Wednesday, 23 June 2021
It's a strange feeling. Looking at my daughter and realising she is, in fact, a fully-grown adult about to leave home. My daughter spent her 18th birthday with the obligatory lockdown 'party' - five friends shivering in the garden sitting two metres apart sipping Passionfruit Martinis. Not quite the mad celebration she imagined. But the grace and stoicism with which she accepted it made me proud.
It seems only ten minutes ago that she was a baby. My husband and I brought her home from hospital, carfully wrapped up against the cold. We nicknamed her 'Beanie' because she was like a little bean, all curled up. We deposited her in the middle of the sofa surrounded by pillows and looked down at her sleeping face. Both of us were thinking the same thing: "Now what?"
As the years unfolded we experienced the joy of her first words, her first steps, her first bike ride. We taught her how to read, brush her teeth, tie her own shoelaces. And we learned things too: her elbows dislocated freakishly easily and headlice are buggers to get rid of.
Teenagers think they're immortal, don't they?!
She taught me and her dad things too. She's funny. She's smart. She's fundamentally a fair and decent person. She and her fellow youths are determined to make a better world. They fiercely believe in equality and opportunity for all. And they're willing to demand change if things aren't right. My daughter, like many of the younger generation, is a firm believer that governments have to do more to halt global warming and she often went on marches and signed petitions. I know protests arent limited to young folk but honestly, to see her and her compatriots take to the streets made me hopeful that the world is in good hands.
Like every other A-level student in the UK, she completed her teacher-led assessments under the cloud of lockdown. Now we have to wait to see if she has the grades she needs to go to Manchester University, the place she's set her heart on. Wherever she goes, I know she'll be okay.
Being a parent has been a steep learning curve for me and my husband. And now, as she stands on the cusp of her future, we'll have to learn one more thing. How to manage without her.
She's ready to fly and we can only stand back and wish her a brilliant journey.
Monday, 15 February 2021
I don't know about you but I'm finding the constant zoom calls and video conferencing exhausting.
Silly, isn't it? It's hardly manual labour. But a lot of my work has moved online and there's something about spending hours speaking to people 'virtually' that leaves me jaded.
And it's not just work, of course. These days, internet is the only way to see friends and family. And yes, you can make it more fun with a cocktail or two... but it's not the same. Even talking to loved ones on a zoom screen can leave you exhausted.
And I'm not alone. Apparently 'zoom fatigue' is a thing, and it's something to do with having to focus on one small space for a prolonged period of time. Normally in a work meeting we'd be doodling or checking emails or having a side conversation with a colleague. But now we're all sitting in front of a screen hoping our other halves or our cat doesn't make an unexpected appearance in the background.
Sometimes I feel as though I'm glued to my laptop. When I'm not talking to it, I'm writing on it. I've managed to produce a novella, a short sequel to my urban fantasy Mark of the Djinn. It's called The Prince and his Thief and it's available to order now on Amazon. Check it out by clicking here.
I have two more virtual conferences this week and I'm strongly tempted to superimpose a virtual background for them just to liven things up. I have the TARDIS and the Liberator from Blake's Seven. What do you think? I reckon that might combat my zoom fatigue a little!
So what do you find hardest about online working? The lack of social interaction? The fact that your home is now your workspace? The extended screen time? Comment below, I'd love to hear your thoughts.
Tuesday, 29 December 2020
In 2001, I went on my honeymoon to Capri off the coast of Italy. In a sea cave known as the Blue Grotto, I nearly drowned.
I had swum inside the cave to find a young man treading water. He had been unable to find his way out (the cave exit was beneath the waterline) and he was tired and in distress. In his panic, he tried to grab me and use me to keep him afloat. But of course his weight simply pushed us both under.
I remember the air leaving my lungs and the strength leaving my limbs. The only reason I found the energy to break free was because I knew it would be horribly embarrassing to die three days into married life.
Luckily my husband was outside the cave and he was able to send in some life jackets to rescue the young man. At the time, when I’d recovered my composure, I just filed it away as a funny story to tell at dinner parties and put the whole thing to the back of my mind.
Or so I thought.
Several months later my husband and I were in Australia on a scuba-diving trip. We hadn’t dived for ages and I was really looking forward to it. We’re both qualified; in fact I’m a certified PADI Rescue diver.
But as soon as we entered the water, I panicked. The waves splashed against my mask, and I felt my chest close up. I couldn’t breathe, and I had to abandon the dive and get back on the boat.
What happened? It was a delayed reaction from my near-drowning months earlier in Capri. Something that I had laughed off as a strange experience suddenly resurfaced in the most dramatic way, and it was some time before I could dive again without hyperventilating.
The point of this story is that things can affect us even when we think they haven’t. And as we approach 2021, we need to be aware of the long-term impact of the coronavirus pandemic on our mental health.
