YUCK ROCKS AMERICA .......

I was chuffed to get a text message from Sarah the Publisher the other day advising me to check out a review of Yuck 1 written by someone in AMERICA! How exciting is that? Take a look for yourself - the link is http://www.literacylaunchpad.blogspot.com/ and it was written as part of a scheme to get 100 bloggers to review 100 'great books' printed in an environmentally friendly way! It makes me blush to relate that the reviewer's kind words and complete understanding of the whole concept of Yucketypoo damn near brought a tear to my unpracticed eye! It reminded me just how proud I am of it! I so want it to become read worldwide because its message does affect the entire world! In fact I can't believe it hasn't reached more people yet because it is just so completely unique! There is nothing else like it on the market - even its sequels are totally different - but, as hard as I have tried to get someone of note to comment on it, it still remains something of a non-entity. Ah well - good things come to those who wait, I guess. And getting a review from America is but definitely a step in the right direction.

You know it is astonishing just how much better I have felt about myself as a writer since I became unemployed. It is the one thing that stabilises my mental and emotional well-being; when I have got a pen in my hand I become somebody else, somebody with passion and meaning. So it will come as no surprise to anyone that I have gingerly taken up the pen (and the laptop) again in between signing on, filling out endless streams of application forms and attending interviews. I have started to make notes and squiggles again and two days ago made a significant start on draft one of my local interest book. I also found out, quite by chance the other day, that I'd had a poem published in The Daily Mail! Plus I have two others appearing in anthologies over the next couple of months, all of which bodes rather well for the future, methinks!

Watch this space. The Writer ain't beat yet ......

OUT ON A LIMB - NOT!!!

I am so, so, so sorry to have abandoned you but you just will not believe what is going on in my life now! Talk about Eastenders - I tell you, Albert Square has nothing on me! After months of harping on about how much I loathe, detest, despise and hate my job, guess what? I've been made redundant! Really! I left the Friday before last. It all happened in the space of four weeks - from the first email being sent round to everyone to me walking out of the door for the last time. What a relief! I'm serious! Now don't think for a second I am being flippant here. I know how serious redundancy can be (let's face it, I have been through it before) and, despite the fact here are loads of jobs out there, here I am, a week or so later still job-hunting, still filling out application forms and checking jobsites every day - and yet still so pleased that I am no longer stuck in that bloody office!

Within the first week I had secured two second-stage interviews but neither amounted to anything and since then - zilch, zip, nil, zero. It isn't through lack of trying either. I have kept strict records and the number of jobs applied for so far totals 26! I am so sick of application forms that they are coming back to haunt my sleep night after night - the same questions, the same layout, the same everything. Only the company names are different, everything else is identical. Weren't CVs supposed to put an end to all this? I am not joking, when I complained of writer's cramp one day last week as I filled out a form I had picked up ten minutes before, Hubby snorted with laughter and said "Don't tell me you've got writer's cramp; you're a writer! How can you have it already, you are not even half way through that form!"

Now don't think he hasn't been Loving Supportive Hubby personified because he has. He has lifted my spirits every time I have started to flag and, if anything, seems horrified that I haven't been snapped up by somebody already. I feel kind of sad sometimes though because I know that if we could afford it, he would tell me to stop wasting my time looking for jobs and start using my time to knock up the odd bestseller or two. It is the one thing he hasn't been able to give me in all the years we have been together and I know that really bothers him.

I have decided to be more constructive with my writing during this time, though. After all there are only so many jobs, so many application forms and so many phonecalls I can actively pursue at any one time and the fact I am not stuck in front of a computer for eight hours during the day means that getting back to the laptop in the evenings has become enjoyable again. Hence my first blog in - ooo - weeks!

Watch this space; I have a feeling I will be back sooner rather than later. And keep your fingers crossed for me that some wicked commission comes my way which will pay me a packet and render the jobhunt - well, redundant ...

LONG TIME NO SEE...

