Tag Archives: K’Barthan Series

Metal detecting, and its relation to my hopes as an #indie #writer

This week, I’m unsure how to go about my blog post. TI have several things to say so bear with me as I try to work out a way to jemmy them all in at once.

Ever in pursuit of the elusive hammered coin or interesting… thing, I went out metal detecting yesterday. I learned three things.

  • First that no matter how many smashing Saxon artifacts other people are digging up you have to walk over one to find it.
  • Second, I learned that my waterproofs are not waterproof any more. This lesson delivered as I was the wrong end of a field, about half a mile from the car, in a deluge. More waterproofs required, I think. The manner of my learning this rather sums up my day.
  • Third, on returning home, after steeping in a hot bath, I learned that basically, I’m doing setting the detector up right, choosing sensible places to detect and doing the right thing. I am finding tiny things as well as big things, I am finding things made out of metals and alloys that mirror the good stuff but unfortunately, they are bits of tractor and modern stuff rather than interesting finds. I’m finding miniscule things the size of a quartered silver coin, but they’re tiny pieces of metal. All are things which, in happier circumstances, could be good stuff. My point is that, for the most part, I’m doing it right, it’s just that the artifact gods are not smiling as benignly upon me as sometimes.

In a sop to my efforts, they (the Small Gods of Lost Things) did throw me this fantastic fossil of half a sea urchin. It holds a level of detail I’ve not seen outside the real thing so my day wasn’t wasted.

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That white discolouration on the flat side means it broke in half several million years ago.

Onwards and upwards. There’s another dig next week.

Which kind of brings me onto the second thing. As you know, I’ve been a bit worried about my book sales recently. This is because I’ve been doing that fatal thing, comparing myself to other people. Really I should know better.

In order to feel some semblance of control, and in pursuit of social media savviness, I bought and read two Rayne Hall books: Twitter for Authors, and Why Does My Book Not Sell? 20 Simple Fixes (Writer’s Craft).

OK, if I can go off at a bit of a tangent here… I cannot recommend these books highly enough. I’ve always wondered how to interact with people on Twitter, Rayne Hall gives the answer. If the worst comes to the worst just go to her feed, eavesdrop on some conversations and have a chat. Her advice has definitely worked really well for me. Even in a week I’m having conversations and enjoying Twitter the way I wanted to but hadn’t. She also has what I consider to be an excellent attitude to social media, ie that it is social and that the more social and less of a book seller you are, the more likely you are to achieve book sales. This advice has been borne out by my own experience.

Likewise, while I’d got more of my book production performance in line with Rayne Hall’s there are still plenty of things in Why Does My Book Not Sell? 20 Simple Fixes (Writer’s Craft) that I can apply to my own books.

However, what I have learned from these two books, above all, is that for the most part, and barring a few tweaks, I’m doing the right thing.

My book sales are not lighting up the sky, though. Perhaps, like my efforts at metal detecting, the small percentage of fairy dust required is just absent from that part of my life at present. Perhaps. But if I’ve learned anything from metal detecting, it’s that perseverance pays off. If you keep believing and keep digging you will find interesting things. The law of averages demands it. You can’t find nothing but crap. Sure a big part of your detector finds may be but they can’t all be. And they aren’t. Not even for me.

Which begs a question.

Am I simply lacking fairy dust. Or are my book sales better than I think?

Comparatively I mean.

You see, it may be that for someone who has written a book that is, as a friend who works in magazine publishing put it, “Absolutely wonderful, but a very hard sell. I wouldn’t touch it with a barge pole if it was submitted to me,” I’m actually doing better than I think.

Usually, a handful of people download my free book each day. Since it went free, in February, I’ve seen a sudden increase in sales of the second book after which, in June and July, I definitely saw an increase in sales of books 3 and 4. From selling a couple of books a month if I’m lucky and shifting a couple of my, admittedly, dodgy free shorts a month, there are now only a couple of days each month when nobody downloads anything.

