The Hit List - publication day

I'm very happy to announce that my latest novel, m/m romantic comedy The Hit List, is now published by Amber Allure, where you can also read a brief extract.

The blurb is:

Jamie Chadwick is straight. Determinedly straight. Or so he keeps telling himself. His small conference business is doing okay and, even though he looks after his ailing father, he loves living in the countryside and life is good. Sort of. But the arrival of old college friend, David Fenchurch, who’s just come out on the distinctly camp side of camp, together with Lucy Reid, his father’s sexy new physiotherapist, sets Jamie on a path he’d never dreamed of taking. On top of all that, the unexpected return of long-lost family friend, Robert Trevelyan, himself openly gay, means that Jamie can no longer ignore the past he’s kept hidden for six years. When Robert and David get together, Jamie’s feelings begin to surface in surprising ways. Who, amongst the crowd of people set to blow his life apart, will make it onto his fantasy hit list? And in the midst of Jamie’s own emotional battlefield, how can he keep things together at all?


I'm really happy with this one, as it's taken me six years to get it right - which, coincidentally is roughly the amount of time it takes Jamie & Robert to get their very rocky relationship sorted out too. All of which proves that writers do indeed grow to be like their characters, in time. I'm also happy to say it's a very different beast in tone from its distant self-published beginnings, and it's great to feel I can finally let it go, having got it to where I wanted it to be, probably all along.

Anyway, at heart, it's a modern, gay retelling of Jane Austen's Emma, so I hope you might take a chance on it and enjoy the read! The ebook is available now, with the paperback being published in mid-March. There's also a book trailer, featuring some rather good-looking young men, so what could be nicer on a Sunday?

Meanwhile, in other news, Lord H and I saw a chiffchaff yesterday (hurrah!) so another bird to be added to this year's list. And here's this week's haiku:

Words batter like rain.
They soak my skin, infiltrate
blood and aching bone.


Anne Brooke - in romantic and humorous mood
The Prayer Seeker's Journal

Herons and poetry

Having something of a down day today, so bear with me. I've taken two calming pills and am hoping it's the hormones. I keep getting all tearful for no real reason, sigh ... Ah well, no change there then. I blame it on the flow writing I started doing today - which is basically when you start writing and just jot down whatever comes up without thinking about it. Actually I found the whole exercise quite upsetting really - perhaps you have to be strong to do this kind of thing? Or maybe it just needs getting used to. I'm doing it as preparation that's been suggested in my new online poetry course that starts in January. They've also given us a sneak preview of the homework for Weeks 1 and 2, so I've been fiddling around with surreal poetry games and childhood memories. Something of a tricksy combination then ...

Oh, and here's the poem I've been discussing in this week's poetry group. It's a series of linked haikus:

Silence

First of all, seek this:
absence in your outward breath,
a folded wingtip

waiting for the sun.
The silken silence of air
dances on your skin

and you fall, dreaming,
into soft pathway shadows.
Stars and still music.


On the plus side, I've been contacted by my editor for A Stranger's Touch so I'm looking forward to working with her to get that story ready for publication. At the same time - deep, deep sigh - the contract for The Hit List that I sent off on Monday has been delivered back to me as the ruddy UK post office can't understand the concept of "To" and "From" on the address label. When I've stopped being upset and tearful about it, I imagine I'll find it funny. I'm just odd about contracts - once I've signed them, I want them to wing their way back to the publisher, not come limping home to me. I shall ask Lord H to take it in tomorrow and see if they'll try delivering it to the correct people this time. Hey ho.

Yesterday, I walked round campus and was treated to the magical sight of a grey heron on the side of the pond. Quite close too. As it was raining, I was the only person there, which was great. I watched it for a while and, after it flew off, a rather large fish began to jump out of the pond almost as if it was dancing. All very strange. There are sharks in them thar waters, you know.

Meanwhile, today I've had a glorious Clarins massage from the stand-in therapist (my usual one is off sick, poor thing). All incredibly relaxing. I even tried to do some clothes shopping afterwards, but just couldn't bear it once I'd walked into a shop. So had to walk out again. I don't know what it is - but I can't seem to buy any new clothes at the moment. Every time I try, I am overcome by despair and panic. Lord knows what's going on in my head - but if you see a spaced-out woman wandering round the streets looking distinctly threadbare, that'll be me. Please offer me a blanket and send me home.

Anne's website - envious of fish and herons who don't need clothes ...

A Stranger's Touch and The Executioner's Cane

Well, gosh, it's been a wild weekend for writing news, I can tell you! Where do I start?? First off, I have a brand-new web page for my upcoming short story, A Stranger's Touch, plus an extract from the beginning. It's due out in eBook version on 24 January 2010, so should warm the chilly New Year, I hope. Here's the glorious cover art provided by Amber Quill Press:



Ain't it grand? I am soooo pleased with it I am virtually frothing at the mouth (hell, what an unpleasant image ...). Huge thanks to Trace Edward Zaber who produced it! Here's the blurb:

Male prostitute, Red, is given an assignment by his pimp and lover, Robbie, with a very unusual client. Red meets the stranger in a darkened house in London and, during their sessions, he learns more than he ever knew about lust, love and his own personal history. How will his curious and life-enhancing encounters with the stranger affect his relationship with Robbie and his clients, and can love ever be part of a hooker's life at all?

Equally fabulous news is that Amber Quill Press have accepted The Hit List for eBook and paperback publication in Spring 2010, hurrah! Still frothing at the mouth then - sorry ... So I've updated my web page here. No cover art as yet, but I'm very much looking forward to what Trace will come up with.

Finally, on the writing front, I've added in a new web page for The Executioner's Cane, together with an extract, so I'm on the way with that one at last. Hurrah!

Phew! Can the weekend actually get any better? All I really need is for someone to say yes to The Gifting, for Waterstone's to ring me up begging me to do a signing for them (as if ...), and for Mondays to be cancelled everywhere, and my happiness would be complete. Keep wishing, eh.

Earlier in the week, Lord H and I also popped over to the dreaded Car Parking Hell that is Woking and saw Matthew Bourne's latest ballet, Dorian Gray. Hmm. All very clever, but not a patch on the joys and heartfelt emotions of the male Swan Lake, which has to be Bourne's best ballet yet. Heck, I could watch that one loads of times and never get bored. For this one, I thought there wasn't enough colour on the stage or indeed plot, though the dancing was magnificent. You can't ever emulate Wilde's magnificent prose in a non-writing format really. If you see what I mean. And I actually did find myself wishing the menfolk would put some clothes on and stop simulating sex on stage quite so much - they must have been freezing, poor things, and it was putting me off my mint choc ice. The aircon in the theatre packs one hell of a punch. Am I turning into my grandmother after all?? God forbid.

And, mixing religion with sex (as ever), Lord H and I have had great fun sorting out the post-church coffees this morning. Ah, if only they knew what I'd been up to during the week in terms of literary and dramatic eroticism, perhaps they wouldn't be quite so keen on having us smiling like little devils at the back, eh. Oh well.

