Different ways to cope.

April 18^th. 2020

I would like to begin by paying tribute here to Captain Thomas Moore, the 99-year-old veteran who has raised an incredible £20,000,000 for the NHS by walking round his house. Such a stalwart.

It’s been phone appointments and blood tests for Pat and me. Mine was a routine, yearly test with the cancer unit. I was given the all clear for another two years. Pat’s phone call was simply to confirm she was OK for her chemo on Monday. That will be the penultimate one: her final chemo will be a week later. It’s also been a week of tying up loose ends with the various support groups and on-line shoppers. I am now registered as Pat’s carer and have signed up with Crossroads; a professional support group used by the Social Services (or recommended anyway!) Sainsbury’s delivered our groceries yesterday. We got most of what I ordered. And Echo delivered Pat’s prescription milk shakes during the week.

We also had a family Zoom meeting on Wednesday, which meant a lot of smiling faces on screen from as far apart as USA and Australia. It was brilliant. I love to hear the banter between our four sons. They can be quite brutal at times, but it’s always taken in the best spirit. There were about twelve of us on screen, and it went on for about an hour. It cost nothing too. Modern technology, eh? That is one positive you can say about social media: it has brought people together in so many different ways in these trying times.

I spent some time on building ads on Amazon with Brian Cohen’s Amazon Ads School. As always, when the tutor explains the simplicity of formulating your ad etc., it rarely works in practice. My results have been abysmal, but I live in hope that one day the sun will rise on my efforts and I’ll see some really encouraging results. I am also working my way through the Scott Mariani thriller, House of War. I’m struggling but I will finish it: that could be next Monday when I’m sitting in my car outside the cancer clinic while Pat has her chemo.

I know from some posts on my FB book groups, that many writers are finding the forced lockdown extremely helpful in getting words on paper and looking ahead to finishing their books well ahead of schedule. Of course, there are those who have dried up completely, and I include myself among them. I know I’m trying to campaign on AMS, but yesterday I managed to fall asleep during one of Brian Cohen’s training videos. When I came to, Tuppence was sat watching me because it was time to share an apple. Its something we do each afternoon, and often she comes up and nudges me when its time. Dogs are so clever, eh? Perhaps I should get her to do the video training while I curl up at her Mum’s feet.

I’m still waiting to hear from Joffe Books. One of my boys asked me if I was tempted to write and ask what the delay was. I am tempted, but at the same time there could be a genuine reason, maybe related to absence from work because of the lockdown, and illness, or simply the amount of work and preparation that goes into taking on a new author. When I had my first book accepted years ago by Macmillan, I think it was about eight months before I was able to hold the book in my hand. Wonderful time that was. I know Joffe Books is a digital company, so it could happen a lot quicker. Just got to be patient, that’s all. Wish me luck!

No separation

April 11^th. 2020

What a week again for all of us. Doesn’t help having to look after a sick wife knowing that each time I go out I may pick up the bug. I received an email from Sainsbury’s though, telling me that they now have me on their list as a vulnerable person and I can register with them for on-line shopping and I am allowed priority slots. Great. I signed up, gave them my bank card details, filled a shopping trolley and went to the checkout. No, it doesn’t work like that. There are no slots. Not only are there no slots, their on-line calendar shows nothing at all: no reserved slots, no booked slots, and no special slots for registered, extremely vulnerable people. Can’t email them either because all their email addresses are ‘no reply’. And incidentally, I have a full shopping trolley parked on-line with Tesco too! Where next then, Aldi?

My book world is showing a very small sign of an opening because of Book Bub ads. I’ve sold eight books this month on D2D, and this is often reflected when I advertise on BB. The sales are spread around Apple, B&N, Kobo and Nook. Some are with Amazon, so hopefully I can make some inroads into higher sales. Or maybe my AMS ads will come to life and show some presence on my dashboard. I’m in for an Advertising exercise with Bryan Cohen’s ad school next week in which he will be challenging his students, and any other outsiders who sign up, to spend five days with him on-line rising to the challenge and realising a profit on AMS. Don’t know how I’ll manage to keep up with him, but I’ll just have to set some time aside and make the effort. I won’t neglect Pat though.