Don’t get too excited. I’m not ready to make one of those gushing, “I can’t believe that my book is number one on Amazon!” posts on Kindleboards. I’m not even ready to make one of those “my sales have plummeted! I’m only selling 500 books a month” posts either. Mwah hahahargh! I dream of selling 500 books a month.

However, it’s all relative. This time last year I’d failed to sell a single book in three months straight. This year, to my eternal delight, even Kobo users are buying them. The Amazon stats are showing international sales. For the first time, people in France, Italy, Canada and Australia are buying them. For the first time since 2010 I am achieving monthly book sales that go into double figures.

The free book, Few Are Chosen, K’Barthan Series: Part 1 is even being downloaded from Google books – although I’m not sure what’s happening there because nobody has bought the others, I’m not even sure if Google is selling them or just pointing people to the vendors links on my website, but it’s a start.

And it brings me back to a piece of advice that has probably kept me sane in periods of recovery from my various knee injuries. Nevertheless, despite the fact I’ve been happily doling it out left right and centre this month it’s one I’d forgotten to apply to myself until now. It’s this:

Forget about how far you have to go, instead see how far you’ve come. Trust me. The answer to that question is always going to be, a lot further than you think. Which is kind of where I am about now.

So, am I earning much? No. The people around me, the authors I chat to from day to day, are earning far more.

Am I successful? No. My literary mates are, for the most part, several orders of magnitude more successful then me.

Am I doing better than last year? You bet your arse I am!

See how it works?

Yes, sure, as flat figures, my book sales are risible. But as a percentage increase on previous efforts they are flying. It’s all a question of how you view it. Sure, in the order of publishing species I’m so low on the scale that I’m aspiring to be a molecule – BUT, and here’s the rub, things might be different next year.

Onwards and upwards.

Coming next week… news of my latest story, out November 1st.

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Secrets of the K’Barthan Series unlocked.

One of the great things about being an author is that you get to be a bit… hmm…. let’s call it, ‘eccentric’. It is one of the parts of the job I truly delight in – and probably the bit I am best at. Certainly I’m far better at being a bit weird than I am at writing books, but I digress. One of the things I get asked sometimes, apart from, ‘Are you mad?’ is where I get the names from.

Well, clearly we authors can make some of them up, like The Pan of Hamgee, while others are normal, like Ruth or Lucy or a bit comedically untrendy, names normally associated with the elderly, for example, like Gladys and Ada. Then again, judging by the amount of Masies, Ediths, Dots and Daisey’s under ten there are now, and the rate the real Gladys and Adas are dying off, there will probably be lots of toddlers and babies named Gladys and Ada before long. Christened by people too young to remember that no-one under 70 was called Gladys or Ada for many years.

In other instances, if you’re looking to name characters you can turn to the world around us… things like this:

philip softone2

Yes, Philip Softone got his name from some lightbulbs. Ever since I saw the first advert for these in about 1989 I have been giggling quietly to myself about who Philip Softone is and wondering what he is like.

Meanwhile his assistant…

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I know, I know… I really should grow up. 😉

There must be a way I can work Clancy Docwra in there somewhere – just because it’s such a jolly silly name (sorry Clancy, if you’re reading this). Indeed, I reckon I may have to write some wild west punk specifically for him, because with a name like Clancy, he can only be a sheriff or a sharp shooter right… or do you think he might be a card shark? Hmm not sure.

Another rich source is place names. When I’m driving along and I see signposts to places like Leighton Bromswold and Carlton Scrope I immediately start wondering who they are, what they do and what they’re like. It’s easy to pick and choose, too. You can go for something off a random signpost sighting, like Carlton Scrope, or you can choose something more simple like Alton, Ashington, Norton, Dacre, Derby or even Troon. You can put them together to make first names and surnames: Alton Troon, Norton Dacre etc. If you want to get seriously wacky you can go off piste and try another country.

So if you’re about to name your main character Kyle, hold up! Why not see if there’s an interestingly named town near you?

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What makes a good bad guy?

Recently, as my thoughts turn to planning a new book, I’ve been wondering what makes a good baddie? If you see what I mean.