Lockdown, social distancing, isolation – all have taken their toll. According to the president of the Royal College of Psychiatry, the coronavirus pandemic is the biggest hit to mental health since World War 2. And according to the charity MIND, there’s been a 15 per cent increase in urgent referrals of people suffering mental health crises since March. Even when the pandemic is done, many of us may continue to feel the effects for a while longer
So my New Year’s resolution is to take more time to check with my loved ones on how they're really doing. To not automatically accept their ‘fine, thanks’ at face value. And above all, to let people know it’s okay not to be okay. Because sometimes we aren’t, and we shouldn’t try to dismiss it.
If you love Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters, urban fantasy or paranormal romance, click on the picture or https://bit.ly/3rFv4ac for a chance to win gifts and books including a box set of ”The Mortal Instruments” Series, a hardcover copy of ”The Shadowhunter’s Codex”, a paperback copy of ”From Blood and Ash” by Jennifer L. Armentrout, & a $20 Amazon Gift Card. Closing date is January 5th 2021 at 11.45pm UTC.
Happy New Year, everyone!
Tuesday, 1 December 2020
'Tis the season of good cheer. Not that we've had much to cheer about in 2020, have we? But now with news of one or more coronavirus vaccines on the horizon, next year is already promising to be better.
For my readers, I have a gift. The first book in my paranormal romance duology, Kingdom of Salt, is free to all from December 2nd to 5th inclusive. If you like fantasy kingdoms, feisty heroines, smouldering guys and slow-burn romance you can download your ebook by clicking on the cover.
AND as an added bonus, the sequel Realm of Sirens is now available to order. Click below to be taken to your local Amazon site. It has a good old Happy Ever After, which I think we all need more of right now.
It took me longer than expected to get the sequel out, I'll be honest. It was harder to be creative with all that's been going on. Not just coronavirus - I've also been hooked by the US Election. Whatever you think of Trump's presidency, it's never been short of drama, has it?!
I've also been watching a lot of Netflix. Some great series are on right now - The Queen's Gambit was a favourite, and I'm part way through the second season of The Mandalorian. I'm also enjoying Star Trek Discovery. Star Trek is one of those series that has managed to constantly reinvent itself, both on TV and on the big screen.
I suspect reinvention is what a lot of us will be doing next year. How we work, how we shop, how we learn, how we spend our leisure time. Let's hope 2021 is a better year for all of us.
Happy Christmas, everyone!
Wednesday, 14 October 2020
I love October. Starbucks breaks out the Pumpkin Spice Latte, the lawn is covered in a red-gold carpet of leaves, and the spooky-shaped chocolate goes on sale in time for Hallowe'en.
I'm guessing Hallowe'en is going to be a little different this year. No door-to-door trick or treating, which is a shame as the whole coronavirus-mask aesthetic really lends itself to Hallowe'en. Scream, Mike Myers, Jason - all fabulous horror movies where the chills are intensified because the slasher is wearing a mask.
What's your favourite horror movie? Comment below. When I was little I loved the old classic Hammer Horrors, featuring the likes of Dracula, Wolf Man and Frankenstein's Monster.
Then in the eighties, as a teenager, Freddy from Nightmare On Elm Street scared the bejesus out of me.
These days, wolves and vampires are way sexier. Even Frankenstein's monster got a makeover in 2014 when he was played by the easy-on-the-eye Aaron Eckhart.
So in the spirit of monsters-who-aren't-really-evil, here's a selections of books in Kindle Unlimited to prepare you for Hallowe'en. Vampires, wolves, dragons, demons, witches, you name it. And if you're not in KU, most of them are the price of a Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte with whipped cream! Click below for the bundle.
Sunday, 9 August 2020
Saturday, 1 August 2020
Why do we love magical creatures so much?
Every country and every religion has its share of legendary beasts. Some of them are cross-cultural – dragons, or versions of dragons, turn up nearly everywhere. Human fascination with mythical creatures has persisted for centuries.
My love affair with magical animals started with Carbonel, a witch’s cat who could talk to you as long as you were holding the witch’s broom. Then there was Mr Tumnus in CS Lewis’s Narnia – a faun (part human, part goat) - and the glorious Fledge, originally a cabby’s horse called Strawberry who was given wings by Aslan (a talking lion, obviously).
Maybe this is what we love about them. The ability to be more than just an ordinary creature. Maybe we all wish we could sprout wings or breathe fire. And maybe it also explains why we love vampires and werewolves so much.
Originally they were created as creatures of horror – let’s face it, Nosferatu was no-one’s idea of a romantic date. But they later morphed into love interests. These fantasy figures of terror became the heroes, not the villains. Even the less aesthetically-pleasing supernaturals have had a makeover of late. Terry Pratchett made an orc a hero in one of his last books, ‘Unseen Academicals’.
In writing, fantasy tends to go through trends. Maybe it’s witches and werewolves one year, vampires and fae the next. But the fascination persists with creatures that are more powerful, more beautiful and more seductive than we are.
I’ve put fantastical beasts into all my books so far. My last book, Kingdom of Salt, was based on mermaids. My latest urban fantasy Mark of the Djinn is due out in August. It not only features a – the clue’s in the title – magical djinn (or genie), but there’s also another mythical creature which plays a small role. I won’t spoil the surprise, but it’s a legendary beast that fascinated me when I was a kid.