Faith Mortimer-author of crime, suspense, romance & action
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"Are Yours Stars in Alignment?"

28/5/2011

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“Are Your Stars in Alignment?”

Good Day Everyone.

The buzz about eBooks is never ending and has recently grown to enormous proportions ever since one top indie writer and one traditional publishing guru switched their publishing strategy for the other’s.

But I see there’s still a mental division between the indie world and the traditional world, despite many authors having success in both camps. What I find really astonishing, is that a lot of the successful indie authors, started by publishing their traditional back list – a well-orchestrated movement on their part.

Many writers have a selection of books that have been edited, and perhaps reviewed. What better than to put them back into circulation as an eBook and target a new audience? Obviously not every title on authors’ back lists is good enough for publishing - but you get my point I’m sure.

An indie writer has total control of their book and manuscript, whereas the traditional writer has the distribution and visibility from a publishing house. So a writer established by a traditional house, already has a fan base that has read and loved their work.

An indie starting from scratch has to hand-sell their first hundred or so books. This is sheer hard work; talking about their book, and hoping for a purchase, through reviews, features on indie sites and blog tours.

Once your book is accepted for review, it can take at least a month before the book is looked at by the reviewer as more and more writers send their eBooks for consideration. Getting recognition is a long, hard process, and on average most indie writers say that it doesn’t really start to take off until after their sixth month. And, any advertising money spent before the indie writer has good solid reviews under their belt is really wasted.

However, many indie writers are writing full time and supporting their families. This suggests to me, that indie authorship is actually more similar to traditional publishing than one might think.

Some indie writers will get to the top, some will wallow on the bottom, and some will make a comfortable living doing what they love. The real difference between the two types of writer is when a book sees a spate of sales. In traditional publishing, the focus is on pre-selling to retailers in a big push and in launching the book as successfully as possible. This opening big push is going to determine what happens to the book for the rest of its shelf-life.

In indie publishing, most authors will see a totally different sales pattern – often in reverse. For example, an indie may sell over the months;

Month 1 – 10 books, Month 2 – 39 books, Month 3 – 105 books, Month 4 – 315 books,

 Month 5 – 800 books.

The sales grow, and the jumps each month that a successful indie sees become larger and larger.

So, an indie author has to be popular to become successful; people have to be talking about your books when you’ve stopped hand selling.

Still, you’ll have seen that in five months, there have been less than 1,000 copies sold. A traditionally (successful) published author might sell 15,000 copies in that same timeframe. But as the indie author’s sales patterns look more like a bell curve, rather than that initial push and then a lower plateau, they have time to catch up.

But, get down to earth all of you budding writers…please consider, 800 books at the $0.99 price point that many indies start a series at, is $280 in royalties!

It’s a hard slog! Especially as the really successful ones each write in one or two genres, have at least one series, and are extremely prolific. Release dates are within weeks or months of each other, instead of about a year apart.

Indie authors have to be:
-- excellent writers and moderately good marketers
-- moderately good writers and excellent marketers
-- zombies who don’t ever sleep, and are both excellent writers and marketers.

If the book isn’t well written and well marketed, it will fall to the bottom and reinforce the stereotype that indie publishing is a bunch of authors with crappy books who were tired of being rejected by agents and publishers. But I believe this stigma will change over time, too.

Because in the future, I think we are going to see more and more authors using both traditional and indie publishing to build their careers. And I think this is good news for all publishing; traditional and indie.

Hot Aubergine Chutney….Warning – this is HOT!!!!

Ingredients:
    2 lb (1 kg) aubergines
    3 tablespoons salt
    6 oz (175 g) soft dark brown sugar
    12 fl oz (350 ml) white wine vinegar
    3 oz (75 g) seedless raisins or sultanas
    1 tablespoon tomato puree
    5 cloves of garlic
    1 lb (500 g) onions
    1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
    3 red chillies

Method:

Slice the aubergines, put into a colander and sprinkle with the salt. Leave for at least three hours, then rinse and dry.
Meanwhile, put the sugar, vinegar, raisins and tomato puree into a bowl, mix and leave to stand.
Finely chop the onions and red chillies and place with all of the other ingredients into a pan.
Heat gently, stirring until the sugar is dissolved, then simmer until thickened.
Pour into hot sterilized jars and seal. The chutney is ready a month or two later and gets better the more it matures!
Makes about 3 lb (1.5 kg) of chutney.