Anne's website - where sex and religion meet together

Holiday delights and sandpiper porn

The holiday was great - the weather was kind and I loved it. The only slight problem was that for some reason I was sick as a dog the first night so was up for most of it. Unfamiliar bathrooms are never pleasant when you're ill. Still, at least I got a lot of the puzzles in my Puzzler magazine done. How I love puzzles.

We also managed to see several new birds including a glorious great white egret which was absolutely stunning, twite, Dartford warblers (which we've been chasing for a while) and bearded tits (firsts for this year only). Ooh, and today we popped over to Staines and caught a brief glimpse of the brown shrike currently staying there, so that was fun. Less fun was the appalling amounts of mud there is all over the place - thank the Lord for Wellington boots, eh ...

Quirky thing of the week: Lord H was reading through the latest copy of one of the birding magazines, who are having a big focus on encouraging sandpipers to breed more effectively. Husband is therefore now musing on what, exactly, sandpiper porn might be. Best not to go there really.

And on my return, I see that my short story, Speaking Her Mind, has been accepted for publication by the Chick Lit Review, and new e-publisher, Untreed Reads, is very interested in my literary short, How to Eat Fruit. So that all looks hopeful. Less hopeful is I've had my first rejection for the much-revised version of The Hit List, from a publisher who says my hero Jamie isn't terribly nice at the start. Well, he's a hell of a lot nicer than he was in the original, I can tell you, and with the amount of personal stress he's under at the beginning, I'm rather surprised he hasn't lost his temper with a lot more people, really. Is it just me or are GLBT heroes getting way too wimpy for words these days?? Anyone who'd like a kick-ass but basically kind-hearted GLBT hero with balls (as it were), please apply here. In the meantime, I've submitted it to a couple of other places, and we wait and see.

Anne

Church, chilling and Champers

Here's today's poem:

Meditation 232

There’s an awful lot
of travel
in the early church

so it’s obvious
that sainthood
would never have suited me

at all.


Church today was okay - quite a good sermon about relationships really - but we had one of those horrid dirge-like hymns I can't stand for the third hymn. Groan. Way too many verses in "Lord Jesus Christ, You have come to us" for my liking and there's no plotline to it, Carruthers. Dull, dull, dull - as Craig Revel-Horwood would say. Mind you, I had fun watching the server attempting to subtly fish a fly out of the communion cup with his special holy napkin before we all queued up for the extra protein today. Never mind swine flu - what about fly flu, eh? When it was my turn, I made a quick inspection to see if it was still there and took a sip between terrifyingly closed lips just in case. Ah, the pains and perils of church indeed. Talking of which, I have cracked and put Lord H's and my names down for coffee rota duties towards the end of November. I hope it won't be the slippery slope of commitment. Lord knows I don't want to go there again. Though I'm determined to start the Cake Wars - our cake offering will have to set a new standard that the following rota person won't be able to keep up with, and then with any luck they won't ask us again. Aha!

Oh and further communion confusion has sadly arisen as our female vicar decided to say everyone's names while giving us the bread today. Now, the First Thing they should teach you in Vicar School is never to do that, as a terrible error will no doubt ensue. Which it did - as the server who was following on with the wine (plus dead fly ...) didn't quite hear what she called Lord H and so decided to say in ringing tones, "The Blood of Christ, Peter" when Lord H came to the wine. Lord H (whose name isn't Peter, by the way) wonders if he is now taking communion on behalf of another person called Peter along the lines of ancient orthodox tradition, or if he is simply doomed always to be known as Peter in this particular church. He's also wondering whether he should take Mexican nationality and change his name to Jesus, because then the server could say with confidence and some theological accuracy, "The Blood of Christ, Jesus". Ah, decisions, decisions. Really, I'd much rather be known as Algernon and Fatima, as I've always wanted to hear the words, "The Blood of Christ, Fatima" said in church. Alas, I may have to wait some time.

Meanwhile, I'm getting on with the edits for The Hit List, which is turning out to be more strongly romantic and with less described sex than I'd anticipated. Something of a surprise then, but I have to do what the characters say and they know best. If only I'd listened to them both in the first place, The Hit List might have been rather better rather sooner. Still, at least there's some hope now that I'll get it to where I want it to be. One day.

I've also asked the lovely Penelope Cline for a new cover for Pink Champagne and Apple Juice in preparation for self-publishing it in paperback via Lulu. Penelope did the fantastic covers for A Dangerous Man and Thorn in the Flesh - so I'm very much looking forward to seeing what she will come up with. Thanks, Penelope!

Finally on the book front, I'm pleased to say that The Bones of Summer appears in the lists for the new Rainbow Awards for Mystery/Thriller Fiction - under List 4, and might even have garnered one or two votes already - so thank you for that indeed! There are some good books there so do pop along and have a browse. You can even add your own choices if you can't find anything you like.

Tonight, I'll be videoing the first part of Emma on TV, as there's something on about Pompeii on the other side, so we really must watch that. Ooh, and I caught up with a double bill of Ugly Betty this afternoon, hurrah! Here's this week's haiku:

Trio of balloons
sets the sky afloat: blue-grey
messengers of dusk.


Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Church
3. Editing The Hit List
4. New Champers cover
5. The Bones of Summer award listing
6. TV
7. Haikus.

Anne's website
Sexy Scavengers October book competition

Golf, haircuts and Hit Lists

Is it Friday already? Well golly gosh indeed. Here's today's poem:

Meditation 231

While one man
betrays his town

to a bloody death,
another is lowered

from a city wall
in a basket

and creeps away
into night.

Perhaps it’s better
to be a woman after all.


Managed to play some pretty dire golf again today, but thankfully it wasn't as bad as last week. If I could only try to remember to hit the ball with the clubhead rather than with that funny sticky thing, I think everything would be a damn sight better. Ho hum. Mind you, both Marian and I ended on a rather triumphant par, so honour was satisfied. Partially.

And there's good news on the hair length front: my hairdresser has been trying to get my hair to be the same length all the way round rather than in layers for months and months and today we feel we've finally arrived at those dizzy heights, hurrah! Right now, I look quite presentable, though I fear it will not last. Experience dictates this ...

Meanwhile, I attempted to release some of the tension I've gathered during the week at my Alexander Technique lesson - really, I do make the tutor work for the wages. This week coming I have to focus on having a floaty head and breathing with my back. Ye gods, anything could happen, but it makes some sort of sense. Honest.

And I've been busy with the edits to The Hit List. And still enjoying it too. It's odd how that novel has been the one I hate to remember, but when I actually look at it seriously it's not that bad. Yes, I need to kick the crime section into touch, and bring out the romance which is, in my opinion, what the book is really about - but in some ways it feels as if it's always been there. Waiting for me to get down to this edit, I suppose. Maybe I just didn't have the confidence before.

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Golf
3. Haircuts
4. Alexander Technique
5. Editing The Hit List.

Anne Brooke
Sexy Scavengers Competition - book prizes galore!