Last week I mentioned memories, and how songs trigger them. Well, something else triggered a memory for me: a post on FB. The person was singing the praises of Sir Keir Starmer, newly elected leader of the Labour party, and at the same time making some unpleasant things about Boris Johnson. Don’t know why this person thought it necessary to sling a bit of mud, but maybe that’s how some extreme politicos work. Anyway, my mind went back to when I was working for a living at the potato factory. It was a twelve-hour night shift, I was the only maintenance man on shift, and a pump had stopped working over the potato store. It was at the bottom of a 50,000-litre tank and I knew it would be blocked with mud. It was ten o’clock at night; just the right time to be in the pub on a Saturday night, but I had no choice but to call in Wally and his gobbler. Wally was a small man, about 5’3”. He always wore a single-breasted jacket and wore a cloth cap. And his face was covered in lumps; loads of them like lumpy porridge. Poor Wally. The gobbler was Wally’s old tanker, which we often used to suck out blocked drains and sumps. And Wally was an ardent socialist. Anyway, I managed to suck out all the water with a submersible pump, and then removed the inspection plate at the bottom of the tank. It was obvious what the problem was as me and Wally peered in at the sea of mud. And while all this was happening, Wally was banging on about Margaret Thatcher and the workers revolution which was about to come. All the Tory wasters would be put to the sword and the country would become a true socialist haven where all the workers would enjoy what was rightfully theirs. So, there was a working-class Tory and a working-class Socialist with a problem, but I knew it wouldn’t be Wally who would be clambering into that tank with a shovel to dig the pump out. We’re all in this together.

Still haven’t heard from Joffe Books. Wish me luck and stay safe!

Fencing and painting

April 4^th. 2020

Another drab week for Pat, but she’s pulling through now. Two more weeks to her penultimate chemo, then one more. I know we could all do without the pandemic, but it makes it increasingly difficult knowing that I can’t put Pat in her wheelchair and take her for a walk along the prom at Bognor, just to cheer her up. When we were clapping at 8 o’clock the other night, I joked that Pat was clapping for me because I was her carer, but we are under no illusions as to who the gesture was for. I don’t envy those NHS workers who have to go into work daily, at the ‘coalface’ so to speak, and hope they don’t catch the virus. Quite scary.

I finished the book I was reading because of the amount of time I waited in the car while Pat was having chemo (not allowed in with her now). This was ‘House in the Woods’ by Mark Dawson. It was a five-star read; I would recommend it. I had planned to start on Scott Mariani’s book, House of War, but managed to get distracted by David Jason as Inspector Frost on ITV hub. Maybe next week I’ll give Mr. Mariani a look.

I found myself thinking about a development in my pulp fiction thriller, which I get to when I can and don’t expect to finish until the end of the year. Anyway, I came up with some pretty good ideas, mulled them around a bit and decided I should get them into the book and help get me somewhere in the development of the story. Trouble is I was in the shower. Perhaps I should have a waterproof pen and notebook with when I take shower. I can remember some of the bright ideas I had, but it was eight hours ago and I’m beginning to flag. I might get round to jotting them down somewhere.

My book sales for last month were pretty good, but that was because of the Book Bub featured deal. I sold about 400 copies of The Boy from Berlin, and a few of my other titles. I’m back on the flat line again but will be looking into adjusting my advertising campaigns. Doing that is quite complicated, and I’m almost in awe of those writers who can crack the minutiae of Amazon ads and sell hundreds of books a month.

