. My previous post, Dear Mum: A Letter to the Skies reached a phenomenal number of readers last month. It will be a great honour to dedicate Truth or Dare? to my mum.
The Dorset Flag
I’m off now to complete a pivotal scene before lunch, followed by hanging the duvet out to dry. I lead a glamorous life 🙂
Over the last sixteen months, I’ve missed being able to pop next door and tell you all my news, so as today is special, I thought I’d fill you in on what’s happened since last July 22.
Despite the beautiful playing, the Yamaha remains unsold
Well, yesterday I spliced the top of my toe on a tent peg at Yeovil Car Boot. I know; you’re raising your brow and rolling your eyes, thinking, typical, but I can see the smile trying to break out. We sold some of your pictures – the beautiful Egyptian papyrus paintings. I liked the man who bought them. He knew his stuff and he appreciated the skill and time that went into the art. Whilst he was chatting with us, he was planning where in his flat he was going to hang them. He had seven ear-rings in one ear. He told me it didn’t hurt.
Ringo
Garry’s taken some of your things we didn’t sell to PAWS. I know you’ll be happy with that. You love your cats. We have three now – Daisy, Rascal and Sheldon (named after a character in The Big Bang Theory). I hope Ringo found his way to you.
I’ve been to Italy. We’d planned to go together, hadn’t we? To visit The Lakes. Have you been yet? I went to Umbria on a writing course. Sue Moorcroft, a name you know well, was the tutor, and Celia J Anderson, one of my wonderful Romaniac friends, who’s written Sweet Proposal, came too. The hosts at Arte Umbria are lovely. We were so well looked after, and the people I met there were warm, fascinating and funny – many laughs were had. I came home with a way forward with Follow Me, the book I started writing before you left, and a tan. Can you believe it? My usual ‘pale and interesting’ look has gone on vacation.
Laura, Sue & Celia at Arte Umbria July 2013
Sheffield was fantastic. That’s where the Romantic Novelists’ Association’s conference was held. It was a five hour drive, but I had my favourite music on, and the sun was shining. It was a weekend of learning and more laughing. I gave my first ever live interview. I couldn’t believe it. Now you’re really smiling. I know. Who’d have thought? The very lovely and very generous Miranda Dickinson invited me onto her vlog (video log, Mum), for a chat about my books. Yes. I did say books, in the plural. I’ll tell you about that later.
In March, the children, Garry, and I went to Florida for our first ever family holiday. Mum, it was fantastic. I’d like to live in Disneyworld – Hollywood Studios, in particular. The children loved it. We had a villa with a pool, a hire car and three weeks to visit the Disney parks, Universal Studios and NASA. I took over four hundred photos. Your grandson trained as a padawan, a young Jedi, your granddaughter tried every rollercoaster going, which was a huge breakthrough for the young lady who cringed just watching adverts about them, Garry enjoyed the driving and got us everywhere we needed to be, and I sung in The American Idol Experience and got through to the live show!
We returned home mid-April. I can’t believe it was three months ago.
When I attended the RNA Summer Party in May, and friends asked how the trip went, I realised, in the midst of conversation, it had been a life-changing holiday. I can’t put my finger on why, but I am now able to look forward more than back, and those occasions when I do peer over my shoulder, I’m able to raise a smile, not a tear.
Mostly.
Celia, Vanessa, Jan & Laura. 4/9 Romaniacs at Conference
The children are doing well. They are both high achievers and Garry and I are very proud of them. They talk about you often, and whenever we hear ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’, we look at one another and say, ‘Gran’s here.’
I’m growing my hair a little longer, and Garry’s keeping his shorter. It’s a wise decision. His IT business is going from strength-to-strength. That’s nothing to do with keeping his hair short. He’s working hard.
And I just want to mention Bro. He’s an excellent big brother.
Christmas was different without you. Quiet. Not that you were the noisy one. We missed you. My birthday was difficult, but Mother’s Day was okay. I thought I’d struggle, but Garry and the children made sure I had a good day.
Right then. Books. Well, I’ve been saving this bit of news until last. You could tell there was something, couldn’t you? You know me so well. That draft you read – Truth or Dare? – it’s going to be published, and do you know by whom? Choc Lit. Yes. Choc Lit. I know. Another name with which you are so familiar. I hope to dedicate the book to you. You’ll be in a novel, Mum. I’m busy finishing book two at the moment, ready to submit to the Taster Panel. Let’s hope they ask for seconds.
I’m so pleased we had our time together. I’m so glad I was able to share with you the pleasure my family, friends and writing bring me. I think about you every day, and often chat to you, but that’s okay, because I’m a writer and we do stuff like that all the time. I hope you’ve been having not just a good time, but a great one, Mum. I stayed up last night and watched the clock turn over to midnight. I wanted to be the first to wish you a happy birthday. It was raining, but I knew by the time I woke, the sun would be shining. I remember you saying it is always sunny on your birthday. As usual, you’re right; it’s beautiful here.
Well, I have to go now, I’ve books to write and whites to wash. I’ll raise a glass of Ribena in your honour, Mum.
The Italian Job? Well, I will be in Italy, and it is to do with my ‘job’; not that I call writing a job. It’s a passion.
After the excitement of my book contract with Choc Lit, I’m getting my head down, finishing book two, and what better way to move a story forward than to participate in a writing course. My fellow Romaniac, Celia Anderson, is attending, and we are being tutored by one of my Choc Lit colleagues, Sue Moorcroft.
With Gajitman and his techno army in charge back at base, I shall be crafting my art, and learning new skills, as well as practising my swimming and sampling the local fare.
I know, but somebody has to do it.
There will be photographic evidence of hard work, I promise. Until then, have a great week and enjoy the sunshine.
I am delighted to tell you my first novel, ‘Truth or Dare?’ has been accepted for publication by the marvellous Choc Lit, under their new Choc Lit Lite imprint, and I couldn’t be happier.
Choc Lit are a well-respected, award-winning, independent publisher, with great work ethics and fantastic authors, and one with whom I feel honoured to be linked.
I’m quite sure none of this would have happened had I not joined my local writing group, Off The Cuff, or the Romantic Novelists’ Association New Writers’ Scheme, and owe everyone involved my thanks. If you are an unpublished writer of romance, the NWS is the scheme for you. Find out about it here.
Through both groups, I have learned such a lot about writing, and life, but best of all, I made enduring, solid writing friendships, including my online support group, The Romaniacs.
Then there are those wonderful friends and family at home, who for the last six years have listened to me without glazing over, and encouraged me to keep going.
You are all stars, and not once have I found writing a lonely experience 🙂
As a special birthday treat for my Newly Teenaged Daughter (NTD), I offered to take her to London to see a West End show. She chose Wicked, at the Apollo Victoria Theatre, and what a great time we had. She is a fan of The Wizard of Oz, and The Return to Oz, able to explain the plots inside -out and back-to-front, so she was keen to see, as she put it, the backstory to the witch.
I watched the show as a fan of musicals, a singer, and a writer.
The way the threads of the story weaved throughout, connecting with the original film, and the skilful way in which they were tied at the end, was ingenious; the singing was amazing, and the lyrics were flowing and very clever.
There was a buzz and a chemistry between the cast, and both NTD and I enjoyed the scenes between Glinda and Elphaba in particular; there was great wit and classic timing.
It was a thrill to see Harriet Thorpe in the role of Madame Morrible. Since first seeing her as Carole Parkinson, the receptionist who kept her baby in her desk draw, in The Brittas Empire, I’ve been a fan. NTD stared at me in bemusement when I said, ‘Morning, Mr Brittas. Yes, Mr Brittas.’
And let’s not forget the music and the orchestra. It was wonderful to hear live music, and watch the conductor, who more than once had a smile on his face.
Wicked is about to go on tour, and NTD and I highly recommend a viewing.
With the following morning spent at the Science Museum, pressing buttons and checking our personality traits, and the afternoon at the Victoria and Albert Museum, we caught the teatime train home, our heads full of colours, songs, the future, and sculptures.
I think our dreams must have been pretty special last night – we’re just too tired to remember them.
My goodness! What a busy few days. How on earth do touring pop stars know what day of the week it is?
I’m taking a breather after four days of travel, fun and learning.
On Thursday, I was in London, at the Romantic Novelists’ Association Summer Party, where the Romantic Novel of the Year was announced, as was the winner of the Joan Hessayon Award. The room was packed with writers, agents, publishers, and plentiful canapés, which I had to turn down, as with two of my fellow Romaniacs, I had eaten earlier.
I made a fashion choice that day; I opted to wear my Wonder Woman GoGo boots.
You’re a wonder…
Friday, I returned home.
Saturday, I was up and out of the house by seven, and on my way to Reading for another of Julie Cohen’s fabulous writing courses. I could tell you what I learned, but if you’re a writer, you really need to experience Julie’s workshops for yourself. They are insightful, interesting, helpful and fun. Amazing, actually. After ten hours in the company of new and established writers, I drove home, my head full of ideas, and my hands itching to swap the steering wheel for a pen and notebook.
With minimal sleep, I was up just after seven on Sunday morning, preparing for a trip to Hertfordshire and Buckinghamshire to visit family. It was a long, but lovely day.
As Gajitman drove home, and the children played on their electronic devices, I closed my eyes and ran through all the things that had happened since setting out to Waterloo on Thursday morning – trains, meetings, laughs (lots of those), conversations, hugs, kisses, challenges, sleep deprivation – and I smiled.
Whilst on holiday, in Florida, I found myself on stage, singing in The American Idol Experience.
One minute, my family and I were enjoying the warmth and sunshine in Disney’s Hollywood Studios, the next I was positioned on a gold star, singing ‘One Way or Another’, to the first-line producer, a lovely lady, named Katrina. She asked me to sing ‘Black Velvet’, and then I chose a song from their list, ‘Hit Me With Your Best Shot’, and gave that a go. I was complimented on my rock voice and was put through to the next round.
I’m not new to singing, but I have rested my voice for nearly two years, due to ill-health, and like every muscle in the body, if you don’t use it, you lose it, and my vocal chords weren’t at their best. I was thrilled I still had enough there to impress Katrina.
Whilst waiting to audition to the second producer, I practised my two songs, sipped water in the green room, which was actually red, and renewed my Italian vowels. ‘Smile when you’re singing the eeee sound,’ my teacher would say.
Gently ushered into a smaller room, I took my place on another gold star, held the mic in my hand, and gave it my best shot. Well, Pat Benetar’s best shot, to be precise. It hit the spot, I was congratulated and told I was through to the live show later that day.
Now, for someone who was originally heading for the Star Tours attraction, I exited the Idol building with a certificate, my contestant number, and a time to return for a ‘fluff and puff’, which included hair, make-up and vocal coaching.
Sometime after five pm, standing in the clothes I’d put on first thing, hair shuzzed and cosmetic improvements made, I was on stage, in front of a live audience, doing one of my favourite things. Performing.
I saw my family, watching, willing me on, smiling, as they have done on so many occasions when I’ve been in competition, or gigging. I have always sung to my children – nursery rhymes, pop songs, musicals – from when they were first-born, and I was told it was an excellent way for them learn word patterns and rhythm. They are both musical. My son could sing before he could read, and was up on stage at the age of three, with me, singing Abba’s ‘Gimme Gimme Gimme’, and my daughter plays piano, and dances.
I love that they love music.
Well, if I had won and gone on to that evening’s final, I would have competed for the chance to enter the full-on, proper American Idol, as the prize for the over all winner was a dream ticket to participate in the TV show. As it turned out, I was to appear on stage just the once that day, but it was all good; my son was training to become a Padawan at 8pm, and I didn’t want to miss seeing him defeat Darth Vader.
Dorset inspires, from its landscapes to its buildings.