The most horrendous thing happened to me last night! Knowing we had guests to dinner, I stopped off on the way home from the Day Job to get a few extra things, decided to pay with my Maestro card and was knocked for six when the card was refused twice. Fortunately I had enough cash on me to cover it but I was so embarrassed. I couldn't understand it. I only got paid two days before. Then I remembered - the mortgage and a number of direct debits had all gone out together and this was one of the few months of the year that the input date of my salary differentiated to Hubby's.

Normally they do coincide quite comfortably but this month - not a chance. I just wanted the floor to open up and swallow me as the long queue of people at the checkout behind me, fidgeted and tutted as I rummaged around in my bag and purse for any loose change I could lay my hand to. That the majority of the £12.00 plus was eventually scraped together out of fifty and twenty pence pieces did not help. I couldn't get out of there quick enough. To make it worse, I could not barge through my front door and tell Hubby how perfectly awful the experience had been because there were our two guests , sitting comfortably, nodding a greeting. They smiled sweetly as I rattled on about how sorry I was to be late to our own dinner party but there had been long queues ... the bus was late ... the bag almost split ... the till had broken down. Even Hubby gave me a funny look that intimated I was babbling incoherently, so please just stop, you're here now, let's get on with the evening.

Do you know, when I read The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic by Sophie Kinsella the first time, I almost wet myself laughing when protagonist Becky Bloomwood found herself stranded at a fashionable department store with baskets full of goods she could not pay for because all her cards had maxed out! But it ain't that funny when it happens to you and I hope it never happens again. I would sooner go one on one with the hounds of hell than watch my card get refused in front of a shop full of people again! Thank goodness Hubby's pay goes in tomorrow!

Despite everything the dinner party went off well. SpagBol is always a success, don't you find? Our two guests, who are Polish, cleared their plates and beamed their appreciation as we downed our second glass of Polish white wine (semi-sweet, quite fruity, very palatible) and then attacked the Vienetta with great gusto. Afterwards, we talked animatedly about their forthcoming wedding in Krakow and they looked at our wedding photographs. They asked about my writing and bought a copy of my book (which they insisted I sign) and then left. Fotunately, soon after getting home earlier, I'd had a chance to run upstairs, freshen up and change, during which time I scrawled a brief note to Hubby to explain what had happened. He went off to work shortly before our guests departed and muttered as he kissed me goodbye at the front door, "I got your note, don't panic, we'll meet for coffee in the morning."

Once everyone had gone and the clearing up was finished, I sank onto the sofa with a bar of strong dark chocolate and watched some 'B' movie about a swarm of killer ants invading a passenger plane. Finally sank into bed around 11.30. I don't know - nothing is ever easy, is it? And really where can one go when one hits rock bottom? The answer? Forward, forward, forward. It can only get better (and surely can't get any worse) .....

ALL QUIET IN BLOGLAND

Out of the fifty copies of Yuck I ordered in advance for the book signing at St Michael and All Angels Church last month, I have sold 34! I am so chuffed! They seem to do well at Sales of Work. People like the fact they can stand and talk to a writer and that the books are signed. I know it is a hell of a long way till I reach the midnight-signings of J K Rowling proportions but do you know what? I am pleased anyway. And the second book comes out soon which will be terrific; especially since it is launched in the US on the same day - plus the second edition of the first one is being launched at the same time. Things are looking quite good for Yucketypoo, on the whole. I start to feel more like an author and less like a wannabe.

My next project is the local interest book I have been banging on about for months. I have gathered virtually all the reseach and have set myself a deadline of 1st October in which to compile it. Then I will start to write the first draft. This is exciting because if there is one thing I have always wanted to do, it is write a local interest book! Is that sad or is that a sense of loyalty to my locality? I like to think the latter. Croydon is an amazing place, really. It has its darker side as do most big towns, but it is very colourful, historic and cultural on the whole and I think it gets rather a bad press. When the book is published next year, we'll have a big launch, then more people can see what I mean.