Good reading and good eating everyone1
Faithx

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A Fantastic New Review for The Assassins' Village.

25/5/2011

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The Assassins’ Village by Faith Helen Mortimer
Reviewed by Cathy Speight (Book Junkies Group on Facebook)


This was a well-composed book and I can best describe it as an Agatha Christie-type murder mystery. Set in a sleepy, small Cypriot village, I half expected Hercule Poirot, Jane Marple or even Inspector Barnaby from Midsomer Murders to pop up at any time. The group of characters was well constructed, each of them well described, as was the setting for this thriller, so much so, I could almost feel the sultry heat of the Cypriot climate and even the sun’s rays bouncing off the white-washed walls – the author’s knowledge of Cyprus was certainly evident and used to advantage.
Each chapter had a pertinent quote from Macbeth in its title and I particularly liked the Dramatis Personae – I referred to it for at least 30% into the book. The characters were varied and interesting and whilst the suspects for the crimes each had compelling motives, you are kept guessing until the very end. It was a bit like a very nearly finished jigsaw and you can’t find the last piece. The end of this book was just like that – you reach the final page, but you feel slightly uneasy, because a crucial piece is missing – until you turn one more page ….and there it is. Brilliant.
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Latest Mastermind Contender~Larry Enright

24/5/2011

3 Comments

 
Good Day to Everyone!

What a lot has happened in a few days. In breaking news we see that; Twitter has acquired TweetDeck for more than $40 million in a mix of cash and stock, according to sources! President Obama visits Eire (Southern Irleand) for the first time~ as did Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip. The death tell continues to rise after the horrific Joplin tornado and Donald Trump is making a late presidential bid! Now that item is news, even if just for the entertainment factor! This brings me onto my own bit of fun. The latest contender in my Mastermind series. Today's gallows subject is the astounding writer, Larry Enright. Please welcome him and see how he fares against the others. Enjoy!!
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Authors Mastermind: Round 1

Good evening and welcome to tonight’s edition of Authors’ Mastermind. My name is Faith Mortimer and I welcome tonight’s first contender. Could you please state your name and occupation?

Let’s just say for the sake of conversation that I am Larry Enright. You can call me Mr E. Telling you my real name would reveal my secret identity to the world and I would need to relocate my Fortress of Solitude to the North Pole where the property taxes are lower.
Thank you Mr err, E. Now, can you tell us your chosen subject? …
My chosen subjects are siblings and neighbourhood kids who let me boss them around.  We are the Caswell Gang. I am their king and they are my court of fools. By the way, your British spell-checker is forcing me to put the letter “U” into words. Bully.
Now would you please answer the following questions on your chosen subject? You have a maximum number of 250 words on each question. If you do not know the answer, say pass and we’ll move on to another question. The total number of passes will be counted and deducted against your final score. Are you ready?
No.
Good then I’ll begin.
I said ‘no.’ Fine, have it your way...