Salt, Gold and Sexy Scavengers

I'm pleased to say that the revised version of Salt and Gold is now available from the Lulu store at a very reasonable price, if anyone is so tempted. I'm hoping it will also be available on Amazon at some point, but I'll let you know when that transpires. And if they allow it.



Speaking of which, here's today's poem:

Meditation 230

Sometimes blindness
leads to sight

and palm trees
to iron chariots.

Everything that is
contains its opposite

twin and is as fluid
as the ungraspable air.


Have had a lovely morning today - my first port of call was a glorious back and facial massage with Alice, the Clarins gal. My, how I've needed that this week - the thought of it has been keeping me going through the start of the week for sure. After that I also met Jane H (hello, Jane!) for lunch and a catch-up, which was totally lovely. Really, I should do more of this Lady of Leisure stuff - I think it suits me.

On the way back, I popped into the doctor's to pick up my latest prescriptions, but only one of them was in store - so I have a fresh supply of nasal spray (hurrah! Breathing is sooo useful ...), but have to go back tomorrow for my HRT packages. And it's such a nightmare to park at the surgery at the moment too as they appear to be rebuilding it from scratch. The poor pharmacy lady has to ply her trade from what is little more than a Portaloo.

Anyway, this afternoon, I have been updating my website with the latest poetry news, and creating mini-sites for Salt and Gold - as above - and also for A Stranger's Table. I'm pleased that both my extant poetry collections now have their own separate worlds, however tiny.

I've also been continuing the edit to The Hit List, and am now on page 200, which is about two-thirds through. It's a real slow-burn romance, that one, but I like it and it seems right for the angsts and uncertainties of the two men involved. They'll get there. They're just taking their time.

Tonight, I'm looking forward to It Takes Two, with Claudia, and - are the rumours true? - is Boris Johnson in EastEnders?? Now there's something I really have to watch. But, my goodness, soon we won't be able to tell real life and fantasy life apart at all ...

Finally, and very excitingly, I've been included in the Dark Divas Sexy Scavengers October competition and there are a multitude of book prizes to win (including one of my own books). So do pop along and enter. The deadline is (of course!) Halloween. Good luck!

Today's nice things:

1. The revised Salt and Gold collection
2. Poetry
3. Clarins massage
4. Lunch with Jane
5. Website
6. A Stranger's Table having its own small page
7. Editing The Hit List
8. TV
9. The Sexy Scavengers competition.

Anne Brooke
Sexy Scavengers - the place to be

Wisley, sculpture and chilling

Am making the most of the day before the onslaught of Freshers' Week next week. Honestly it's been really great today that I haven't had to talk to anyone apart from Lord H. Bliss. Here's today's poem:

Meditation 229

Water and prayer
quench the dry land’s thirst

and wash sin away.
If only

you could bottle both.


So we've had a delightful amble through the joys of Wisley, which included the excitements of the Sculpture Trail that was today's special event. I particularly thrilled to the glorious sculpture of different sized fish on bicycles. Called Cycling School, it was utterly delightful and a work of genius perfectly placed. Wonderful. Here's a link to a photograph of it. Ain't that magical?... And here's a link to the sculptor - some fabulous pieces there too. Anyway, we had lunch out at the Wisley cafe, which was very pleasant though it did appear that the staff were on a go-slow in terms of collecting up dirty plates. We suspect the scary manager isn't on today - every other time we've been there, the clearing up has been astonishingly good and the moment a table is vacated, it's cleared and wiped down for the next people. As it should be really. Today, the system was something of a mess. Ah well.

This afternoon, I've had a much-needed nap - heck, I need all the strength I can get for the week to come, I fear. Later, we'll be looking at holidays (hurrah!) and I'll probably do some more editing to The Hit List. Robert is looking sultry and mysterious. Always get your characters to play to their strengths, eh. And there's sod-all on TV, sigh.

I've also enjoyed Mary Beard's Pompeii, which is a non-fiction study of that tragic town. Very interesting indeed, though I did feel it was rather too heavy in places. But a highly useful manual if you're intending to visit, which we are, at some point.

Here's this week's rather sparse haiku:

Nothing in my head
this week is worth the paper
I scribble it on.

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Wisley
3. Sculptures
4. Napping
5. Editing The Hit List
6. Books
7. Haikus.

Anne Brooke - something of a fish on a bicycle herself
Pink Champagne and Apple Juice - ideal Sunday drinking

Golf and glittery frocks

What a glorious day it's been today - an Indian summer indeed. Here's today's verse:

Meditation 227

Sometimes the only thing
that counts
is the wild shedding

of blood:
from the small agonies
of ancient kings –

names long forgotten –
to the murderous fury
of Paul

as he condemns to darkness
those he’s come
to hate,

it has always been so.


Not really suited to the weather, I know, but what the heck eh. This morning, I have played a rollercoaster game of golf with Marian, which she rightfully won, as being far and away the most consistent player. I had an utterly appalling time on the sixth hole, where astonishingly I missed my first tee shot entirely, but managed somehow to knock the tee itself backwards (backwards?! I ask you!!) whilst leaving the ball still in its place on the mat. Just slightly lower. Ah, the shame. Though it was in some respects a shot of true genius. My second attempt knocked the ball a foot or so in front of me so I decided to try again. My third attempt sent the ball so high that it landed in a tree and then fell between the three split branches so it was completely unplayable. When I took my shot from the nearest point to there, it then went straight into the pond. Lordy. Marian by this time was beside herself with hysterical laughter, and I did wonder whether I should call for an ambulance. Just in case. Never say I'm not caring ... I eventually finished the damn hole in 12. 12!!! Shocking for a par 3 hole. Mind you, I managed to partially redeem myself by getting four apiece in the next three holes, but of course Marian still won. By a good mile.

I then popped into Godalming to restock my essential supplies of Quiet Life pills (over the next week I'm definitely going to need them ...) and peppermint oil. I aim always for a state of calm alertness. As you can tell, ho ho. I've also been working away on the edit to The Hit List and am now on p106 and a quarter of the way through. Robert's arrived. He's pretty damn hot. I forget how much I like Robert - nice to reacquaint myself with him again after so long. I'm enjoying this more than I anticipated I would, I must say.

Oh and I'm fighting a losing battle with trying to get DHL to deliver a parcel to me. They tried it yesterday, but were confused by the door arrangements and left a card without knocking. When I rang up this morning, I find the parcel number on the card is wrong, so they weren't sure for quite a while who the sender might be, and when I asked to change the delivery address to be Lord H's work one, I was told I couldn't do that as only the sender can change details. The sendee is too untrustworthy for such dizzy responsibility. After much argy-bargy, I gather they might try and redeliver here tomorrow, but of course I'll be out at the University welcoming Freshers with a bright smile and a lot of leaflets. Ah well, we'll wait and see then ...

Tonight, we have a Strictly Come Dancing TV extravaganza. I have promised Lord H I will be strong and not vote for anyone, but I told him that last week, and rushed to the phone back then to vote for Chris & Ola as soon as I could - so I fear my husband does not entirely believe me ... I must also do some kind of cleaning before I need to get my sparkly frock out. Bring on the glitter ball. As they say.