Another job I have to keep on top of is the garden. And that’s the reason for the photo this week: our garden seat which takes pride of place outside our front door. It needed painting, which I did yesterday, and finished off retightening all the screws so it doesn’t fall apart. It’s this part of the garden — we call it our cottage garden — which looks lovely when the hanging baskets and the wisteria are in full bloom. That has always been Pat’s domain, but she’s too frail to tackle it now, so it’s my job. And I mustn’t let her down. I spent part of the week repairing a fence that had succumbed to the high winds in February and March. I had to patch it together because I couldn’t afford the time to spend at B&Q looking for the right wood and getting it cut. I don’t even know if B&Q are open though. Anyway, the fence is back up and soon the wisteria will be trailing its way through it.

That’s it for the week. Still haven’t heard from Joffe Books. Wish me luck.

Memories

28^th. March 2020

It goes without saying that this last week has been terrible for all of us. I’m sure the coronavirus has impacted on everyone, taking away our freedoms and compelling us to live according to a set of rules that are alien to us. Most have had to cope and put up with the inconvenience of self-isolating, social distancing and joining lengthy queues at the supermarket. I can’t go to my sister’s funeral next week either, which is very disappointing, but it’s for our own safety and the safety of all those people in the NHS and outside who have to get close to those who may have the bug. Me and Pat clapped on Tuesday night along with thousands of others around the globe. So, because of the daily horrors, I thought I would talk less about pain and more about pleasure. Well, sort of.

Last Sunday was my featured deal day with Book Bub for my book The Boy from Berlin, although not in the USA. My total book sales for that book were 448 across Amazon and D2D. I just about made my money back, but at least I may have picked up a few more reader fans. I have also been adding to my subscribers with The Devil’s Trinity, my nuclear thriller. I did have Hell’s Gate as the free book with Voracious Readers but changed that last week. The thriller seems to be attracting more subscribers.

I’ve been asked to join a small team of submissions editors for a charity book being produced by Acclaimed Books. The book will be about stories associated with the current crisis and the proceeds will go to a charity to be decided later. I have been a member of Acclaimed Books for about ten years now and can probably call myself one of the founder members. There were six of us when ABC began as a self-publishing group. I have had very little to do with them over the recent years, apart from the odd Facebook post, but have kept in touch with Peter Lihou, the founding ‘father’ of the group.

Recalling past times came to me again this morning when I heard Tony Bennett on the radio singing the song, ‘I left my heart in San Francisco’. It took me back to when I was in the Merchant Navy and had just spent five days there. As a teenager, it was magical. I did more than just sightseeing; even tried to crew the ship’s sailing boat round the Bay. We intended going around Alcatraz Island, but never made it; the wind and the currents were too much for us. But great fun.

Another song that takes me straight back to my MN days is ‘Dream Lover’ by Bobby Darrin. I was a First-Class dining steward and will always remember a mate of mine by the name of Mick Green. Mick was a good-looking lad, a real Mister ‘Cool’ as well, and a hit with the ladies. But the song always brings to mind the time we were leaving Hong Kong to return to the UK. We were in the dining saloon waiting for the passengers to come in, when in walked this gorgeous looking girl. She had just embarked, so none of had seen her before. She was what we would have called a “cracking bit of stuff”, and was wearing a yellow dress (yes, girls wore dresses in those days!). She was immediately dubbed “Canary”. I could write a book about that, but it would be total fiction. Although Mick might have tried it on; I’m pretty sure of that. But that’s what ‘Dream Lover’ does to me: takes me back to the Canary. I was engaged to Pat anyway, so I was always on my best behaviour.

I still haven’t heard from Joffe Books. Wish me luck!

Getting my ducks in a row.

21st. March 2020

This was the week I celebrated my 79^th. birthday. Once upon a time I was allowed to ‘celebrate’, now I’m afraid it’s ‘celebate’. C’est la vie! Pat has had a reasonable week, and I even managed to take her out for a ride in the car. Went down to Selsey and was out for about an hour. Didn’t get out of the car of course, but it gave Pat a chance to get some relief rather than going stir-crazy at home.

