Tuesday, 23 August 2011

Which Comes First...

...the dress or the hat?

It's been a busy last couple of weeks, hence the delay in blog posts.  Although I have to say the pressure hasn't at all been writing related; in fact, if anything, it's been familial!

Mainly because I've had my youngest son's wedding to get ready for.  And with time running out, as the Mother of the Groom I've had the all important 'Mother of the Groom' outfit to sort out - a task that should've been so easy, especially for a seasoned clothes shopper like myself. 

Naturally, my initial assumption was to start with the dress.  And being a young mother (very much at heart and reasonably chronologically) it stood to reason I wasn't about to go for anything too stuffy.  So off to the shops I went and I'm pleased to say it wasn't long before it was mission accomplished - oh yes, I soon found myself uttering those six little words 'I just have to have it!' 

Of course, in my excitement it didn't even cross my mind that not only is now the back end of the wedding season, but a shortage of Milliners in the area might make finding a suitably, matching hat a tad difficult.  Or, more to the point, that without the aforementioned, suitably, matching hat, a simple, cream, floaty, little number just might look like I was competing with the Bride... 

Still, it wasn't as if I was going to give up at the first hurdle, was it?  But wouldn't you know it, thanks to sod's law I came across glorious hats in red, blue, green, purple, pink and every other colour of the spectrum, just not cream.  To the point that I did begin to wonder if I should just put my beloved dress to one side and start again from scratch? 

Of course, my other half wasn't having any of it, which I supposed was fair enough considering the dress had, after all, cost him a small fortune.  And having never been one to shy away from a challenge to begin with anyway, I decided the best way forward was to, instead, pick up the phone. 

Not that my son seemed to mind the lack of foresight on my part, thank goodness.  And as I garbled on about NOT feeling jealous of his Fiance and NOT feeling envious of their relationship, much to my relief, it's fair to say if anything, he seemed somewhat amused.  Of course, I didn't tell him about the envy I DO have with regards to her rather petite figure and generous height - what with me being a bit vertically challenged and well, not as slim, shall we say...  Rather, I appreciated his understanding on the matter and then headed back out to the shops to seek out that all important headgear... 

And after a lot of hard work and pavement pounding, I can now report that I did eventually succeed.  Although for anyone else due to attend a wedding, I suggest you really do begin with the hat.

Sunday, 7 August 2011

A first time for everything...

This week has been a week of firsts...

Starting with my first magazine review.  And I can't tell you how nervous I felt when I saw Mike Cobley's name in my inbox, at last, letting me know that Going Underground was being featured. In fact, it took me a moment or two to even dare open his message, such was my apprehension - all the while wondering if he liked it... if he didn't like it... OMG what if he didn't...?

Yes, I have to admit this was one of those occasions where I was leaning towards the negative - writers anxiety and all that jazz.

Thankfully, however, I'm pleased to report that once I did finally click 'open'  my fears turned out to be unfounded.  And the relief I felt when I saw the words: "loved the novel", "great read" and "one of those 'can't put down jobs'" in the same paragraph, well it was somewhat immeasureable. 

Phew!  I could relax...


...even if it was only for a day or two.

After all, next came the Book Signing to contend with - something else in the world of writing I'd never had the pleasure of experiencing before. 

Of course, there was the question of what to wear to such an event and deciding it might be an idea to present myself as being as colourful as my book (and by that, I'm not just referring to its cover), I opted for an orange  and pink number. 



And ignoring the fact that I might actually look like I'd just been tango-ed, I instead began to focus on the panic rising in my belly... 

"What if no-one turns up?  What if come the end of it, I'm left with just as many books as when I started?" I asked.  Again, all thanks to writers' anxiety, of course. 

Although as I stood there donning my brightest of smiles to match my brightest of outfits, thankfully my fears were, once again, proved wrong...

Oh yes, much to my amazement I was quickly dedicating and signing away as the books seemed to fly off the pile.  And a couple of hours later, I was suddenly left with all but one. 

In fact, the last copy of Going Underground looked quite pitiful sat there all on its own, as it was... 

Unlike me, I have to say, who didn't just feel a tad elated by the event's apparent success. By this time I was also in desperate need of a cup of coffee and a quick dash to the loo - although not necessarily in that order.