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Trick golf
3. Editing The Hit List
4. TV.

Anne Brooke - bamboozled by golf balls
The Bones of Summer - a truly sizzling read, naturally ...

Reviews and stonings

I have to say it's great not to be in the office today. Almost feels like being normal (perish the thought). Here's today's poem:

Meditation 226

To start the day:
a good stoning.
Cover your ears

and let sharp rocks
blanket the words
that pierce you most

while the rough cloaks
of murderers
lie heavy in your arms.


My, Saul of Tarsus/St Paul could be a bloodthirsty man on occasion. And really I can't blame him - Stephen the Martyr did go on so. If I'd been there, I might well have stoned him myself. Just to shut him up. Hush my mouth.

Anyway, I'm pleased to say that Maloney's Law has received a five star review on Amazon US, which you can read below:

“This is one compelling and riveting story. I could not put it down. Paul is one tortured soul and his mesmerizing narration grips me from page 1. International intrigues, heart stopping plot, gut wrenching love, a heart tugging friendship, Maloney's Law has it all. Paul is such a complex character. Flawed and pitiful when it comes to his obsessive love for a man who could never reciprocate. Yet without a thought for his life when his search for the truth drives him on. His tragic loss since childhood, his plunge into despair, his sense of justice, his struggle to live on, all these powerfully expressed by the writer. Just brilliant and I look forward to reading the sequel, The Bones of Summer, and more from Anne Brooke. My only regret is that I should have read this earlier.”

Gosh, thank you, R Parkland - so glad you enjoyed the read!

I've also received my proof copy of Salt and Gold and have made one or two corrections and lowered the price to £3.50 for the paperback. So I've asked for another proof copy and will wait to see what that looks like before I go properly public. As it were.

For the rest of the day, I've been continuing the edit of The Hit List and am now happily on p50. Which is roughly one-eighth through. Yes, I do need to cut drastically, as it's quite long for a comedy romance (which is what I'm now intending to make it, rather than comedy crime). We'll see how things shape up as we go on, as they say.

I've also had my back realigned at my Alexander Technique lesson - and goodness me but it needed it after two flights and a tense work week. I think I was all but Toblerone shaped when I walked in, but rather more normal (ho ho) when the lesson had finished. I have to think about inhabiting my space more, apparently. Trouble is, I do find people difficult (they're stealing my space, they're stealing it!) so I tend to duck down and shy away from them, especially if I don't know them. Which of course leads inevitably to a hunched back and a very stiff neck. Sigh. What a lot there is to relearn indeed. On oh so many levels.

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. The review of Maloney's Law
3. Tweaking Salt and Gold
4. Editing The Hit List
5. Alexander Technique.

Anne Brooke - conserving her sense of her own space to the best of her limited ability
Maloney's Law - a tortured soul made good ...

An imperfect past and shopping galore

I’m pleased to say that my review of Julian Fellowes’ almost perfect novel, Past Imperfect, is now up at Vulpes Libris. Definitely a novel worth the reading, in my opinion.

Though, keeping to the topic of book matters, I’m sad and very frustrated to say that the CoolReader company are being extremely difficult – Lord H has three times asked for our money back and each time they’ve come back with a standard sales email pitching something else to us that we can download from the internet to mend our machine. Well, to be honest, that isn’t good enough and I’m very unhappy about it. I don’t much care what patches they’ve produced to cobble the darn thing together now – the fact remains that they sold me a duff machine in the first place, then replaced it with another duff machine – and now the implication is that all the machines they sold must have been duff as they’re promoting this marvellous new “cure” for all. Well, we don’t want it. We just want our money back and we’re going to continue to keep asking them until that is achieved. How difficult can that be for them, for goodness sake??? Take this as a warning, anyone who is thinking of purchasing a CoolReader ...

Today I’ve been attempting to tackle writing up the minutes from yesterday’s meeting, plus the ones that were left over from before the holiday. But, really, my interest is very small, especially with Freshers’ Week looming over us and casting its long dark shadow. As it were. Plus I also have to think about the new and thrilling things I appear to have to do as a result of my review, but the thought of all that is pitching me into existential despair. Groan. And double groan. Besides, how can you improve on perfection?...

And still the excitement mounts – I popped out to Tesco’s at lunchtime to get in some shopping and then popped back after work to get some more. Lordy, but my days are so meaningful. Mind you, Ruth has improved the afternoon hugely by getting in the Starbucks order and she even sprinkled a chocolate topping on my cappuccino - thank you so much, Ruth! Where would I be without you?

Not much on TV tonight – apart from the glorious Claudia on It Takes Two. But I am starting to rejig my very first novel, The Hit List, and make it more acceptable (I hope) for the American GLBT market. Plus it needs a barrel-load of improvements and a thorough professional edit. So far I’m on page 4 and actually quite enjoying wielding that red pen. It used to be page 46 … Um, joke. Sort of.

Today’s nice things:

1. The Vulpes Libris review
2. Cappuccino
3. TV
4. Rejigging The Hit List.

Anne Brooke – pondering her own imperfect past …
Vulpes Libris: considering the perfection of the journey

A second edition, a surprising review and hacking away the thorns

Sorry, I've been working like a dog all day and there's no space in my brain for a snappy title. I'm ... um ... dog-tired. God, sorry. That's bad, even for me, but I can't be arsed to retype.

Have had my eyes glued to the computer and my fingers glued to the keyboard all day doing Thorn in the Flesh edits for Goldenford. I've done all the actual changes now, but am going through the styles so it's set in the desired format and - at the same time - redoing the traumas of the disastrous "search and replace" mistake I did on the speech quotes earlier in the day. Yes, that is 1048 changes to make, and no they're not easy to spot. Believe me. And, yes, if I search and replace them back to what they were, it means the other half go wrong too. Ah, choices, choices eh. Anyway, I'm up to Chapter 16 of 26, so only 10 of the buggers to go. And then, when that's all done, I'll be able to do the final read-through before sending it to Jackie who is the Queen of the PDF file.

All this has meant that Lord H is again in line for sainthood, as he's had to suffer the loss of his day off with Wife (though at least we did Dungeness yesterday, so have managed "us time" at least once this weekend, hurrah!). However, no complaints have been heard, and he's entertained himself by going out birdspotting in Ash and doing the shopping. Hell, he's knows what I'm like during final edits by now (answer: wide-eyed, pale and staring, with a peculiar disinterest in food) - but still gains SuperHusband points for forbearance. And he brought back flowers ...

... which were partly purchased to celebrate the astonishing arrival of my copy of the second edition of A Dangerous Man. Yes, I will say that again. I've got a bloody second edition!! This has never happened to me before, and bloody hell but it feels nice. The new version has review quotes on the back cover and even more inside, which is giving me a warm, loved glow I really don't get often. At least not in terms of the commercial publishing world. Somehow it makes the fact that I've only sold 110 copies all in, and will therefore never make it up to the dizzy heights of the Y List, much more palatable indeed. I keep picking the book up and hugging it. I might even sleep with it under my pillow tonight, but fear that even the noble Lord H might think that a madness too far.