Have noticed a very quiet period on the blogging front of late. Are they going out of fashion? Has Twitter put paid to them already? I must admit I tend to read them but only occasionally comment, so hopefully people do the same with mine. If you read it and think it is lacking something please tell me. I am open to suggestions on making it more reader-friendly. Do you want more humorous anecdotes? More info about writing? More about what is going on in the world? Just let me know and I will spice things up a bit.

Enjoy your day. The weather is gorgeous here!

SATURDAY'S THE DAY ...

Just a quick reminder that I am signing copies of my books at the Summer Fair at St Michael & All Angels Church, in Poplar Walk, West Croydon this Saturday - 11 July - between 10 a/m and 2 p/m. You won't be able to miss me - my table will have YUCKETYPOO bunting all over it - and I will standing there in my Birthday Tops and Jeans (from Hubby), smiling brightly with my posh fountain pen at the ready.

I hope the weather is kind to us that day and I hope to meet lots of people, so fingers crossed. And - very important - 10% of every copy of Yucketypoo sold goes to CLIC-sargent, the children's cancer charity. Please try to come along - it would be great to see you.

Full report next week - promise!

ANY DREAM WILL DO

Met Hubby for coffee first thing this morning - we still try to do this at least once a week despite being short of cash. I like getting up at 5 a/m. In fact I promised myself today I would try to do this more often and use the hour to write. Promising myself and keeping that promise are two different things though! It is just such a nice time of day - no people around, hardly any traffic - just me and the birds. Love it! Anyway - I digress. Back to the Coffee Shop at East Croydon. Once we had sat down with our Extra Hot Latte (Hubby) and Black Americano (yours truly), we somehow got onto the subject of the lottery. We seem to do that a lot lately. I suppose it is because we don't actually have a lot of spare cash (does anyone these days?), so we just sit talking about a Lottery win as if it was already ours.

Hubby is renown for his kind and generous nature and this morning I was content, once he got in full flow, to just sit and listen to him map out our future as Well Off People. "You can give up work right away," he tells me, "to concentrate on your writing. I expect we'll have a bit of a rush - maybe splash out on a weekend in London to get some new clothes and book some shows up. Once things start getting back to normal and the novelty wears off a bit, this is what I think we should do ..." True to form, he then lists out the next steps which are:

a/ Make sure the mums and dads are ok. By this he means buying them new houses and taking away the strain of paying bills with nothing but their pensions.

b/ Make sure the kids are ok. This equates to buying Youngest Stepdaughter a new car and making sure she no longer struggles to pay the bills and can maybe become the full time mum she'd like to be. Eldest Stepdaughter doesn't seem to want for much so a cash gift seems most fitting.

c/ Make sure siblings are ok - in other words, give them all a little windfall (nothing spectacular, we don't want anyone to know how much we have actually won) - just enough to clear any debts, fund a decent holiday and maybe get Bro over from Denmark for a while,

d/ Make sure the grandchildren are ok - by setting up trust funds for them which they come into at the age of 21. This means Eldest Grand daughter - almost 4, Youngest Grandson - now one and a half, and Youngest Grand daughter (11m) will particularly benefit. May not be so good for Eldest Grandson (almost 14) who will only have seven years of interest to build up rather than 17 or 18 - but then (Hubby justifies), we have already spent a lot more on him because for the first 10 years of his life he was the only Grandchild and therefore thoroughly indulged by everyone, so it kind of balances out.

Finally, he tells me, whatever we are left with we will ensure we spend - and invest - it wisely so that our futures are secure. "I will go Part Time, say three days a week," he says, "so that you are free to Write (because if I am home all day every day, you will never get anything done as I will always be suggesting days out or weekends away) - and you will then still have plenty of time to concentrate."

This is the jist of it. Of course, our plans vary depending on how much we win. If he is feeling particularly optomistic, and we are fortunate enough to win the Big One (£26m plus) - then the odd million pound house, summer home and collection of Jags, Rolls Royces and state of the art laptops and blackberrys come into it in addition to everything above. Plus generous donations to the Lifeboat fund, Great Ormond Street Hospital and to A Child We Hear About that needs a new kidney or prosthetic limb (only this one, it goes without saying, would be made anonymously). And if it's a tenner - well - that'll pay for some groceries (or the next early morning coffee) - so who's complaining?