In my current w.i.p. the baddie is a politician, and I suspect, he will be not so much evil as morally bankrupt. To make things right, our hero will have to manipulate things so that the politician, in getting what he wants, will unwittingly deliver justice for the goodies of the book. In so far as there are any. A bit more like real life then, even if it’s set in space.

But I do want my villain to be bad. And while you can fiddle with the circumstances and the dynamics; on their own, they don’t always make the actual being evil. So I’m trying to work out if I want my latest bad guy to be greedy and selfish and incidentally evil or whether I want to go for a full on supervillian: a being who is intelligent, pointy-brained, and who plans (and revels in) his malevolence. The first is more real, the second an absolute gas to write and great fun to hate.

To get my head around concepts and ideas of ‘evil’ versus ‘bad’ or just ‘greedy’ I have turned to current affairs. I find current affairs intensely distressing if I look them directly in the face. Even so, they seem to be even worse than usual right now. There’s nothing like a bit of economic trouble to bring out the hatred in all of us it seems.

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Here we are in a modern and supposedly enlightened world and the various peoples of The Book are still trying to kill one another with gusto – and anything else that comes to hand.

We have an organisation of people pretending to be Muslims who believe half the population is shameful and valueless. It’s better to be a goat than a woman under the Taliban. After all, even their livestock can roam freely to find food. But if the male folk in a woman’s family die, the honourable thing for her to do is stay at home and starve to death rather than go out into the world unchaperoned to buy supplies. Yes that’s how much a woman is worth to them. Nothing. Because having kids and periods makes us unclean – Lord above if ever there was a bit of biblical health and safety advice that went big time wrong it’s that bit – oh and we don’t have a cock to think with, which makes us bad. And heaven help us, the Taliban seem quite moderate compared to ISIL, the Islamic State.

And then you get Israel which has had it’s foot on Palestine’s neck for years and just. Won’t. Lift. Off.  I wouldn’t pretend to be able to fathom Middle Eastern politics, there is no knowing Who Started It because the fighting there began at the dawn of time. I’ve read enough of the The Book – Old Testament/Torah/Koran – to appreciate that. But historically, countries like Britain, America and Russia have exacerbated the problems in an already volatile area for their own gain; fanning the flames of enmity, promising everyone what they wanted and delivering it to no-one: for years. And in return we get ISIL, the Islamic State. I guess it kind of serves us right.

Then… enter the ‘Christian Right’ and holy smoke, there’s an oxymoron if ever there was one – who vilify women and single mothers, not to mention the poor. They justify the hatred-filled crap they spew as the word of God when all it’s about is power and more money for them. I thought god was supposed to be a loving father – you know, ‘love they neighbour as thyself’ and all that – not a psychopathic, vengeful shit-head. Maybe I’m wrong. It would be funny if there wasn’t an actual, realistic chance of these people gaining power in America, a country which looks, from the outside, as if the political choice is between rabidly conservative and a few steps to the right of Atilla the Hun.

And when I turn on the news and see the latest venom-filled cleric screaming spittle-flecked hatred in the name of whichever version of God they purport to believe in, I confess I feel contempt. Contempt for someone who uses their intelligence, or presence, or social standing to persuade others to maltreat people in the name of a supposedly loving god. And contempt for the brainwashed sheep who follow them.

Which is where it all starts, of course.

The minute we stop seeing extremists as human beings, we become like them. Because that’s what they’re doing to us. That’s how they can justify massacring whole towns, that’s how they can justify institutional peadophelia – selling 12 year old girls into sexual slavery because they dare to get an education: learn to read, learn to think, is peadophelia in my book. No wonder extremism is so attractive to every tinpot fuckwit with a Kalishnikov. What better excuse for violence, bullying and sexual depravity than ‘god told me to do it’? Even if it’s patently, bollocks. I really feel for the world’s quiet, moderate people of faith, who have to put up with people thinking that nutters like the Islamic State and the Christian ‘Right’ represent religion.