On top of all that, the very kind Jill Weekes has posted a review of The Hit List (anyone remember that?) on her blog under today's date, but I include it here also:

"I finished reading Anne Brooke's The Hit List last night. If you want something a bit different - though not in the same vein as Pink Champagne and Apple Juice by the same author - then go for The Hit List. Jamie is doing sterling work looking after his cantankerous elderly father and running his own business from home. His half brother, Mark, the apple of his father's eye, is working in Japan. One of Jamie's friends from University returns to the village in Suffolk where he and his father live. But David appears to be gay, which he definitely never used to be - which worries Jamie - who soon adds him to his hit list of people he really needs to do away with to improve his quality of life. Then there is Robert - Mark's former boss - who turns up after six years away. The reason for his absence only becomes clear as the story progresses. Naturally his father who is always comparing him unfavourably with Mark is top of the hit list. I was on tenterhooks wondering how and when Jamie was going to succeed in carrying out his list. The sexuality of many of the main characters is constantly in doubt which adds to the drama. It is not a comfortable book though there are many moments of comedy."

Thanks, Jill! An extremely kind review, I think, for a book which even I find to be a difficult one. But, as I've said before, I couldn't have found my way in to Michael in A Dangerous Man without going through Jamie in The Hit List. In a strange way, Michael is really Jamie but without the jokes. At least that's how it felt like to me, as I went straight from THL to ADM without so much as a pause for breath. Pink Champagne and Apple Juice only came after the first draft of ADM was done.

Ooh, and talking of ADM, did I say a second edition is out?...

Today's nice things:

1. Getting to grips with Thorn - for better or for worse!
2. Jill's review of The Hit List
3. The second edition of A Dangerous Man (did I say that already??...)

Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers

Reflexology, Amazon mysteries and tackling Christmas

Spent the morning catching up with emails and organising meetings on top of the meetings that have already been organised. Just in case there aren’t enough. All this is made more exciting by the new system for booking catering – which has snuck up on us without trumpeting its approach. Instead of the usual email, there’s a lovely new form where you have to try to remember project codes without being prompted. A challenge too far for a Monday really, but I think I sussed it. In the end. I’ll know if I’ve done it right by whether food actually turns up on the day or not. My, how I like to live dangerously – I now have visions of starving academics weeping over empty plates.

And the new Starbucks is finally open! I haven’t tried it out yet, but will have to see if I can squeeze into the enormous queues sometime this week. Ruth is shocked that I would opt for a decaff – but, ye gods, I’m hyper enough without needing help. Can you imagine what I’d be like with caff??

I’ve also posted the requested copy of The Hit List to Jill Weekes so hope that gets to you okay, Jill. Thanks again for asking about it!

Had my reflexology session at lunchtime – wonderful, as ever. I won’t be able to go again for three weeks, so I’d better try and make the temporary sense of calm last. Talking of temporary feelings, the Monday morning sense of existential dread was particularly fierce today, but seemed to ease off at around 11am, thank goodness, rather than the usual high noon. Hmm, is it my hormones?? It’s a mystery …

Another great mystery is why Amazon have started describing all Goldenford and indeed all my books as being out of stock. Sigh. Just when I was hoping we might sell a few too. I’ve queried it with them but don’t expect an answer this side of the New Year. My advice is if you’d like a Goldenford book (and really what could be nicer …?!), click here and if you want to find out more about A Dangerous Man, click here.

Tonight, I tackled the first of my Christmas shopping (well, apart from things for Lord H of course, who is a special case) at Tesco. Yes, I am that mean. Sorry. I don’t really like Christmas, so will try almost anything to add it to my usual routine shopping rather than making special trips. Anyway, Tesco are good for biscuits and sweets, so it will cut a swathe through the list, I hope. Mind you, I’m cutting down on present-buying this time as much as possible and trying not to send cards to people I haven’t seen or contacted for a year, as why bother if the relationship really isn’t there? Yes, I know – I’m going to have to say it: Bah! Humbug! Phew, thank goodness I’ve got that out of the way.

I’m also planning to do some more to The Bones of Summer if I get a chance this evening – now I have a plot in mind, for the next few pages at least, I don’t want to lose the buzz.

And here’s a poem:

Mondays

are a triangle:
I'm squeezed

tight

at one end,
scrabbling

for meaning
and a life.

The day launches me,
unwilling rocket, into the vast

unknowable expanses

of the working week, with the weekend
an unimaginable dream.


Well, that’s just how it is sometimes, you know …

And my agent has at last contacted me! Rejoicing indeed - though subdued rejoicing, as the poor chap isn't terribly well. Back problems have prevented him answering any emails - rather than a desperate desire to cut off all contact with yours truly. Or maybe it's both?? Anyway, I hope he gets better soon and, in the meantime, I shall attempt to stop panicking and acting like a complete nervous wreck (on the other hand, I am used to that ...) and resign myself to hearing nothing about anything this side of the New Year. Heck, I'm used to that too!

Today’s nice things:

1. Reflexology
2. Getting home
3. Writing.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers

An unexpected review

Got up today - very, very slowly ... - expecting a day of dull weather and novel trogging, but was bumped out of my personal twilight zone by a very lovely email from reader, Jill Weekes, who'd really enjoyed Pink Champagne and Apple Juice and who was kind enough to put this review on Amazon:

"The story is as sparkling as its title. I was gripped from the first page and had to know what the history was behind the mysterious Uncle John. This book is so full of larger than life characters - Uncle John himself, Derek the bouncer, Heinrich the chef and Philippe the waiter. Not to mention Angie herself who shows how stubborn she is when it comes to achieving her goals. A brilliant read. I can just see it as a film or a tv drama."

and this review on her blog:

"I have just finished reading Anne Brooke's novel Pink Champagne and Apple Juice. It is really good. Angie runs away from home and descends unannounced on Uncle John - the black sheep of the family. He turns out to be a transvestite running his own club for like-minded people in Muswell Hill. How Uncle John welcomes her into his home and yet manages not to “corrupt” (her mother's word) her in the process makes for an amusing story. There are serious aspects to it though and Angie has to come to terms with John's role in the break up of her own family before the end of the story. As might be expected, the book is full of colourful and yet believable characters: Derek the doorman, Malcolm - Uncle John's lover - Philippe the French waiter and Heinrich the German chef who always cooks mushrooms. Thrown into the mix is Lisa - Angie's friend from university - who turns out to be less of a friend than might be expected. This is a brilliant story and it would make a good film or TV drama. Why it hasn't been snapped up by a mainstream publisher I don't know. It deserves to become a classic like John Hadfield's “Love on a Branch Line”. It doesn't fit into any particular category and will still be readable in 20 years’ time. Go out and buy it!"