Personally I love listening to him when he talks like this because he makes it sound so real. He has clearly given the various options a great deal of thought and he glows with satisfaction when he realises how many people we could help should Our Moment ever come. Furthermore he does not then become morose or cynical when out numbers don't come up. He just snaps his fingers, sparkles a smile and says "It must be our turn next time then ..."

No wonder I love him so much!

WELCOME TO SUMMER

It is just the most gorgeous morning! All blue skies, feathery clouds and a feeling of promise. I cannot believe it is the longest day on Sunday! I seriously cannot keep the pace! I have been making a good recovery from the operation, by the way. The stitches came out on Tuesday last week and the knee is getting better by the day with only a trace of stiffness if I sit still for too long. I have only just realised how badly affected my life was by the knee before the op! I haven't woken up in pain at one in the morning for weeks. I feel like a new me!

Any holidays planned? Unfortunately, we can't afford to go away this year but we have booked off a week in July when Eldest Grandson is coming to spend a few days and we are looking up places to go. Current strong contenders are The Clink Prison in Southwark (he will just love all the blood and guts and torture chambers) and The London Wetlands Centre near Barnes. Either way we'll take a picnic because he really enjoys the mystery of all the packed sarnies, fruit and crisps. So we have that to look forward to. We have also booked a week at the end of October where we might see if we can afford a long weekend away or a midweek break somewhere cheap and cheerful - Butlins Bognor would be all right. A lot depends on the cash situation. We are not overly bothered by our lack of holiday this year, though, considering we have been having two a year for the past five years. The last time we couldn't afford at least one holiday was the year after we got married, so who's complaining?

All in all, I am feeling a whole lot better about a whole lot of things. The second book is almost ready, the local interest book is coming together and the poetry is slowly but surely making a come-back.

Amazing the effect a bit of decent weather has on one's libido. 10CC were right when they sang about Mr Blue Sky - Hey there, Mr Blue, we're so pleased to be with you, look around see what you do, everybody smiles at you.

Back soon.

POST-OP BLUES

Made it out of the op ok. Am still quite sore - sitting up at a table to use the laptop doesn't really help but I am getting there slowly and surely. Feeling rather bruised emotionally today though, even though the op was a week ago. Felt fine until I realised I can't afford to take my full two weeks recovery time. Theoretically speaking I should not be going back to the day job until Monday week. But because the company I have wasted seven years of life on with hardly a day off sick along the way don't pay sick pay and because the statutory sick pay is so abysmal, I have got no choice but to go back next Tuesday (albeit on a part time basis), just so I can clear a repectable wage packet at the end of the month. Naturally this has filled me with the post-op blues I have thus far managed to stultify. Or should that be stullify?

I can't help brooding on the fact that the reduced recuperation period means I will not be able to do anywhere near the amount of writing I had envisioned. This in turn has made me realise that I will probably never be a full time writer which is enough to sicken any author's spirit. And all that has led me to question my very existence and ask the all-consuming, non-answerable question of Why Am I Here?

Ah well - let's not go there. I am trying to convince myself that I will feel better tomorow. At least I wrote a poem on Tuesday. And woke up with the smidge of a new idea this morning. It is sad that it's little things like that which - in my current mood - keep me going......

UH-OH......

I wave a gallant hand and head off to hospital tomorrow for my knee operation. I daren't confess I am scared brainless - not even to myself! It isn't helped when someone says "Oh yes - I know someone who had that done - to both knees. It took him almost a year to recover!" (thank you Colleague Who Shall Remain Nameless). It isn't the op itself I am worried about - just the fact I will likely as not feel battered and bruised for a few days and be hobbling around on crutches. Ah well - as Mary Poppins said - if I must, I must! It needs doing; end of story.