In accordance with the rules in place, Pat had a phone appointment with the haematologist confirming she was OK for her next chemo session on Monday. Obviously we can’t avoid it, but no-one wants to go to a hospital while we’re all worrying and wondering about the virus warnings. Yesterday afternoon I had to go to our surgery for Pat so I could pick up a prescription from the nurse. One of Pat’s recurring problems again, which meant I had to phone up (took ages to get through) and ask their advice. The nurse was able to make out a prescription, but it had to be electronically handled, which meant a doctor adding their pin before it could go to the chemist. Half an hour later I’m at the chemist but no prescription. Had to go back later.

I had planned to take advantage yesterday of Tesco’s shopping hour for pensioners between 9 and 10 o’clock in the morning. Then I thought about all those pictures I’d seen on social media and in the Press of huge queues and empty shelves and wondered if it was all worth it. And why be herded into groups, piling up against on-line shopping trolleys at the check-outs and risk picking up some bug? I thought better of it and went over my local Tesco Express and got the stuff I needed there.

So, what about my book world? I’m making very slow progress on my pulp fiction thriller. Not encouraging really, but at least I’m writing. Book sales are practically non-existent but could pick up later because I have my Book Bub featured deal on Sunday. Fingers crossed for that. I’ve also taken what I think could be a major step in my writing career (funny word that for an ‘old un’ like me); I have enrolled in Mark Dawson’s 101 course. Any budding writer out there who still can’t get their head round the minutiae of publishing, promotion and marketing should have a look at what the course offers. I’ve been an ‘alumni’ of Mark’s for something like five years now and have often wondered about the 101 course. I’ve seen podcasts with established writers who were struggling until they signed up for the course. It’s a bit pricey, particularly when you add the 20% VAT, but there are easy payment options. Incidentally, I’m not an affiliate of Mark’s, so I don’t earn a commission for recommending it. The link, if you want a peek, is https://learn.selfpublishingformula.com/p/101.

My reading this week is actually Mark Dawson’s latest book, The House in the Woods. I paused Scott Mariani’s thriller but will get back to it. Oh, and if any you like gritty drama, country music and damn fine singing and acting, have a look at ‘Wild Rose’ starring Jessica Buckley.

That’s it for now. Next week is chemo week and keeping my fingers crossed for book sales. Haven’t heard from Joffe Books yet, but at least they are digital publishers and can work from home. Hope so, anyway. Wish me luck!

From major to minor

14^th. March 2020

So that’s another week written off for me. Pat became ill on Tuesday and was admitted to the emergency ward at St. Richards. All her markers were rock bottom, and it took three transfusions, several saline drips and antibiotics to get her back to normal. The transfusions have to be irradiated, and consequently have to come down from London. Thankfully I have her home now, but she has to self-isolate for eleven days. This isn’t because she was diagnosed with the Corona virus, but she was tested as a precaution and consequently needs to complete the fourteen-day self-isolation. That means no visitors and no trips out. We had to cancel four appointments booked for next week, and now will be relying on a phone appointment with the haematologist for her pre-chemo check. The chemo is scheduled for next Monday and should go ahead. Poor Pat.

I managed to find a home for Tuppence while Pat was in hospital. I use a group called Barking Mad. Very efficient and reliable. I contacted them Tuesday evening and at 12.30 the following day they had found a home (a “Host” as they call the dog minders) for Tuppence and picked her up. I’ve used Barking Mad a few times before and am very happy with their service. Tuppence is due back on Tuesday. This gives me a chance to get out in the garden and spray some weed killer about.

Naturally my book world has taken a back seat, but I’m hoping to go to a meeting of our Chindi book group in ten days’ time. Just to be in a group of like-minded people, talking about the direction in which we think our Chindi group should go and maybe chatting about our books etc. will be like some kind of therapy for me.