Thank you so much, Jill - your enthusiasm has really made my day! And it means all the more as I sell so few books of anything I produce - it's nice to know that there are readers out there who like my stuff, even if publishers don't! Not only that but Jill has been inspired enough to buy two more Goldenford books - ie The Gawain Quest and Sold to the Lady with the Lime-Green Laptop - so I do hope you enjoy both of those, Jill. And she's also bought a copy of A Dangerous Man and even persuaded me to part with a copy of my least favourite novel, The Hit List (only available in printed copy from me now, thankfully ...), so, Jill, I hope you enjoy the former and survive the experience of the latter ...!

All this has encouraged me to crack on with The Bones of Summer and I've now done another 827 words to it - which brings me to a grand total of 42,005. So over halfway then. And I'm even doing a plot now - good Lord indeed! It would be nice to get to 50,000 by Christmas, but I'll have to see. These mid-novel blues are so long drawn-out and exhausting, and they happen every bloody time. Honestly, I should be used to them by now. If I hit 60,000 words, I'll feel better. I hope! And I might even know what the plot is by then. You never know.

While I've been hitting the keyboard (and staring in astonishment at what comes up on the screen), Lord H has been out in the wind and the rain and the cold to look at more birds. This time on Thursley Common. He came back just before (a very late) lunch, soaking wet and reporting that the best birds turned up while he was in the car changing into his walking shoes: a heron and a great-spotted woodpecker. By the time he actually did the walk, it was pouring and any sensible bird was lying low in its nest and waiting for better days. Ah well.

Anyway, I have cheered him up by managing (pause for amazed gasps ...) to cook a reasonable Sunday lunch and even made a plum and nectarine crumble. This time with proper crumble mix instead of the suet pudding mix disaster of last week. Or was it the week before? How the year flies by. Hell, I even made my grandmother proud and did custard - so my Wife Points must be as many as the grains of sand on the seashore by now. I wonder if I should have a Wife Card where I can store my points? If I did, I shall be sure to make it less complex than the ruddy Boot's card.

Today's moment of terror: as I was getting Craig across the room and into his very important appointment, a wasp flew in the window and landed right on my hand. Bloody hell! A wasp! At this time of year - it's ridiculous. Frankly, I blame Gordon Brown. This sort of thing didn't happen in the Blair Years, you know ... Anyway, my shrieks of terror brought the noble Lord H running and together the two of us managed to flap around enough to scare the enemy out of the other window. Phew. Another crisis averted, by George.

Tonight, I will be glued to the "Strictly Come Dancing" results and I must ring Mother and not tell her what they are afterwards - as she always videos it to watch later. Talking of which, I must catch up on last week's episode of "Heroes" before this week's comes upon me. And later there's Elizabeth Gaskell's "Cranford", which may possibly be ideal Sunday night TV - at last!

This week's haiku (well, I do hate going up to London and it was soooo cold!):

London's inner chill
scrapes my commuter skin clean
of hope, mercy, life.

Today's nice things:

1. Jill Weekes' lovely review of Champers
2. And Jill being enthusiastic enough to buy more books
3. Writing.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers

Mindfulness and a little bit of moaning

Felt better today - thank God. Or at least the world of work wasn't quite so overwhelming as it usually is. Probably because today is my last day this week and the rest of the week is mine - or as near as mine as possible, bearing in mind the amount of stuff I've got lined up till the weekend!

But before I get to today, I have to say thank you to Sue for nominating me for a Nice Blogger Award. I'm very grateful to be a recipient, naturally, even though I thought I leaned more towards Nasty Blogger, but there you go! I think this shows more of Sue's generosity of spirit and general kindness than it does mine, I have to say. I'm sorry though that I still haven't found a way of getting the banner for the Nice Blogger Award, nor indeed the Creative Blogger Award given to me by Cathy earlier on, onto the site. My technical abilities are sadly lacking, I fear ... However, undaunted by my web idiocy, I have decided to nominate Jackie Luben for a Nice Blogger Award as her blog is so lovely, and Irene Black for a Creative Blogger Award, as her photos are always stunning. Well done, both! But I'm afraid you'll have to find your appropriate banners either from Sue or from Cathy! Sorry ...

I also have to say that last night's "Gavin & Stacey" on TV was utter rubbish. Dull, flat and full of old, old jokes we've all heard or seen before. Triple yawn. They might as well retitle it "Terry & June" at this rate - at least T&J had more style. That's my moaning moment, in case you're wondering ... Though I did enjoy the adorable and funny/sexy Hugh Dennis in "Outnumbered" and will definitely be watching tonight. After "Heroes" of course.

Anyway, today at work hasn't been too bad. I finished off my Steering Group minutes, and am now heavily involved in rearranging the Student Care website. Quite a way to go yet, I fear, so please don't tell me the errors. Also had a lovely walk around the campus at lunchtime, and sat by the lake for a while trying to chill. Then had my interview with Susan at the Counselling Centre about the "Mindfulness" course. Quite a good chat, but we've decided that I won't consider it until next year - as I need time to cope with stuff that's going on now. Which is fair enough actually, and has certainly made me feel better.

Ooh, and I got my first payment for services rendered to Mighty Erudite Publishers today, hurrah! Thanks, Jools! So can pay my cheque in when I'm in town tomorrow. Along with the royalties cheque from my first novel, The Hit List, which came through today - that'll be £3.00 for the last year then. Sigh!... The riches of being a writer, eh ... I promise to spend it wisely! Ho ho.

Tonight, I'll think about my character studies for The Bones of Summer and chill watching TV. Bliss.

Today's nice things:

1. Getting the Mighty Erudite cheque
2. Sorting out the Mindfulness course and deciding against it for now
3. TV.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website

Golf and a request for The Gifting

Good grief - miracles will never cease! I've just got back my Highly Commended certificate for The Gifting in the Annual Writers' Conference novel competition - and it includes a request from Piatkus Press for the first three chapters and synopsis. They apparently really liked Simon and the plot. The two things TLC hated then ... An interesting request indeed, and I didn't even think Piatkus did fantasy - let alone gay fantasy ...

So, having sent the rehashed MS to John Jarrold yesterday, I now have to follow it up today with a request for a partial to be sent out. Heck, at the very least it looks impressive. Plus I'll need to rejig my synopsis - which I've cunningly made look smaller by means of choosing a smaller font and using one-and-a-half linespacing instead of double. Deceit: thy name is woman. I'm getting Lord H to check it through to see if it makes sense in terms of the action, and then I'll send it to John later on. All things being equal.

And yes, I very much doubt Piatkus will take it, but hey I'd be an idjit not to try.

Golf with Marian and Siegi was fun, if hot. Some of our shots were spectacular - both good and bad - but that's the way the great game falls really. I didn't think we did too badly in the end.

Plus I've ordered a replacement mobile phone - which involved doing battle with O2 who refused to believe my workplace postcode (doesn't exist on their records apparently) to the extent that I gave up trying to persuade them that I do actually know where I work and told them to deliver to Lord H's work instead. It also amused me that the man I spoke to asked me to verify what the code on my account was, and when I told him I didn't have one, agreed that I was perfectly correct in saying that. Well, why bother asking me for something which doesn't exist then?? Sigh!...