Hoping not to be out of commission for too long, though. Lots going on - second children's book due out soon, third children's book needing swift re-write, research for Local Interest Book gaining momentum (have at least half a dozen meetings to line up when I am back on my feet for this project), Poems running round in my head looking for a way out like demented ants - and poor old Writewords has taken a huge backseat of late so need to catch up with them, too. Bearing all this in mind, Hubby suggested today that I bring Laptop down to living room tonight just in case the muse takes me (after I recover from the anaesthetic) so will do that.

Hopefully be well enough to do another blog in a few days. In the meantime, wish me luck as you wave me goodbye, here I go, cheerio, on my way ...

DER SPRING IS SPRUNG DER GRASS IS RIZ....

Isn't it nice to have some sunshine again? Hubby and I took full advantage of the gorgeous weather on Saturday and finally gave our lawn its first haircut of the year! What a job! The grass was dry as a bone on top but wet as a puddle underneath and the flymo did not like it one little bit! Still perseverence won out and all day yesterday I kept looking out of the French Windows and admiring the garden. Neither Hubby nor I are particularly green-fingered but we do like the garden to look presentable. The plan is to tackle the front lawn and hedge if the weather is with us this weekend, so fingers crossed.

How was your Easter? Hubby bought me a plain chocolate Thorntons egg and I bought him a box of Ferero Rocher (I think I have spelt that wrong - the ambassador would not be amused). It is the first time we have ever, ever, ever bought each other chocolate at Easter. I don't know what came over us. My chocolate egg lasted the whole Easter weekend. Hubby still has four of his Ferero Rocher left and last night boldly sacrificed those to me when I realised I had no chocolate in the house (that is a disaster believe me). But I valiantly held off. As a reward I shall treat myself to a big bar of Bournville Plain later today.

I went for my pre-assessment at the hospital last Wednesday. Operation Kneecap goes ahead on Thursday 14 May. I am not particularly looking forward to it but it will be such a relief when it has all healed up and I can walk normally again and not wake up in pain-racked misery at one in the morning. The knee has been especially troublesome since last Tuesday when I made the mistake of running for a tram. Something popped and the pain was excruciating. I will never run for a tram again - even after the knee has been fixed.

Anything else? Oh yeah - the local interest book project is gaining momentum. The two primary local papers have run a couple of articles about it and appealed to the readers for stories and anecdotes for possible inclusion. Apparently, a big story is due out in the Advertiser this weekend and I have another meeting planned for this Thursday about it. I am trying to get some quotes for print but the three printing companies I have had a response from have come back as much too expensive - so if you are reading this, and know someone in the print trade who is fairly local to Croydon, please pass on my contact details ASAP.

Have a good Monday!

ROLL UP ROLL UP - BOOK SIGNING IS ON ...

Had a meeting yesterday at a local church who are holding a craft fair on 11 July. I spotted the sign on the gate last Saturday and - being the new ultra-confident me - instantly saw the potential. I rang the number straight away and left a message. By five pm, I'd been invited for an informal chat. "What do you do?" asked Jackie the organiser. "I write children's books," I replied. There was a moment of silence before she said "That's different! Usually people tell me they make birthday cards!" Got to meet her yesterday and paid my £10.00 deposit for a table. The plan is to set it up as 'local writer makes good' and obviously to sell - and sign - as many books as I possibly can! I have already spoken to Sarah the Publisher about obtaining a stock of Yucketypoo books, and she has also graciously agreed to supply me with any posters and flyers I need. It is all extremely exciting! So - if you can get to St Michael and All Angels Church in Poplar Walk, Croydon (there is a car park next door), on Saturday 11 July between 10.00 and 2.30, then come along, say hello - and meet Yucketypoo!

Tomorrow sees me being taken out for lunch by the gentleman with whom I am developing ideas for a local interest book. I have been jotting notes ever since our first meeting three weeks ago and I am more convinced than ever that we are onto something massive here; mainly because he is as enthusiastic and excited about it as I am. And he wants to fund it. I mean how cool is that? I will come back with another update on this as soon as I can.

