Browsing Tag

writing

Wherever, whenever…a writer writes

Writing is like life—you remember where you were when the important things happened.

When Livi Callaway threw caution to the wind for a Parisian kiss, in All Over the Place, I was tucked up under the covers in our smallest ever house—so tiny, you could vacuum the whole place from one power point.

When I realised that Cady (in The Same But Different) was about to get arrested in San Francisco, I was sitting on the bed in our tumbledown rental on the clifftop, where we watched cruise ships coming in and out (and wished we were on board!).

And while A North So True’s Zoe and Jakob were skating on a moonlit Swedish lake, under scattered northern stars, I had a view of summer treetops outside my current bedroom window.

Obviously, I write in/on my bed a lot! Because why wouldn’t you, really? But my old MacBook has seen action in all kinds of other places too—and I thought it would be fun to show you a few of them.

At gymnastics, and waiting for my mum at her physio appointment…

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At the back of the music room during guitar lessons, and at tae kwon do…

*IMG_2684   *Writing at Tae Kwon Do

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And noisiest of all—at Inflatable World. Industrial-strength fans + super-hyped kids.

If you’re a writer and a mother, no ruckus can come between you and your story!

 

 

 

 

Sometimes it gets a little more glamorous…

*Writing by the pool

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But mostly it’s just me and Purdy. 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

*New Mac

 

Now I have a beautiful new computer (cue angels singing), and PLANS—for all the places we’ll go, and all the stories yet to come.

There’s a summery, sexy new series in the works for 2016…watch this space!

 

 

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Meanwhile, A North So True is almost here! It’s already available for preorder at iBooks, and it’ll hit Amazon, B&N, Kobo and Tolino on April 14.

There are a very limited number of places left on the advance read and review team—so if you’d like to read Zoe and Jakob’s snow-kissed story, and can commit to leaving a review soon after release day, let me know, and I’ll send you a free copy.

For more details, just get in touch via my contact page! 🙂

 

 

 

A North So True

Love has its own latitude. 

Zoe Bailey’s transient childhood left her with a passport full of stamps, an ambiguous accent, and nowhere to call home. And as a grown-up, her career at a relentlessly slick London PR firm has been half-hearted at best—until she travels on assignment to Lillavik as a not-quite-legit wildlife volunteer.

The tiny Swedish village holds a smorgasbord of secrets…and Jakob Westermark. Aloof and wild, like the wolves he studies, Jakob has good reason for keeping his distance. But it’s cold, he’s hot, and the temptation to mix pleasure with business is too strong for Zoe to resist.

Then Jakob’s wolves are threatened, and suspicion turns her way. With more to lose than she ever imagined, Zoe sets out to untangle the hidden threads running through Lillavik…and maybe, finally, find her own true north.

 

When Stephen King met Jim Morrison

Amy WinehouseYou’ve probably heard of the 27 Club—that exclusive group of musicians who died at the age of 27, after a short life of wild excess. Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain and Amy Winehouse all joined the club, leaving their fans bereft and guaranteeing themselves a place in rock legend.

That rock ’n’ roll lifestyle, huh? You wouldn’t read about it…and if you did, you wouldn’t believe it. That’s the trick with fiction. People want a page-turner. But if you put in something really extraordinary, they say ‘pfft, that would never happen!’ Well, I’m here to tell you that it would. Here are just a few things I discovered while researching for my book All Over the Place

Jim MorrisonJim Morrison is in the club—he died when he was 27. Well, that’s what they WANT us to believe. Actually, he’s alive and living in the Seychelles. No, he’s really a cowboy in Oregon. And he also has a regular gig playing a small club in Anaheim. Seriously though, he’s in the Lone Star state: Stephen King reports picking up a hitchhiker in Texas he swears was Jim Morrison.

There’s no disagreement about the fact that Brian Jones from the Rolling Stones was 27 when he died. He drowned in the swimming pool at his English country house, the former home of Pooh Bear and the real Christopher Robin. Murder was suspected, but never proven. Later, the swimming pool was re-tiled. And in 2001—not wanting to let an opportunity go to waste—the Brian Jones Fan Club offered the old tiles to souvenir hunters for £130 each, every one numbered, with a certificate of authenticity. Classy.

Sid & NancyAnd don’t people love to blame their mothers for their problems? Try this one. Everyone knows the story of Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen. When she was found dead in their hotel bathroom with a single stab wound, Sid claimed to know nothing about it. He overdosed not long afterwards, having only made it to 21. It’s rumoured that his mother confessed to giving him a lethal injection of heroin, so he wouldn’t have to face a jail term for Nancy’s murder. No one knows where his ashes are—some say his mother scattered them on Nancy’s grave in Philadelphia. But witnesses claim to have seen her accidentally spill them at London’s Heathrow airport, where they were blown around by the airport ventilation system. Thanks mum.

“There’s nothing glorious in dying,” wrote Johnny Rotten later, in his autobiography. “Anyone can do it.”

Watching the VMAs this year made me wonder what stories we’re yet to hear about today’s stars, up there collecting their awards. Some of them have made it to 28 and beyond already. Others are still waiting to discover what 27 holds. Whatever happens, we’re sure to read about it—and somewhere, a writer will probably use it for inspiration. As they say, truth is stranger than fiction…but turning it into fiction can be a lot of fun!

To see where fact meets fiction in All Over the Place, head to your favourite retailer:
AMAZON  |  AMAZON UK  |  BARNES & NOBLE  |  KOBO  |  iBOOKS

 

We apologise for the delay in 2014…

Here in New Zealand, the new year is always about a month late. January is school holidays, beach days, barbecues, sand in every corner of the house, mosquitos, bare feet, and long, soft evenings under the stars. The children stay up too late and go brown despite our best efforts with sunscreen. And we eat so many strawberries that we almost get tired of them. (Almost!)

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From the fields to our tummies.

Come February, the country hitches up its pants and gets back to work, gazing out the window at the wide blue sky, hanging out for the weekend. But some of us can’t wait to get back to our work.

The amazing Theresa Ragan shared a quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson in her newsletter today: “We become what we think about, all day long.” Almost every writer I know thinks about writing all day long. And most of us half the night too, as we lie awake plotting our books and our careers! Not to mention all the times we jolt awake, desperately trying to hold onto the threads of a disappearing dream that would make the best book…

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I thought I was going THAT way…but okay!

So as a writer, January isn’t wasted – and this year it’s been especially interesting. Between kid-wrangling and icecream-scooping, I spent the month thinking, all day long, about a new plan. And by February 1, I knew my year was going to be completely different from how I’d imagined it on January 1.

But more on that later. In the meantime, wherever you are, and whatever season you’re in, I hope your 2014 is shaping up to be a happy and successful year. And maybe a little unexpected too…

Happy New Year!

 

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Blue sky dreaming…