This evening, I have done the extra poetry editing on Martin Burke's "Jerusalem" for Jools at Mighty Erudite Publishers and sent that off to her, so I hope it looks okay. Plus Lord H and I are attempting to make preparations for tomorrow's Glyndebourne visit. Best get my glad rags out then and pull that stomach in!

Oh, and I have made the decision to ask Authors Online to take my first novel, The Hit List, out of publication now, as it's ancient history, nobody's buying and, frankly, I have better things on the market to offer. It'll save the holding fee for this year then.

Today's nice things:

1. Getting the request from Piatkus
2. Ordering a new mobile phone
3. Golf.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website

Backs, ballet and books

Bought cakes on my way to work today, as it’s my birthday tomorrow but I don’t work on Thursdays. So I will be Mrs Popular for a day, hurrah! The office signed a card for me, which was very sweet, and also sang “Happy Birthday” when I’d sat down at my desk, which was also very sweet – if rather disturbing. I don’t think we’ll be entering the next series of “Britain’s Got Talent” in the choir category … Though of course, if you’re reading this at all, Carol, you’re a solo star in the making!...

The car’s gone in for a service & MOT today, so Lord H and I have swapped cars for the day. Must try and remember that his Renault Laguna is built like a tank, compared to my little Fiesta (goodness, how typical boy/girl couple we sound, all of a sudden, at least in our car choices …) so I can’t swerve into the parking spaces as I can with my own. Hope poor little Rupert (yes, I do name my car – don’t you?) is okay, and safe back tonight. I do worry about him.

And I’ve been thinking lately about scaling down the attempts to break into the world of the mainstream published. I’m just starting my seventh book now, and in my seventh year of writing fiction, and there have been no bites from any of the “big boys” so perhaps it’s time to accept that it simply isn’t going to happen. The constant attempts to chip away at the very thick glass ceiling that seems to exist around me have also, particularly over the last two years, been very debilitating and have really taken away a lot of the enjoyment I get from actually writing. I absolutely loved writing my first novel, The Hit List, and though I think it’s my worst one in terms of quality (which is probably better than it being my best – I like to think I’m improving after all), I’d love to get back that enthusiasm and sense of freshness that powered me through it. And yes it’s lovely to have been recently published by Flame Books (http://www.flamebooks.com) but I think they’re finding it hard to sell decent quantities of A Dangerous Man which must therefore be tricky for them too. After my attempts to be smiley and nice to people with ridiculous and surely unjustified amounts of emotional power at the forthcoming Annual Writers’ Conference (http://www.writersconference.co.uk), we’ll have to see.

The same goes for my poetry, which I’ve been writing for about twenty years now. I get accepted so rarely in magazines these days (though I was doing better – perhaps writing better? – a couple of years ago), that I think it’s time to revisit my once a month submissions schedule. I might scale down to trying once every couple of months. Rejections are soul-destroying enough, after all. Why put myself through it more than I absolutely have to? And I certainly won’t be sending collections out anywhere again. In my experience, people have enthused and promised to come back to me, but then after a year or so they just seem to disappear. I’ll stick to the self-publishing route. It just makes me feel a lot happier. Apart from the lack of sales of course. That’s always a bummer.

All this writerly thought and potential decision-making does make me feel sad, I have to admit. It’s hard to win awards for my work and yet get shunned by 99% of the publisher world – with the honourable exception of Flame! And also not forgetting Goldenford though there of course I do have a directorial say. But, for my own peace of mind, I do have to begin to think practically. And number my sales in the tens and fifties, rather than the hundreds or thousands.

Went to my back exercise class at lunchtime – the last of the academic year, at least for me as I can’t do next week’s. I’m hoping to get away with a light regime this session as I’d like to be able to move without aching tomorrow. I’m such an old crock, you know … Though now they tell me that they might put an extra week on, so is there, even in Health, no mercy?! Darn it, eh!

And I’ve just given up on Linda Fairstein’s Death Dance. I lost interest by page 103, to be honest. I think it was all too fast-paced and exhausting, and I didn’t care enough. I also preferred the sub-plot and had no interest in the main plot about the ballet dancer. Sigh.

Talking of which, tonight, Lord H is taking me out to the ballet at Woking – we’re going to have dinner at the theatre and see “Sleeping Beauty”, so that should be great. I love the ballet. I could have been a ballet star, you know, except that I have no sense of grace or balance. Or indeed any kind of skill or talent in that area. Ah well, another vocation cruelly snatched away, ho ho …

Today’s nice things:

1. Cakes at the office
2. The back class
3. Sleeping Beauty.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.pinkchampagneandapplejuice.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk

A day of two halves ...

Very up and down today, I must say. In that order. Both me-wise and weather-wise. This morning was good. On all fronts (ho ho). Went into Guildford early and stocked up on underwear at Marks & Spencer. Where would I be without that shop? Today I've been bold and rebellious and actually bought bras that weren't white. Or black. Which are my usual bra colours. No, today I have bought, amongst other items, one pink and one light taupe bra. So I feel wild and free and liberated. Hurrah.

Also had a counselling session with Kunu. As I did things I enjoyed at the weekend, I think she's pleased with me. Though of course I know that isn't the object of the exercise. We talked about shopping and the Quakers, about friends and books. We agreed that perhaps the reason why I've been stuck on the last chapter of The Gifting is that I've been worried for days about whether I should or shouldn't go up to London to see the university gals. Then when I make the decision yesterday not to go, I felt some inner knot untie itself (heck, there's psycho drama for you) and then spent some time late last night telling Lord H what my last chapter would contain. Hell, it all came flooding out, and I had to rush to scribble the notes down. Luckily he has promised to expunge it from his memory so it won't spoil his reading if it ever comes to the page. Zip zip and the memory is gone ... it's amazing how Lord H can do that, y'know. Must be a boy thing.

Anyway, back at the counselling, Kunu is sure there's a link there somewhere. We talked about the uni gang for a while actually, and I think the trouble is that we're all performers to some extent or other. I think we spent a lot of time when we first met pretending things were different than they actually were. Sometimes that particular group friendship is like being on stage and we're all performing our own versions of a play which doesn't quite gel. Maybe over the years we've all changed so much and yet still, whenever we meet, we're back performing our usual roles, come what may. It can make it feel - at least for me - very awkward, and I get very tense and jittery about it all. And yet ... and yet ... I freely admit that, without them, I would never have managed to get through university. Or indeed my early 20s. Where did it all start to change? God knows. Maybe I should invite them all round for my birthday in June and just have a normal chat. Whatever that is. Again, God knows. I'm in two minds. As ever.

Though I have to say in my defence that it's not only me who's decided not to go to London tomorrow - someone else has dropped out to. For reasons more valid than mine. But at least it makes me feel less guilty. Which makes a bloody change then.