I finished The Lonely Skier by Hammond Innes. He was a remarkable storyteller, although I must admit that the book seemed a little dated. I still enjoyed it. My next literary venture is Scott Mariani’s House of War. I’ll let you know how I got on with that next week. Bearing in mind that all football has been postponed in UK, it means I’ll have more time to sink my nose into a book in the evenings instead of watching the footie on my laptop.

Last Monday was the Self-Publishing Show Live at the South Bank in London, something I would have been attending if it hadn’t been for Pat’s illness. Judging from the Facebook responses, the show was brilliant, and the evening on the Dixie Queen river boat was a real hoot. They plan to have the show again next year and have even contemplated a two-day event. They just about managed to sneak in before the Corona virus ban was implemented. Hopefully, no-one who attended the event will have picked up the bug.

I’ve no idea how my week will go next week. I might be able to put pen to paper and write a few more words for my pulp fiction thriller. Or not. But my main focus is Pat and avoiding the virus. Wish me luck!

One Gee's enough

7^th. March 2020

Our week began in a similar fashion to the previous one: shoot into the hospital on Monday morning for a blood test (for Pat), dash home, bite to eat, walk the dog and then back for the afternoon chemo session. Home by six o’clock, grub, feet up, watch TV. Phew! Poor Pat: this chemo session was more tiring for her, probably because she started her morning tummy jabs on Monday, which usually means her immune system is at its lowest. The jabs are finished now, and she is showing signs of improvement already, thank God.  We now have one eye appointment for Pat this week, then a couple of weeks before we’re back on the treadmill.

Some sad news for me as well this week: my elder sister, Joyce, died after an operation which she knew could be fatal. She was 90, very frail, and not really expected to last much longer. She had a fall at home which led to the op and her subsequent death. In the midst of life etc…

I struggled to get through the crime thriller (?) I was reading. The author, who currently has a series on Amazon and apparently doing well, made what I believe is a basic mistake, and one that irritates me intensely. The two main characters, one a DCI and the other a DS were called Grecko and Grace. The more pages I turned, so my irritation increased I was literally speed reading just to get to the end. I mentioned this to one of my sons during the week. He told me that when he attended a script writing course in London about twenty years ago, they were told never to use the same initial letters for characters because of the confusion it would lead to. This was the same script writing school that Guy Ritchie had attended the year before my son. So, I’m not alone in considering that kind of thing as poor writing. But that’s my opinion and I could be wrong.

No news yet from Joffe Books about Past Imperfect, but I don’t really expect anything until probably the end of the month.

Having ‘finished’ that book I started looking for something else, going through the best sellers etc. on Amazon until I leapt back into my past and downloaded a Hammond Innes novel. Innes has always been my favourite writer and I read most of his books, including this one, The Lonely Skier. I can’t remember anything about it of course because it was so long ago, but already I’m enjoying a master wordsmith. Incidentally, it was his novel, Campbell’s Kingdom that inspired me to write North Slope (https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01L02R626): published by Macmillan in 1978 and saw me being described as a “gifted narrator” in the Financial Times. Thanks to Hammond Innes.

I managed to make more microscopic progress on my current WIP. I will get there eventually, but I have to fit my writing time in when I can. I’m currently writing this blog in the front room after walking the dog, quick shop over the road, and getting the ironing done. And on top of all this, just like everyone, I have to give serious thought to the corona virus and all it portends, particularly as I’m looking after a vulnerable woman, and also because I’m at that age (79 this month), which also puts me in that category. I would have been travelling up to London tomorrow for the Self-Publishing Live show at the South Bank on Monday. I cancelled my ticket last December, so have had plenty of time to get used to the idea of not going. The London Book Fair has been cancelled, and we wondered if the SBS Live would be too. But it’s going ahead, and they are expecting most of the 900 who purchased tickets to attend. A few have pulled out because of the virus implications, which is a shame for them.

That’s it then. Now, where are my pills? Wish me luck.