Still haven't heard about the commission but I was told by another company yesterday that I am 'first on the list' if anything suitable comes up on the ghost-writing route so that's another option. Do you know what else I have done? Suggested a Poet in Residence scheme to one of the major coffee house chains. I do so much writing in Coffee shops (as I am sure I have said before) - and so do lots of other people - so I will keep persuing this until they respond.

Finally - before I dash off - I am going to set up another blog to run in tandem with this one which will mainly showcase my haiku and tanka so keep your eyes peeled.

And please, please, PLEASE get hold of a copy of The Choice by Og Mandino. Read and devour it because it will convince you - as it did me - that the power of choice can be enormous. I chose in January this year to live my writing dream. And I am.

BEING A WRITER

I have got lots and lots and lots of fingers in pies and toes in doors in the wonderful world of writing right now. It is all due to a realisation at the beginning of the year. It is something I have known for a while but never really acted on and it is this - if I don't make it happen, nobody else will. It is that simple. In fairness to myself, I think I did act on it before when I was writing jelly baby stories for Trebor Basset and running creative writing courses at adult education centres and workshops for children at local libraries - and writing a weekly children's column for the local rag. That all happened in the space of a year and it was because I made it happen. I had realised then - and have re-realised now - that opportunities seldom come knocking at my door unless I have knocked on theirs first.

After my stint in the literary desert during the tail end of last year, I just knew that I had to get out there and sell myself again. Not as a high-class hooker you understand - but as the person I am - the writer. So I have contacted and signed up with two companies who use ghost writers and have already been invited to pitch for a series of boys' adventure stories. I got my sample chapter in two weeks ago and hope to hear soon whether or not I have won the commission. If I don't get it, it won't matter. At least the company took me seriously enough to consider me. I contacted someone about a local interest book three weeks ago and have a second meeting lined up about that next week so fingers crossed there (quite difficult when they are already in pies but I'll try anything once). I have been in touch with the local tourist information centre and made some suggestions for an exhibition there on the theme of local literary connections (and Croydon has quite a few, believe it or not) so I will follow that up over the next day or two. I crawled out of my comfort zone and ventured into Brighton all by myself last Thursday to attend a Society of Authors seminar at the wonderful Jubilee Library - and that was a real eye-opener. I met Judy Cornwell!! We shook hands and chatted and sat next to each other and I understood I was back in my true world. I suddenly realised I have been starving myself of litarary oxygen. I truly need to mingle with other writers from time to time.

On top of all that, I have actually been invited to take part in an exclusive poetry competition and that is the first time that has ever happened. I am writing whenever I get the chance, and looking for new openings all the time. It is amazing how inspired and alive I feel again. I am always telling aspiring poets and writers to believe in themselves and their writing. I have always been good at firing up others. But none of that amounts to a thing if I don't pratice what I preach, does it? Current projects include re-establishing contact with the Duchess of York with regards to picking up the thread of an idea for a project we got close to a couple of years ago that never came to fruition. I am also trying to contact a number of celebrities with a view to asking them to read and comment on the Yucketypoo series so that they can be quoted on the cover of either the second or third book. I have somehow become involved with the Earl's Court Literature Festival which takes place in July (long story - tell you about that another time) and I am seeing new chances everywhere I look. All I need now is an agent - sadly that still eludes me and it is not through lack of trying. Eventually I will find one. And a website - which I am working on.

I am offering my services as a writer and critic to anyone that needs it. I am good at what I do.
Contact me. I'd love to help you turn your writing career around, too.

THE WRITER IS LOOSE

Have just spent twenty-five infuriating minutes trying to restore my photo to this blogspot after its mysterious disappearance the other week. Where did it go? And why? Is someone trying to tell me something? I found it - in the end. But not before all manner of expletives had turned the air blue and the PC had almost ended up crashing through the window!