What the angry rationalists fail to realise is that using religion to manipulate people is a completely different from having an actual faith. I suppose that’s what a lot of the K’Barthan Series is about: that just because the extremists are in power, it doesn’t mean everyone is one. Even so, it seems that nothing is more guaranteed to make you despise and kill your neighbour than a jolly good argument as to whose philosophy you should employ to go about loving him. Weird isn’t it?

You know, I wanted to make my villain female in this next book – think Servalan out of Blake’s 7 – but, in light of the state of world affairs, I really don’t think I can. There’s enough hatred directed at us women without my making one of us a love-to-hate baddie. The saddest thing is that every time I make stuff up, on the grounds that it’s chillingly evil, I find someone, somewhere, is already doing it.

Servalan: Scary baddie from Blake’s 7 Image: from http://jasonnahrung.wordpress.com

Stepping off the soap box and dragging this back to the point, apart from depressing me profoundly what does the state of world affairs have to do with writing credible bad guys?

In a nutshell, because what current affairs show us is that contempt is the key. A good look at history is an excellent place to start if you want to analyse the subtleties of evil. All you need to do then is give your baddie a healthy dose of idealism at the expense of any practical consideration whatsoever. He doesn’t have to be all-other-beings-are-inferior-my-pawns-to-be-used-and-discarded, supervillain bad. All he has to do is believe, passionately that the ends justifies the means and forget that the populations of the nations he is playing with are actual real humans. There are many faces of evil and often one begets another. So you can have some seriously bad karma starting off with deeds done with good intent.

Hmm… for all his supercilious air I think I prefer the supervillain like Lord Vernon. At least he’s honest.

So, what are your thoughts folks? Who’s the baddest of the bad? Love-to-hate superbaddie or vainglorious politician. More to the point, which one do you most like to see in books?

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Blogging Off Piste and Visiting the Real World.

Yes, another kindly soul has let me loose on his blog. If you don’t follow the Story Reading Ape then you really should. He carries news, views and information for indie authors on his blog (as well as bananas). Today, I’ve bent his readers’ ears about my books, which I have a rather egocentric tendency to do, given the chance. A lot.

As usual the rest of the blog is a lot more interesting than my bit so I can recommend checking it out. ‘My’ bit is here.

Also, a quick reminder to anyone in the Diss, Norfolk area on Saturday that the kind souls at Diss Publishing Bookshop will be letting me lurk on their premises between 11.00 and 1.30 on Saturday – this Saturday that ever was – and devaluing my books by scribbling in them. I’m looking forward to it but also a little bit nervous. If they’ve been kind enough to put their faith in me I am keen to repay it by selling some books.  Anyway, for more about the signing, click here.

 

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Are you talking to me pal?

Is staring at something you’re trying to find for ages, without seeing it, a super power? I don’t know but it’s probably the closest I’ll get.

Does he have a better short-term memory than I do? Very probably.

You can read some wittering about that and other ideas in this week’s bit of light fluff. It’s an interview  over at Katherine’s Corner. Yes, I’ve been bending someone’s ear again. This one is part of an ongoing series of author interviews comprising two sets of questions; one frivolous and one sensible. The author being interviewed has to answer both, although in my case, there’s not really much difference between the two. You can find some witty and interesting answers from other authors on the blog here and you can read my attempts at the end of the links below.

Sensible

Frivilous

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Is your life a French farce too?

For some years now, I’ve been convinced that my life is extra specially eccentric. This could be down to my personality, or it could be a matter of perception but things didn’t start too well this week, because I left my phone in Scotland. Then… well… let me share my Wednesday afternoon with you.

Wednesday is market day in Bury. It’s also one of my three days a week at the gym. This Wednesday, I also went for coffee with some of the other mums after the school run. After trogging round town to various stores – McMini’s party is coming up so I was buying party bag stuffing as well as the usual stuff I got home, hid the plastic bag full of McMini party kit, had a quick shower, did a bit of writing, ate my lunch and decided to leave for school pick up half an hour early so I could drop into Waterstone’s and speak to the YA manager about my new book releases.

That’s when I realised I didn’t have my wallet.

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Oh.

It wasn’t in my bag either.

