WHERE THERE'S A WILL .....

Isn't it cold! I know it is December and almost Christmas and that we are just a couple of days away from the shortest day of the year but I mean! Think back to the mild temperatures we have had in the UK throughout this year. The last thing I expected was that it would actually get cold! And now I hear the bookies are upping the stakes on an official white Christmas! The last one I can remember was 1982 and that year it was unbelievable - with drifts several feet deep.

I have made a decision. I have been thinking a lot lately - and by God does it hurt when I do too much of that! I have decided that in the New Year, I am going to start looking for a part time job. At the moment I work full time as a PA and I hate it. I am sick of the office and sick of the job - not the people I hasten to add; never them. I have as good a bunch of workmates here as I could possibly want. But yesterday I was taken to lunch and I was told - off the record - that there are going to be some major changes in the New Year - a major staff re-structure, a major re-shuffle and there is a distinct possibility that my role of PA is under threat; that I may be forced to move into the Admin pool and I am not happy about it; nor the way I am being kept in the dark about it. Of course, I should have guessed something like this would happen months ago. Managing Directors do not just walk out at a moment's notice and, to be honest, things haven't been quite the same since he left.

I have been thinking that I need to reduce my hours anyway - this has just speeded things up a bit. I have been working full time almost since I left school at 16 and I really do need to be working less hours now. Plus - I am still thinking about the promotion drive I want to give the Yuck series in the New Year. I can't do that if I am tied to an office five days a week. I have already started looking into funding, grants and awards but it might take me ages to track one down - and then goodeness knows how long it would take for it all to go through. It is obvious that I can't just give up working as much as I'd love to. So the compromise is to work three days a week instead of five, and to supplement the income with school talks and by running workshops - both of which I have done before. Not only would I then still be earning a regular wage, I'd also have two days a week in which to take the Yuck books into the schools, the clubs, the brownie packs, the Beavers, the Writing Groups, the libraries and to write.

So that is the plan. I just need to think of the best way to broach the subject with Hubby, bearing in mind the problems it caused a couple of years ago when I was head-hunted and then made redundant in the space of eighteen months and then laid off after three months at another job. That is why the idea of a compromise seems the best way to do it so now I am mulling it over; the last thing I want him to do is start worrying about our finances. I will keep you guys informed. Where there's a will, there's a way.

In the meantime, may I wish you all a wonderful festive season whatever your personal beliefs and a brilliant 2008.

Have a good one!

A BOOK, A BOOK, MY KINGDOM FOR A BOOK...

In the space of just over twelve hours, there has been elation and deflation in New Successful Writer's life! It all began at quarter to five yesterday evening. That was when Hubby rang me at the office in a state of huge excitement. "I have just had a phone call from Lorraine!" he cried (who is Youngest Step-daughter by the way). "She's taken delivery of a special little package!" . Now bearing in mind Youngest Step-daughter has a baby due on 29 December, my initial rush of excitement was one of the Proud-Grandmotherly kind. Boy? Girl? Weight? Name? That we have already been told - not least by Grand-daughter herself - that the forthcoming baby is male fell by the wayside for a few seconds. "It's your book!" crowed Hubby, inadvertantly scattering all thoughts of New Grandchild. "The print version!" This took a moment to sink in. "What?" I managed after a silence of several moments. "She's had six copies arrive today!" Hubby went on. Slowly things began to fall into place. The main thing being that my book is now in print - and not a self-printed copy of the download! Hubby was babbling on about how Youngest Step-daughter and Clever Son-In-Law had ordered a copy for each of their friends from the Parent-craft classes they'd attended when expecting Grand-daughter, and how they wanted them all signed before Christmas so they could be wrapped and given to the various offspring. All I kept thinking during the next incredible few minutes was 'Wow!' and 'It finally got there!'

I immediately went onto the Yucketypoo website and tried to order six copies myself but, in the adrenalin rush, hit a wrong button somewhere and had to give up. All the way home I was thinking how ironic it was that the books arrived yesterday when, earlier on, hot on the trail of Sarah the Publisher telling me that they now had a Print-on-Demand service available, I had emailed her and asked how I could get a copy printed up in time to give to Hubby for Christmas.


Anyway, when I got home, there was Hubby beaming like a Cheshire cat and I must admit his enthusiasm was a tonic in itself. But five minutes later the telephone rang. It was Sarah the Publisher. She had organised a limited edition print run just to meet the orders she'd had come in over the past couple of months and only had three copies left. There is another print-run scheduled - but it is doubtful it will happen this side of Christmas. A lot depends on how many more orders we can secure between now and then and, given it is just twelve days away, I won't hold my breath.

Hubby was absolutely gutted! I could see him deflating like the proverbial Christmas balloon! Sarah the Publisher did say she would send me a copy but that wasn't really what Hubby wanted to hear. He wanted to know we'd sold enough copies in advance to warrant a full print run of 2500. He wanted to know we could walk into W H Smiths and Waterstones and possibly see copies on display there. He wanted to take a copy into work and say proudly "Here it is!" and hand copies to the parents on Christmas Day. Most of all he wanted to crack open the champagne and say "Well done, Author!" as our glasses clinked. That will still happen - but after the thrill of hearing there are print versions in circulation right now - he wanted to celebrate right now - not next month or next year. This book has already been germinating for sixteen months. We have already had a mini-launch for the electronic version and there is no denying that it really is happening. It is just that it seems to be taking so bloody long!