It is Wednesday 25 February 2009 - it is just ten months until Christmas day! Ok. Ok. I promise I won't mention Christmas again until much nearer the time. It is now 07.47 and I am in the office at the day job, having come in early specifically to do a new blog. It is a grey, overcast morning. The sky is like moulten lead, the air is still and the 10,000 seagulls that seem to have adopted the airspace immediately above us recently, are nowhere to be seen. In fact it seems a little too quiet. The weather itself has improved marginally. After some drizzle yesterday, today it is at least warmer and dryer.

This is of great relief to my left knee which is very unwell and rather desperately in need of an operation to put it right. It really cannot tolerate the cold at the moment, but even when it isn't cold, that knee just can't tolerate anything. If I sit still for too long, it grizzles and complains. If I try to run anywhere it moans and groans. If it decides it has walked enough it sings grand-opera! A physiotherapist friend of mine spotted me hobbling about on it a few weeks back and promptly wrote a referral to my doctor, who contacted the hospital, who organised an appointment, that was overseen by a consultant, who concluded it is arthritis. I am scheduled for an op ( my first one since my appendix almost burst twenty odd years ago) which will involve the bones beeing scraped and the knee itself being flushed out. It sounds horrific but if it means I will eventually be able to walk without being in agony, and sleep through the night safe in the knowledge that I won't wake up in desperate pain at one in the morning, then I am prepared to put myself through it. Anyway it will mean two weeks off work so who am I to complain? That, to me, means two weeks in which to Write, Write, Write.

Things have really started to move of late. I have signed up with two publishing groups who employ so-called Ghost writers and within days, one of them sent me a brief for a series of boy's adventure stories. The commission will mean five books, each between ten and twelve thousand words, targeted at 7 to 10 year olds. I have been very busy drafting the one sample chapter they need by the end of next week to put me in the running. So far, so good. I am loving it. I work so much better when I have a schedule (or a deadline) to work to. And even if I don't get it, at least the company took me seriously enough to give me the option to have a go! Who knows where it could lead to?

The new Yucketypoo book, I have been told, is due to be published 'very soon' similtaneously in the UK and the USA; furthermore, the first book is about to be re-branded so its appearance looks more in line with the second book and, eventually, with the third and final book. The third and final book needs updating and I am arranging a meeting with a representative of a company that deals with envirornment friendly fuels to help it on its way. Once the entire series is complete, maybe those large chain retailers that expressed an interest in stocking it as one unit will pick up the option and give it their best shot.

On top of all that - I am very pleased to announce - the poet is back! I am looking at a number of new openings that could lead to regular Work so fingers crossed.

I tell you, this writing life! When it is going badly, it feels like the end of the world. But when it is going well - the sky's the limit.

Gotta dash - it is 08.23 and the day job commences in seven minutes ...................

'S NO JOKE.......

Had Youngest Stepdaughter's two last weekend. Eldest Granddaughter and Youngest Grandson ran Hubby and I ragged the whole time. E.G has become a proper little madam with the most infectious giggle and sense of humour. She has this way of looking at you as if you were the dumbest kid on Earth which is somewhat unnerving in a three year old. Y.G is into everything. He managed six steps all by himself before plopping onto his bottom and giving himself a round of applause. It was a different thing entirely when he borrowed E.G's dolls pram. With something to hang onto he zoomed across the floor, not stopping until the pram collided with the French windows. I had this vision that if there were no obstacles in the way he would be quite capable of walking in a straight line forever. He has also learned how to be very defiant. He squirted his milk all over the carpet so I said firmly "NO!". He looked up at me, gave me a gummy grin - and promptly squirted milk all over the carpet again. "NO!" I reitereated. When the milk hit the carpet for the fourth time I confiscated the bottle and then had to endure the screaming ab-dabs for the next five minutes.

On the Sunday morning, I thought it would be an adventure to walk them over to the paper shop. Y.G was in the buggy and well bundled up and E.G refused to wear her scarf, hat and mittens. With every step we took it got colder and colder - the temperature was just plummeting every second. By the time we were on our way back some ten minutes later both youngsters were crying from the cold. I didn't blame them. I was almost crying myself. I told E.G, "Let's put your scarf and hat on at least!" But she flatly refused. "Well then don't cry because you're cold!" I said rather unsympathetically. They were okay once they'd thawed out back in the warm embrace of the house but I did mentally question the logic of a three year old who cries when she's cold but simply won't wear a scarf and hat!

Mummy picked them up at lunch time. As we waved them off the arctic winds forced a hasty retreat from the doorstep and within a couple of hours it was snowing. And snowing. And snowing. When I got up for work on Monday there was almost a foot of the white stuff draping everything. Hubby and I checked the weather updates on TV. Warnings were rife not to go out unless you absolutely had to. All bus services had been suspended but no-one mentioned the tramlink and finally at 7.15, Hubby began to escort me to the tram stop. Half way there, with snow up to my knees and a blizzard swirling around us, we met a group of people who told us the tamlink service has also been suspended so we turned round and went home again. A series of text messages and mobile phone calls finally confirmed that no-one was going to get to work that day so we spent it indoors watching TV and seeing the snowdrifts grow and grow and grow. The last time I recall snow like that is when I was living in a flat in Mitcham some twenty years ago!

Tuesday dawned frozen and cold. I checked and found that there were some buses so left home at 7.10 arriving at the office two hours later after some very long detours. It was complete mayhem. Even the staff at West Croydon Bus Station didn't know what buses were running and which ones weren't. Around half a dozen staff managed to get in that day and most finished by three to make sure no-one got stranded and, even though things were more or less back to normal yesterday there are still great huge clods of frozen snow everywhere and walking along our quiet little cul-de-sac this morning was a complete nightmare! I live in terror of having a prat-fall and making a complete idiot of myself.

Personally I think the snow brings out the kid in most of us. There is still something of a thrill in seeing your own footprints in virgin snow and there are plenty of smiley snow-people beaming at passers-by from front gardens. And of course I just had to take some photographs of our snow-covered garden and neighbourhood. It looks so pretty and it has this knack of bringing out the community spirit in everyone, with neighbours all waving at one another where, more often than not, we are all generally too busy getting on with our lives to even notice each other. But I am beginning to tire of it now, I must admit, and have huge hankerings for the first pink blossoms of spring and being able to walk the streets without the fear of breaking an ankle at every step!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

I was shocked this morning when I realised that I haven't witten a blog for a month! It seriously doesn't feel long since I rambled on about Secret Santas and Cristmas prezzies and suddenly - here we are in 2009! How did that happen? Anyway may I wish you all a very happy, lucky and successful new year whatever your aims and goals are. Now - where was I? Oh yes - the Secret Santa. My name had fallen to a male colleague but I have to say I was quite pleasantly surprised by his choice of gift. It was a pair of figurines from Doctor Who. They actually double as a set of walkie-talkies but I have just added them to my collection of dolls, teddies and thunderbirds memorobelia. They feature the Doctor (in his Christopher Eccleston guise) and the chief Slitheen and each fugure stands at least 12 inches tall so I wasn't complaining. In fact it was quite a relief because I seriously didn't know what to expect.

So how was your Christmas? The overall mood of 2008 did not really change over the festive season. My lovely neighbour Lily (see blog from 11.9.07)passed away the Monday before Christmas, my sweet little cat died of old age the Saturday after and on the 30th, I went to Lily's funeral. Despite all that though, Hubby and I did manage to enjoy our day - our first Christmas alone together in all the years we have been together (almost 26 of them). It was quiet and unhurried and we had a nice leisurely time. Then, for New Year, we went down to rural Danehill in West Sussex to cheer January in with Youngest Sister and co. which was a good laugh.

Do you have any plans for 2009? I am signing up for a promotion drive with Lollypop which bodes well for the future, I received my first EVER royalty cheque which was a massive achievement and I have already had a letter published (in Mslexia) this year! Plus I am feverishly researching and note-scribbling for the new novel (and I will tell you more about that soon, as well). My plan is to keep the momentum going and make this the Year of Me. I am recommending that everyone I know does the same!

Enjoy!