No worries, I remembered I’d put it in with the shopping because there have been purse thefts recently and I usually keep it in a pocket on the outside of my bag, well, rucksack (I have a small child, I am doomed to carry a rucksack so I can jemmy in all the mountains of shit required for managing a small child through the trials and tribulations of every day existence; snacks, plasters, wipes, sting stick, calpol sachets etc). I checked all the bags I’d had my shopping in, including – a real high point – the one in the wheelie bin.

Nothing – which was, kind of, a relief in the case of the bag in the wheelie bin because I’d emptied Harrison’s litter box into it – but all the same.

Oh.

So I had a think. The last place I’d gone was the gym. I rang.

No wallet.

Oh.

So there was only one thing for it. I must have dropped it. I consulted my watch. Half past two. OK, where was the cat? Out. Right so I needed to get him in first. No wait, I didn’t. First I needed to check in the garage round my bike. I got the electric bipper to open the door and went out into the street, closing the garden gate behind me.

No wallet.

Oh.

Our garden is walled all around and the gate is about 7ft. As I closed the garage I realised I’d locked myself out of the garden. I’d have to climb in. Except that I don’t have as many knee ligaments as other people and I was a bit worried about the 7ft drop from the top of the wall to the ground below. After an energetic work out at the gym the knees didn’t feel up to it: neither did the rest of me.

Ah. Hang on. The garage has two windows at the back. Both festooned with cobwebs and probably cemented shut with stour but they are there, nonetheless. So I went back in and I tried to open the less cobweb covered of the two. It wouldn’t budge.

Bollocks.

OK, let’s call that Plan B. Back to over the wall. I cast around and found a small plastic garden toy thing which McMini loved as a toddler. I put it by the fence and climbed up.

No. I decided. Not a wise move to go over there.

I put it in front of the gate.

No. I wasn’t going over there either.

I tried using a log against the window frame and hitting it with another log. It wouldn’t budge. It must be locked.

Ping! An idea dawned. I tried the other window. It was unlocked and it opened. Flaming typical. Never mind. I was in. I broke my way through the cobwebs and dropped into the garden below with the agility and grace of a heffalump tripping over a rock. Looking at my arms I realised my journey through the window had transformed me into the cobweb yeti. Another shower required tonight then to wash them out of my hair. I tried to brush them off but they clung to me determinedly.

Ho hum. Never mind. I was in the garden now, even if I looked as if I’d been down a derelict coal mine. I got the keys, opened the gate and then put the primary coloured child toy away again. I double checked that there was no sign of my wallet on or around my bike.

There wasn’t.

Balls.

That meant I must retrace my steps to the market to see if I’d dropped it. That meant I must find the cat and put him indoors and that meant I didn’t have much time. I couldn’t leave him. He’s only 4 months old and the other feline visitor to our property, Big Vern as we now call him, tends to drop by in the afternoons. Big Vern is a real Ray Winstone of a cat. More of a tabby panther. I don’t want him and Harrison to fight if I’m not there to split them up.

After chasing the very over excited and skippity kitten round the garden for 10 minutes – this is a brilliant game Mummmy! I want to play it forever – I realised I wasn’t going to catch him. However, another five minutes bouncing a ping pong ball on the patio and he was there, ready to play. I threw it into the house and when he ran in after it, slammed the door and locked it. Time was running out. It was nearly 3 o’clock, and that’s when I have to leave to get McMini. I got my bike and cycled up to the gym. I checked where I lock the bike up and asked in a cafe nearby.

Nothing.

For fuck’s sake!

I cycled up the hill and as I got towards town remembered that the party shop was a little further from the market. That was the last store I visited so I went there. They didn’t have my wallet and it wasn’t anywhere near there. But going there did jog my memory. I hadn’t checked all the bags, because I’d forgotten to look in the hidden one from the party shop, which probably contained my wallet, but now it was too late to go home and check. So I went along to the school, picked up my boy and in the end he went to the park with a friend and her Mum. I cycled home and, as predicted, I found my wallet in the hidden bag.

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So as you can see, I bring a lot of shit on my own head (not to mention stour, cobwebs and potential for injury in this instance). Never let it be said that I don’t make life interesting for myself. I put the washing out, while I was there and then went back to the park to pick up my boy. Naturally I didn’t make it to Waterstone’s.

So if anyone else out there has a the kind of short term memory that would make a goldfish laugh, this is just to let you know that you aren’t alone. And hey… it makes life interesting and I am proof positive that you can successfully organise the odd thing, in spite of yourself. Er hem.

Finally, moving on to more important stuff Few Are Chosen, K’Barthan Trilogy: Part 1 – and also myself – get a shout out from Island Editions’ Reading Recommendations spot, or at least, got, yesterday. So here it is, please feel free to have a look, there are some fine books recommended on the site and if you like it, please feel free to share. There are a lot of good folks trying to help us indies and sharing, liking and generally appreciating their efforts is the way we can thank them. It also helps bring them more traffic, better search engine rankings, higher visibility on facebook etc.

So if you want to pop over to look, like and share the love you can find it here.

There’s an M T McGuire book signing coming up, too. Yes, despite having the organisational skills of a butterfly with indecision I have managed to arrange something. Try not to be too amazed, even if I am. The lovely people at Diss Publishing Bookshop, in Diss, in Norfolk, will be hosting a signing on Saturday 30th August, between 11 and 13.30. I’m very excited about that. More details can be found here.

 

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Help! Help! It’s the Chaos Fairies… and some other stuff…

First up, I’d like to thank the host of brave souls who have started following this blog recently. I really appreciate it and I apologise that I haven’t been able to pop over and visit everyone back. The spirit is willing but, as those of you who have been reading this blog regularly for a while will know, my life is a bit chaotic.

However, while I freely admit that my general organisational life plan seems to be reactive – as in lurching from one oh-shit-did-I-forget-to-do-that crisis to another – I feel that today there were mitigating circumstances. The Chaos Fairies were with me. I was very organised this morning, I dropped off McMini and put a wash on nice and early. The first inkling that the Chaos Fairies had turned up was when, after about an hour I went back to see if the washing was done and discovered the machine had switched itself off.

Dan dan daaaaaah. It was an old machine and I kind of thought this.

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Yeeeeeeek! (Yeh yeh. Eyebomb, therefore eye am.

Luckily it was only the plug. I fixed it. No more harm done than an hour of sunlight and drying time dropped.

A few moments later I returned to my computer to start on my to do list. I managed a couple of things. Booyacka! Then, while my anti-virus programme updated itself I planned the flyers and bookmarks I was going to make.

Or not.

When I tried to open my dtp programme I discovered that my anti-virus had taken the unilateral decision to quarantine the executable file. I couldn’t get it out so I had to reinstall. Then it decided that the latest update of flash was also malware. Then I switched it off file checking and left it to look at e-mails and the internet stuff. I should probably look into that one sometime. In the meantime I’ve managed one book mark and trust me, it was a major achievement.

So I trundled off to collect McMini having pretty much blasted my only day to work this week into nothing. The handlebars had come loose on my bike and were wobbling about. Luckily it was just a case of them moving up or down rather than turning while the wheel stayed pointing straight on but it was… odd.

On the up side. I found the shoes I wanted to wear – which I haven’t been able to find all week – stacked neatly among McOther’s. What the hell was I doing when I put those away? Perhaps the Chaos Fairies felt a little bit guilty and pointed me in the right direction. Or maybe not.

However, it’s probably going some when you come close to forgetting about the launch of your own book. Which is on Saturday by the way. Gulp. Yep, as usual my effort to effect a smooth, ritzy launch is a complete shambles. I’ll be clicking publish on Amazon slightly early, for the ebook, for the simple reason that I will only have patchy access to the internet from Friday morning onwards and it would be a pity if it didn’t appear on the day it was supposed to. If you want to make sure you get your copy it is available to pre-order in all formats pretty much everywhere except in the case of the ebook on Amazon. Phnark.

Never mind. It’s not all shambolic. I do have a signing coming up in Diss, just down the road in Norfolk. Details coming soon.

Right then. For now, here’s a list of the places where you can get hold of an advance copy of Looking For Trouble.

The cover of Looking For Trouble

The cover of Looking For Trouble

To preorder multiple formats – as they become available – click on the links.

In ebook format…
Kobo
Smashwords
iBooks
Barnes & Noble (nook)

In print:

The Book Depository.
Amazon.co.uk
Amazon US.
From your local Amazon, if you live outside those two.
Waterstone’s

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Words With A Fellow Petrolhead

I have been very tardy with this one but my good friend, fellow member of the Gumbee Fantasy Authors’ Guild and also, fellow Petrolhead, Will Macmillan Jones has been kind enough to let me witter on about my books, my theories on economic stability and all sorts of other cobblers, on his blog.

So Will, a belated thank you, and everyone, Will does write a cracker of a blog post so pop over to say hello and do have a look around his blog. You can find the article here.

And if anyone’s come here from there the books page I mentioned, and cleverly forgot to give you the link for is here.

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Oh no, the M word! Yes. Marketing.

I’ve travelled to another blog to write today’s post… So if you want to discover the connection between inter-galactic church travel and marketing books, I’m afraid you’ll have to click again and visit my excellent friend Seumas Gallacher, here. In fact, please do.

Seumas is a bit of a success story having sold 70,000 copies of his books – which is about 69,900 more than I have so obviously, I’m in awe. Since I’m not usually invited anywhere – except back to apologise – I’m also feeling pretty honoured to be guesting on his blog.

Seumas writes a very good blog, btw. He talks an awful lot of sense with a Scottish accent – he’s from Govern – think Billy Connolly and you have it about right. I can thoroughly recommend his blog and one of his books – I haven’t read the others yet. So yeh, do pop over there. I can recommend it.

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Entrails, Omens, Eggciting News and Eggstraordinary Matters…

Well, OK, not entrails. Moving on.

Big is the order of the day, it seems. Our garden has been surprisingly free of random cats this week, not because of Harrison, who hasn’t had his shots and isn’t allowed out yet. Nope, not Harrison but because of a new random cat arrival.

Big Merv, as I am calling him is a monster of about the size and build I’d expect from the Beast of Bolsover. A true juggernaught of a cat, he is a little lardy but mostly he is just built like a brick shit house. He is a dark brown tabby with a white tummy which he likes to show me at every available opportunity. He is clearly very loved by someone somewhere because he’s a sweetie. He’s also confident, placid and yeh. Huge.

Meanwhile this morning, I encountered another enormity. With the preparation of a birthday cake in the offing I went to the market to buy some extra eggs.  Naturally, I went for extra large, in which there was this.

IMG_1541

Yes. That’s a chicken egg on the right, the one with the terrible wart. And the one on the left? Well, believe it or not that’s a chicken egg too. All I can say is, I sure wouldn’t want to meet that chicken – and if she’s normal chicken sized then all I can say is, boy, she must have been screaming for an epidural. I bet she was in a bit of a scramble, eggcetera, eggcetera. [no more eggscorable egg jokes: ed]

So here’s hoping that all this bigness of eggs and cats is an omen for big success for the K’Barthan Trilogy… says she, jemmying in a buy-my-book reference with a large crowbar. Ooooof, kadang. Ouch, my toe.

CoverOneManNoPlan

Feel free to buy my books, if you want to and if you already have, thank you. And if you enjoyed them, feel free to tell your friends and/or leave a review in as many places as you like. And thank you to those of you who did.

In the meantime, Book 3 of the K’Barthan Trilogy is out today. I’m afraid it isn’t the last one. There are four books in it. Yes, I count like Baldrick. But there you go. If you’d like to purchase it, you can do so in these places:

In e-book format from…

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Your Local Amazon – wherever you are.
Kobo
Smashwords
iBooks – coming… eventually
Barnes & Noble (nook)

In Paperback format from…

Book Depository
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Your Local Amazon – wherever you are
Waterstone’s

 

One Man: No Plan M T McGuire

The back cover of One Man: No Plan by M T McGuire

 

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