After counselling, I popped for tea & chat at Jane H's (hello, Jane!). This was lovely - I really enjoyed it. Sooo relaxing. And we covered so many topics. From recycling (we are both very excited about the new food recycling project in Guildford - my, how "Surrey" we both are indeed! - and I am desperate for it to come to Godalming too ..) to my mother's strange feelings about houses (they have atmospheres, you know), from the children (eat your veggies, little people, and stop pouting ...) to horse-riding, and from Roman soldiers to hearing voices (me, not her, I hasten to add, but then you knew that ...). Talking of which, Jane's mother has also apparently read A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com) and was desperately worried that I'd had some past trauma that caused me to write such stories and was wanting to know how to help. Jane was able to reassure her, saying apparently that it was only that I heard Michael's voice in my head and just wrote down what he was trying to say. Strangely, this did reassure her - perhaps finding out that I'm probably a complete nutter was not a total surprise ... Still, I was very touched she'd been worried - so thank you, Mrs R.

Also, whilst at Jane's, I ordered some more Nutrimetics (http://www.nutrimetics.co.uk) products, so won't have to worry about running out of same. Hurrah!

Back home, I come to my emails, and was instantly plunged into the slough of despond to realised that my first quarter (ie 13 Feb to end March) sales of ADM have been ... um ... 44. Which Flame Books have now understandably downgraded from good sales to promising sales. To be honest, I'm surprised that anyone should think 44 is good sales, but perhaps they all came in the first two weeks and they were hoping the sudden spurt would continue. Ah well. No, I'm sounding too philosophical now. Actually, I cried, but it did start raining at the same time so at least I'm doing my bit for the ongoing literary tool of pathetic fallacy. To be honest, I was upset as I was hoping it might be in the 80s figure, maybe even more (though that for me would be serious dreamland only 2 months or so after publication). Though, once I'd dried my tears and had a banana, I checked my records and did remember that I've sold 11 copies myself, so have dragged the figure up single-handedly to 55. Hurrah indeed. So, in royalties terms (the 11 sold author copies don't count of course for that), I've made £35.20. Which I won't get of course as they don't, understandably, pay royalties until the figure goes over £100. My, how it makes me laugh when people think I earn money from books. Slap my thighs and build me a garret.

And, if I'm trying to be sensible, I will be lucky if I reach 100 copies sold with this one. Michael is a specialised (and possibly very acquired) taste. Looking back on my past books, The Hit List has only sold 93 in the three years since I published it, and Pink Champagne and Apple Juice (my biggest success so far!) has only sold 105 since last year. So the disappointing sales of ADM are, I suppose, at least par for the course. I pride myself, however, on having round about 40 very discerning readers - to you all, thank you. I hope you might read me again. Small is beautiful indeed. Should any publisher ever be idiotic enough to take yet another chance on me, that is.

Meanwhile, the rain has stopped and the sun is trying to come out. Ye gods, I know how it feels.

And I've done about 1000 words to The Gifting. Which, under the circumstances of feeling like a demolition tool had whacked me in the stomach, is pretty good going, I think! Oh, and bizarrely I've had two emails and two phone calls from the university gang, in various sexes. And I know I should be answering them and being normal in some way but, really, I just can't summon the emotional energy for that right now. Sorry, gang. It's beyond me at the moment.

Tonight, it's the Goldenford (http://www.goldenford.co.uk) meeting, so I shall keep my head down, have no opinions, agree with everything and just take minutes. I think that's the way through it. And maybe a sherry or two when I get home. Oh yes, please God yes.

Today's nice things:
1. Counselling
2. Seeing Jane H
3. Writing.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com

Reading, writing & slumping

No church today - bliss. Or rather Lord H went as he was on server duties, so represented the household accordingly. And it was - horror of horrors - a baptism service, and I don't do those, given my deep child-hating tendencies. It's my belief that all babies/children are inherently dull and when they're born they all look like Winston Churchill but without the cigar. Though I suppose that's not entirely fair - there are some children I like, but only one or two and then only because they have real personalities and so count as small people, rather than children per se. Even so, they'll still be a hell of a lot more interesting when they hit their twenties. Thank God this is a child-free zone.

I have spent the time getting another 1000 words of "The Gifting" done, so I now have 99,006 - only 994 to go before the big 100K!! And I've finished a hell of a lot of books, including:

(a) "Wherever", a poetry anthology from Cinnamon Press (http://www.cinnamonpress.com) which has a poem by ... um ... me in it. I also enjoyed the offerings from Michael Smith, one from Claudia Jessop and those by Linda Benninghof. All good stuff, but Smith was far and away the best. Though it does gall me to say it wasn't me, of course ... Hell, I'm only human.

(b) "Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway" by Susan Jeffers - some good positive stuff in there which I shall try to remember, but it did become rather wearing towards the end. I'm not really sure I can aim for perfection, to be honest. Simple survival would be nice.

(c) "Not Dark Yet" by Nick Maes. I thought this was well-written but really didn't have much to it. Gay boy meets older straight woman. Falls in love. Woman dies. Um, haven't we heard this story before? And I do think it was really a long short story dressed up as a novel and needed rather a lot of cutting to bring it to perfection (assuming that can be achieved of course ...). But I would pick up another Maes again, if one came up.

Ooh, and the lovely Sue Haywood (http://www.teafriendsandchocolate.com/sue/) has been talking me up in her blog - so thanks hugely for that, Sue. Much appreciated. I think you're rather wonderful too. And the equally wonderful Becky (http://www.myspace.com/edie1964) has ordered a copy of "A Stranger's Table" so has doubled my weekend sales joy factor - thank you, Becky! I'll post it off to you on Monday. I've also discovered that the Eurocrime blog (http://eurocrime.blogspot.com) has included me on their new crime book listings for both "A Dangerous Man" (http://www.flamebooks.com) and my ancient first novel, "The Hit List" (gay crime comedy) so that's nice too - though, if I were being honest, I wouldn't recommend my first novel if you've not read it before. It shrieks "first novel" whenever I open it (rarely) and demands changes (lots of them) that I frankly can't be arsed to make. Still, I know in my heart that I had to write THL (Jamie) in order to get to ADM (Michael), so I do have something to thank it for.

The rest of the afternoon was spent watching the repeat of "Ugly Betty", which I do enjoy, even though it doesn't really know whether it's a comedy or a drama. I think it's starting to leap over the fence to drama now, but it should have started off there in the first place and then we'd all have known where we were.

Tonight, I will attempt to ring mother, and do some serious slumping over "Lewis" on tv. Bliss. Ooh, and a weird thing happened at lunch - we suddenly heard distant knocking and then an enormous bird flew past the window. I suspect we've been caught up in a temporal anomaly and there are now dinosaurs in the loft and pterodactyls in the garden. Ah well, we live in interesting times.

This week's haiku:

One skeleton tree
carries evening skies tonight,
sweat poured out in stars.

Today's nice things:

1. Getting caught up in "The Gifting" for a while
2. Reading
3. Nice news from Sue, Becky & Eurocrime (3 in 1, I know, but hell it is Sunday ...).

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk