Tag Archives: Snurds

Am I what I eat? I hope not.

It’s Friday, not much is going on, McMini is upstairs ‘playing’ with a cross trainer, which is somewhat worrying but hey, he’s enjoying himself, taking some exercise and it’s keeping him quiet. Actually, it’s not, he’s shouting cheery numbers down to me as I sit here in the kitchen.

“One hundred a million!” clunk clunk, “seventy zero” clunk whirr clunk, “fifty a hundred three!”

Which reminds me, I don’t think I’ve posted anything about the conversation we had in the supermarket the other day.

After our splendid trip to Alsace, McMini has developed a liking for frankfurters or “les knack” as they are known in Alsace.

Dinosaurs meet.

Dinosaurs meet.

So I tend to buy them in packs of four, one sell by quite soon, one with a date a bit further away so I can keep it in reserve for later in the week. So there we are at the cold meats section and I’m rootling about at the back looking for one with a longer date. McMini is idly looking at the packets of stuff asking random questions and I am marvelling at the way his mind works.

For example, his question about precut salami: “How big is one of these sausages, Mummy, if it’s not cut up?” you get the picture, I’m sure. anyway, there we are.

“Mummy…?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what this meat is?”

“No,” I say, because Mummy is not really looking.

“It’s pterodactyl meat.”

I grab the latest sell by date knacks I can find and pop up to see what he’s looking at. Pancetta, cubati de.

“Is it really?”

“Yes. They catch the pterodactyl and then they kill it, and cut it into tiny pieces and then WE eat it.”

“I see. That’s… very interesting. Did your father tell you that?”

“No, I made- I found out all by my own. I know all sorts of interesting things.”

“I’ll say.”

At this point I notice an elderly man who gives me a lovely smile and walks away chuckling.

Later, on the way home, he says. “Mummy, I love you and Daddy and God more than anyone else in the whole WORLD even more than my best friends!”

This is how a five year old thinks and talks, I suppose and it’s really rather wonderful.

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How to get fit without trying.

It’s the time for adventure, the kind of adventure that means I must bicycle very fast from A to B in the early morning, which is, of course, the time when I am least equipped to do so.

Last week, the bearings on McMini’s borrowed balance bike seized half way to school. We chained it to a lamp post, he jumped on the back of the bike and I caned it to school. At least I only had to maintain high speed up one of the hills, we’d already done the other one!

This morning, the McLotus was our doom. It ran out of battery. I hadn’t used it for 3 weeks – you know how it is, it’s only a mile to school and there’s not even time for the oil to warm up and it’s just…. cruel. I had to go out in it on Thursday and when I started it, it went wauh nuh very slowly. But that’s the thing with a Lotus, really it only has to manage one turn and it goes, if you can get a wheezy ‘wauh’ out of it, it’ll start. So I’d taken it on a little run and checked it started OK when I got home. It did, I relaxed.

So… this morning we were late, so late we had to go in the car but when we got in it didn’t ‘wauh nuh’ it didn’t even go ‘wauh’. It just went click.

Keenly aware that I had to go 4 miles to the hospital for physio, up and down five hills, I thought I should try and charge it. I have a solar powered trickle charger which I thought I could use, plug it in and leave it outside the garage door. But it wasn’t long enough and the car wouldn’t move – you can’t even take the hand brake off and push it. When they say it has an ‘immobiliser’ they mean it. Normally, I’d just leave the door open a crack. However, today it was all complicated by the arrival, in a field near us of some people in caravans. There is a group wanting to settle somewhere in Bury who are regularly moved on but are staying round the town. It could have been them or one of the other perfectly decent groups… but it could also have been one of the groups that comes complete with a spike in the crime rate.

There was no time to do anything more so I shut the garage door, and we had to get on the bike, McMini on the back because it would take too long if he scooted or rode his own bike and I had to do a seven minute journey in about three into a strong head wind. It was… interesting, especially when an old lady overheard me muttering “fucking wind” under my breath and thought I was swearing at her. At least I think she did because she shouted “Well Really!” and there was no other reason I can think of… so if you’re reading ma’am, I’m very, very sorry. I promise I wasn’t talking to you.

With the physio appointment looming I was keen to get it charged up. I feared I’d have to ring the man from Lotus assist and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t make it out to me in time. And then a thought struck me, ergo that McOther and I drive stupid cars and have ALWAYS driven stupid cars and that my Triumph Spitfire, and his, had permanently flat batteries and that, in short, we had a trickle charger.

Amazingly, when I looked, I discovered we have. Even more amazing it was one that you can use to start the car and it was in the first cupboard I’d opened.

Never have I averted car trouble so smoothly. And as if to bless my happy outcome, I saw a d type jag in a garage on the way to the hospital and it was so lovely that I didn’t even notice the Ferrari F430 that pulled out ahead of it until it drove away.

lovelydtype2

Yes, I’m afraid I went up the dual carriageway, round the roundabout, back down the dual carriage way the other side, round the roundabout at the other end half way along the dual carriageway and into the garage to photograph this one.
So it’s official. I’m a sad sack. I just wish I’d got the Ferrari as well.

lovelydtype

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Why Slow is Good for E-Publishing

As the length of time between releases deepens I always begin to get twitchy. As I face the fact that K’Barthan 3 will not be out for Christmas, indeed, is unlikely to be out by Christmas NEXT year, I am close to a major freak.

Reading this and the reblogged post it contained made me feel better. Hats off to Mr Vernon for sharing some heartening stats and some sage advice. I may put the brakes on and start writing other stuff alongside my big stuff. Because I’m not really a one trick pony, which is one of the things that is making it so hard.

Why Slow is Good for E-Publishing.

And on the back of that, this one, too…. Bottom-Dwelling E-book Authors RISE UP!!!.  Oh how I aspire to sales like Frank’s.

So at last I’ve got the message. And the message is: chill. Quite easy that, today, here. It’s brass monkey’s.*

Sorry everyone, but One Man: No Plan is not going to happen in a hurry. But that’s because I want it to be good. And I’m sure both of you (and the dog) would rather wait and read something that’s the best thing I can write, rather than the quickest.

Yeh, I’ve just binned an entire plotline: 50,000 words, which is what I mean about it taking a while. Phnark.

Onwards and upwards.

 

* Yeh, I know, it looks odd but that apostrophe is right because the full phrase is cold enough to freeze a brass monkey’s balls off.

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The Awesome Indies Grand Opening Party; 26 top reads at just 99 cents each, plus 5 days of partying! Oh… yeh… and you can win a kindle paperwhite.

aia_header_party2

Hello everyone, as you may have twigged from the sidebar, Few Are Chosen, K’Barthan Trilogy: Part 1 has the Awesome Indies Seal of Approval and The Wrong Stuff, K’Barthan Trilogy: Part 2 is Awesome Indies Approved but not sealed – because you can only have one Seal per series. Anyway, Awesome Indies is having a bit of a relaunch. A bit, a Hooooooge one! So for the next few days, I’m going to be featuring a series of posts from the site pointing you to lots of excellent books, competitions and, hopefully, showing you around. This is the first, the rest will come without preamble!

You’re invited to the Awesome Indies Grand Opening Party—a sale of 26 top reads at just 99 cents each, plus 5 days of fun. See the new website, meet the authors, join them for games, giveaways and giggles and be in the draw to win the latest generation Kindle.

Awesome Indies has found a way to take the risk out of buying indie. If it’s Awesome Indies Approved (AIA), a qualified publishing industry professional has determined that it’s as good as anything produced by the mainstream. Readers need no longer wonder if that book is really worth downloading. If a book is listed on the Awesome Indies, then it’s worth your time.

Click on the banner, or this link, to visit the Awesome Indies to browse the huge 99c sale and learn what you have to do to be in the draw for a Kindle Paperwhite.

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Barren Island Books

Hello everyone, the peerless A.F.E. Smith has interviewed me, M. T. McGuire on her blog. It’s a bit like that radio show with the records only with books, phnark. So, if you want to have a look see it’s here.

I hope you enjoy it.

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Hello Stranger

Yeh, I know, I’ve been conspicuously absent. There are two reasons; it’s half term which means my time is not my own and I have been setting up another blog/website for a group n of writers I’m part of. I say group, it’s more of an affiliation really but if you want to know more you can find out here.

Let me know what you think.

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Basking…

OK… a good week, a very good week.

Second, I went to two book club meetings for feedback recently. I was worried they wouldn’t like it especially as one group had been fairly forthright with a previous visiting author. I got some fantastic feedback. There was a consensus that older adults find my covers a bit YA but on the other hand, one of them, a Librarian, has said she will recommend it to all the teenage boys who come in.

What interested me, particularly, was getting a different view of the book from people who might not normally read it. Lots of food for thought. One highlight was a lady who openly admitted that she loathed this kind of thing and wouldn’t want to read the sequel but still gave it 7/10 because ‘it was very well written’. Another said that it was hard work reading Few Are Chosen because the chases were so exciting that she was literally out of breath.

And yeh, some of them even bought the book.

So am I chipper? Yes. I am.

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Awesome Indies decide The Wrong Stuff is the right stuff.

One absolutely lovely review of The Wrong Stuff, K’Barthan Trilogy: Part 2.

Frankly, I’m walking on air. OK so the editing needs to be tighter on this one. I’ve recently changed the brief I give my editor. He went through Book 1 with a fine tooth comb but we reckoned Book 2 was close enough until I finish writing all the books and he does a series-wide sweep. It is but only just, phnark. The important point is, the editing can be fixed. So here is one happy bunny! So happy that I even broke my rule about commenting on reviews – don’t usually do it any more – to say ‘thank you’.

 

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Hang onto this…

It’s been a tough few weeks. Decidedly grim in fact. My father’s health has taken a turn for the worst. It’s age and atrial affibrilation – which is treated in such a way that gives you brain damage over time so if the person doesn’t die of a stroke or heart attack caused by the atrial affribilation they die over ten or fifteen years from the treatment. It’s a bit of a worry.

So two weeks ago, I had to make a mercy dash down to Dad and Mum. We sorted out a lot of things they will need to help with this, the new level. They have decided to stay home rather than visit my brother’s for Christmas so they will be alone. This is the right decision but it’s sad for my brother and for Dad and Mum. I know they’ll miss each other. As it’s our ‘turn’ to visit McOther’s side of the house there’s very little I can do to help because they’re having an even worse time of it.

One of McOther’s brothers died. Like my Dad, he was unwell but he managed his condition with good humour, common sense and intelligence. We thought he would be around for a lot longer than this. It doesn’t quite seem possible. We got home to discover that my Dad has had another fall but that he and my Mum didn’t want to worry us while we were down at the funeral. They are being well looked after by their ‘network’, which is reassuring but a worry because I can’t see any way I will get near them until after New Year.

McMini was excused school last week and we took him with us. Doubtless some of you will raise your eyebrows at the merits of taking a 4 year old to his uncle’s funeral. The fact is, we wanted to say goodbye and if we want to do something, McMini has to tag along. Because the buck stops with me and his dad. There is no-one we can leave him with. In the event, he coped extremely well.

However, as you can imagine, everything has felt a little unreal the last few weeks. I wondered if that’s why I seem to have kept a level head. Those feelings of unreality insulating me from the truth, but now I think it’s something else.

When we got home we had some parcels to pick up from the Post Office Sorting Office which they’d tried to deliver while we were away. So while McOther and his other brother stayed home with McMini I drove up there to pick up the parcel. On the way home, I went to the supermarket to get some milk. As I bipped my bottles at the auto pay station I could hear the automated voice of the machine beside me saying.

“Unexpected item in bagging area.”

The ‘unexpected item’ turned out to be a two year old girl, ‘helping’ her Mum. It made me laugh and I realised that it’s been these small normal things; shopping, conversations with McMini, washing up the dishes, stuff like that – and, yep, even writing – which has kept me grounded among the unreality of grief. I am a mum and I must look after my son many of these things which, on my own, I might have let slide, have to be attended to. And now I realise that these small events are the solid earth upon which I stand.

It struck me that this aspect of Real Life is relevant to writing fantasy science-fiction. If you want people to get their heads round bizarre creatures and outlandish locations you have to build these things on a credible bedrock. Your readers have to have that level place. There have to be certain generalities of geography or custom – or personality in your characters – for your readers to hang onto if you want them to ‘get’ the rest of it.

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A little of what you fancy does you good.

Today McOther whisked McMini and I off to a wine fair. We met up with another couple and agreed that the boys would taste wine in the morning while we girls nipped off with the kids, we’d have lunch and then the boys would nip off with the kids while we did some tasting.

It was a beautiful sunny day, blue sky, bright sun and we headed to a local garden centre to meet Father Christmas… but to meet him we would have to trek back to another part of the site, buy Santa tickets, come back and queue.

On the other hand… outside… was an ice rink. It was all white (real ice) and the sky was all blue and it was calling…

Mmm, would 4 year old McMini take to skating? Probably not. Should I be skating with my comprehensively bollocksed knee? Absolutely not but what the heck? The timings didn’t quite fit, the next session didn’t start for 15 minutes so we would only have 15 minutes to skate but that was good right? Time to get the skates on and 15 minutes, half a session. Time enough to have fun but hopefully not to break any thing.

We decided to give it a go.

Now, me, I am the ultimate urban jungle bunny because I grew up in a school. We lived on site. Do you know how much smooth concrete and tarmac the average boarding school contains? A sod of a lot, I can tell you. If there is one thing I miss about having two functional knees it’s the ability to wear wheels instead of shoes. As a kid in the 1980s, I lived on wheels. Even when, aged 11 I was banned from all sport because of my dodgy knee, I was allowed to skate on the grounds that it was “low impact” and “the child has to be allowed to do something”. I liked taking exercise and since I wasn’t allowed to do anything else, I spent every Saturday and every evening after school with wheels attached to my feet, cruising the concrete cloisters and smooth bricked quads… and hiding when the bell went and the big, scary boys changed classes for lessons.

My Mum decided to turn a blind eye to my preference for wheels over shoes So, I was a pretty dab hand at it. Even after I reached the point where my knee was utterly shot, when I couldn’t physically run, I could rollerblade, and did, although the tricks were way beyond me by that time. First rule of aggressive skating; don’t do anything on skates on that you couldn’t try out with them off first. So that, for me, was everything…. except going forwards, and backwards, and jumping over the odd small obstacle… but nothing ritzy. Eventually that got too much and about 10 years ago, I had to hang up my skates. I really, really miss it but it is just not possible to do it with only one proper leg and until they invent some kind of skater’s zimmer frame (phnark) that’s the way it’ll stay.

Back to today… there it was… ice, white ice, blue sky. Mmm. Not as easy as wheels but oh so tempting. So we gave in, we hired the skates and stood on the rubber bit at the side with severe misgivings and butterflies wondering who would break which limb first. Finally, we got on and the four of us made one disastrous circuit with two petrified children; McMini almost in tears and me realising that my left leg was really, really not working, at all and that it probably wasn’t safe for me to do this unless I could find some way of skating with a walking stick.

The answer was a thing that looked like a banana with handles. Seats two, slides beautifully and gives just enough support for the dodgy kneed lady. We had a gas! We slalomed in and out of the other skaters at speed – controlled, of course – and on the corners I could safely throw the banana sideways, shouting,

“Feel the drift!” while the kids screamed with glee and shouted.

“We are going faster than anyone else!”

As the banana went sideways I went straight… leaning on the handle. Jeez, I could actually do crossovers! I was safe and in control. Indeed, leaning on the handle, I could skate pretty much normally, with the banana taking some of the weight, the knee held up. And the kids shouted,

“Faster! Faster!” and well… it was churlish not to oblige.

Eventually the pain hit the warning threshold and I knew the time had come to quit while I was ahead. We’d had our 15 minutes, anyway, and we didn’t want to be late for lunch. So we parked the banana and skipped off the ice, two cheerful rosy-cheeked women with two (equally rosy-cheeked) and utterly gleeful bug-eyed kids. Sure, I could be walking with a stick for the rest of the week but… bloody hell that felt good.

So the point of this story is this: every now and again we all need to throw caution to the wind do something a little bit out there. I confess I thought I did, but clearly, not enough. Many of us live lives which are hectic or busy and we can’t vary the mix that often. But I have always believed that if an opportunity crops up, everyone should. And I suppose, in my case, the exuberant glee I’ve been feeling all day bears it out! Because that ten minutes on the ice, doing something I’ll be paying for all week, something I really shouldn’t have been doing but that I miss, left me feeling absolutely fantastic. It was a tonic. So there we are. A little of what you fancy does you good. Especially if it’s naughty and you’re not meant to.

Even better, right now, I’m buzzing with ideas. And I know why K’Barthan 3 isn’t clicking. And I might even be able to fix it. Funny how sometimes, the the best way to find a solution to a problem is to stop thinking about it; and the best way of writing is not to. I suppose, if you’re endlessly dragging ideas out of your brain it’s only sensible to do something off piste now and again; to put things in.

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