Over coffee at Costa's this morning, he got very passionate again and, again, I was moved almost to tears by his unerring faith and unceasing belief in me. He knows that both Sarah the Publisher and I are haunting the media and book-sellers with info packs and Press Releases. He knows that several High Street Chains and a TV Producer have already expressed some interest in it. He knows she is a small independent publisher with limited resources. But he is clearly disappointed it has taken this long to get where we are - which, let's be honest - isn't as far as we had both hoped. To top it all off, he looked me straight in the eye and bequeathed me every penny of our savings at the Building Society (it isn't much but it is just sitting there doing nothing) if it means I can take some time off and just get out there and meet the people, sell the book, truly realise what is not longer just my dream but our dream and just be an active writer.

In all honesty, no amount of best-sellers could match that level of Love with a capital 'L' - or even come close but please - anyone - everyone - go to http://www.yucketypoo.co.uk/ and order a copy. Order several copies. Get everyone you know to order copies as well. And remember that a percentage of every copy sold goes to CLIC-sargent plus an important environmental message reaches the very people who will inherit the earth - our children and grandchildren!

And hopefully we will be able to open the champagne!

SO NOW WHAT?

Well, here we are, less than two weeks away from the Big Day! How comes it is Wednesday again, already? How did that happen? Where did the time go? Mind you, I do not much care how quickly time passes leading into the Christmas break - as long as the Christmas Break itself does not pass too quickly! My Christmas Shopping stint for Hubby did not fulfil my expectations. The atmosphere was great and Croydon felt very festive. The trouble is, and I am almost sure it doesn't get any easier, Hubby and I have been together for so long now that we actually want for very little. What I'd like to give him is the opportunity to retire because I know that's what he wants. What he would like to give me is the opportunity to quit the day job, stay at home and write because he knows that's what I want. But both of those are currently out of the question so it means more nick-nacks like pens, socks, underwear and chocolate - all of which are readily available and all of which we have already got! Ah well - not to worry. We have at least got each other (who's making that retching noise?) and as long as we have that, I guess presents to unwrap on Christmas Day are just bonuses!

I have been in quite a reflective mood the last few days. I have hardly written a thing of late, which makes me both sad and ashamed. What I would really like to do is start my novel - the one I have been thinking about and researching and procrastinating over for at least a decade - and possibly longer. But with the third Yuck book still to write, the novel is going to have to take a back seat for a bit longer. And I miss my poetry a huge amount. No time. Saddest words ever written as Og Mandino says in "The Choice". I just don't know where 2007 has gone - along with all the hopes and dreams I had this time last year. And going through the menopause has not helped one iota! A few years ago all I'd have worried about was where the next poem was coming from. Lately it has been whether or not the Hot Flushes will restart (I had the first one in ages a week or so ago!) or if I will ever be fully myself again? Where am I going? Where will I be this time next year?

And the biggest question of all - who really gives a damn?

"THCAREY......"

I am in the office ultra-early today. I wanted to put the Christmas Tree up. Figured it might put my colleagues in a festive mood. Hoping to put our own up this evening at home. Grand-daughter is visiting on Sunday and I wanted her to see it. It will be the only chance we get to show it to her this year because the family Christmas get-together is at Youngest Stepdaughter's on 29 December - ironically that is the same day that her baby is due - which means we are all congrigating in Leigh on Sea in Essex rather than Addiscombe in Croydon. And talking of Grand-daughter - Hubby and I survived the whole weekend with her last week.

We went into Christmassy Croydon on the Saturday full of plans to take her to see one of Santa's many Helpers. We thought we'd initiate her gently by first taking her to see the workshop full of mechanical elves in Centrale. One look at the soul-less figurines and she pulled the buggy hood as far down as she could. Okay. So the elves didn't work. What about the huge Singing tree in the central concourse? Oops - no - she told us it was 'thcarey' as opposed to 'scary'. When it suddenly opened its huge blinking eyes and began to sing, it almost finished her off. It actually is quite scarey! We crossed to Whitgift. The giant tree inside the main entrance was also 'thcarey' even though it didn't sing so we went into Smiths to get a couple of books for presents. By now, she had talked us into letting her out to walk. Big mistake. She saw the Terry's chocolate oranges piled up in front of the till and really let rip when we walked out without buying her one. I eventually had bribe her into going back into the buggy by promising she could have 'Dum-dum' if she'd only stop and resist the living rigamortis that had set in to coincide with the scream with the highest decibel count in the history of mankind. This worked as she is only allowed 'Dum-dum' when it is sleep time. As she had been up since half past six and it was now almost midday, she was just about due her usual nap anyway. She finally conceded, sucked on 'Dum' and fell asleep inside thirty seconds. So we never did get to see the Helper in the giganticus Whitgift grotto.

This afternoon I am finishing work at noon so that I can go Christmas Shopping for Hubby's presents in Croydon. It will be the only opportunity I get between now and the Big Day so I intend to make the most of it. Tomorrow we are going Into Town - which effectively means a day in London, most specifically Covent Garden - to finish off the General Christmas Shopping. We are both looking forward to that as we have a love of London, especially at this time of year when all the lights are glittering and "Do they Know It's Christmas" is booming out of every shop doorway. Having said that though, I heard The Pogues and Kirsty McColl's "Fairytale of New York" for the first time this season the other day. That, to me, more adequately epitomises the spirit of Christmas and I allowed myself a little smile. When you hear that for the first time as Christmas gallops towards us like a herd of demon reindeer across a snowy plain, that's when Christmas has really arrived!

Wish me luck as I brave the Manic Shoppers again. Oh yeah - I guess I'll actually be one of them as long as I am trailing through the town with ten thousand bags hooked over my elbows!!!! My prime directive? To find at least one unique, unexpected, awe-inspiring present for my Steve. That shouldn't be too didfficult. Should it...?