1. Mr. E., how do you describe yourself; as a writer and as a person?
As a writer, I am the bomb. As a person, I am more the bomber. You might recall my famous Alphabet Bombing Campaign from my adventures in Four Years from Home. It was written up in all the important journals of the time, such as the Book of Tom.
2. Do you do anything that would tell us you lead an interesting or indeed a crazy life?
Me, crazy? Do I look crazy? Do I act crazy? I’m not paranoid. Who are you calling paranoid? I refuse to answer this question on the grounds that I’m not crazy.
3. Er, do sit down Mr E and put that away. I said put it away. Now! Okay, okay he’s unarmed now. Let us resume. Briefly, describe your journey into writing your first book and what or who inspired you.
I am totally self-inspired. That comes basically from the fact that no one likes me, but that being said, my journey into writing was my attempt at telling a story of my love for my stupid brother. That was my novel, Four Years from Home. I should have named it, Harry is stupid and why is he missing and why should I care? But the editor said that wouldn’t fly. I miss Harry.
4. Are you working on anything right now?
I am working on two things: the sequel to Four Years from Home, which will be out in the fall, and a serial adventure of the young Tom Ryan, the anti-hero from Four Years from Home, that I publish weekly on the Internet for all to see and throw tomatoes at. The serial is called A King in a Court of Fools. Google it, I dare you. Chicken. If you read Four Years from Home, you’d get the joke behind it all. If you didn’t, why not? Chicken? I knew it.
5b. What is your next book about, and where do you get your ideas from?
My next book, which has the working title, Shut up, I’m trying my best, is about what happens to me after Four Years from Home. Wait, did I say “me?” I meant to say, “Tom Ryan.” I firmly believe that I get my ideas from Mars or some other planet whose name possibly begins with a “U.” Can you prove I don’t?
6. How would you define your writing working day? Give us some indication of where you work, and the length of time you spend on your project.
My best writing time is early in the morning when I still have some energy rattling around in my brain. That doesn’t quite fit with my having a 9 to 5 job, but maybe soon that will change and I can do more writing in those quality hours. My best work is done in what we call “the office.” We called it that long before that TV show I have never seen. I don’t watch TV anymore since they flushed it down the toilet. I spent four years on my first novel. The sequel will take about one year.
7. Tell us about characterisation. How do you develop your characters? Do you feel they are important in the overall picture? Do you ever base them on real people?
It’s all about me. So my characters do what I tell them to do whether they like it or not. If I say, “Get real,” they get real. If I tell them to develop more, they hop to it. I try not to tell the girl characters that, they’re pretty sensitive about things like that and hit pretty hard. Believe it.
8. What about the editing and redrafting process? When do you do this?
I am perfect, so the question hardly applies, does it? But if it did, I would do it whenever I wanted. You can’t stop me.
9. How have you overcome any trials and tribulations of rejection?
Oh, you really do not want to know what I am capable of. Read Four Years from Home, you’ll see what I’m talking about.
10. If you were not writing, what would be your choice of employment?
I would be a diplomat. I am very diplomatic. People do what I tell them to do. That’s what it’s all about, right?
Thank you. Your score on your chosen subject is 7. You failed on 3. You chose two subjects in question 1 instead of 1 subject. You lost points for verbal abuse in calling me a bully, I’m not! And you lost another point for striking me, the question master, with a child’s bucket and spade.
Now for the General Knowledge section.
What’s with all the questions? My agent said I only had to answer ten. Okay, whatever. Just to show you I’m easy.
1. Which book(s) are you reading at the moment?
The Gifts, by Linda Prather and Confessions, by Ryne Douglas Pearson. Both are great books.
2. Name your five favourite authors.
That’s like asking me to name my favourite songs. There are too many. Sorry, Ryne, Linda, Mark, Frank, and Agatha.
3. Who, out of your five favourite people would you like to invite to dinner at your house. You will be doing the catering. What is your ideal menu, you would provide? (You must be able to cook this!)
Mother Teresa, George Harrison, Michael Palin, and two street people chosen at random. The street people for their wisdom, George would play for us, Michael would make us laugh, and Mother Teresa would remind us why we are really here. I would make Chilli. I make the best chilli east of Mullica Hill and west of Glassboro.
4. Do any authors inspire you? If so, which ones?
Tough question, too tough. Uncle.
5. What things in your life would you love to do that you haven’t yet achieved. Your answer should NOT be ‘become a rich and famous author’. If you fall back on this answer, then 3 marks will be deducted from your overall score.
I want to be on Letterman, play guitar and talk about anything I want.
6. Describe your ideal day; working and leisure (only clean answers please).
Wake up, realize I am still alive, and make the most of it.
7. What has been the most memorable thing that has happened to you in a, your writing career and b, in your private life (again, only cleans answers will be accepted).
When my Dad said he liked Four Years from Home.
8. Are you a disciplined person in everyday life? How would/does this reflect in your writing?
Yes, my wife and children discipline me every day. It reflects in my writing like the warm sun off the blue lake on a clear mountain morning. How’s that?
9. Do you keep a dart-board handy with rejection letters from Publishing House editors’ photographs pinned to it? If so, what is your highest score?
Nope.
10. What are your five desert island books?
Swiss Family Robinson, Gilligan’s Island, Treasure Island, Fantasy Island, Kidnapped.
Tie-breaker question. Tell us the most outrageous/embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you. What were the consequences? A bonus of 5 extra points will be awarded to the best answer from contenders to the Authors Mastermind Crown.
In high school, I was asked to compete in a writing contest. The winner would be chosen as class valedictorian. I thought the whole thing was a joke. I was definitely a rebel without a cause at that point in my life. So I wrote a speech that vividly expressed my disdain for the education system and resentment at having been thrown into a world not of my own choosing. But the speech also spoke of hope if only we, the graduates, would accept the challenge and begin a process of change to make it better for those that follow us. I delivered the speech and won the contest. That embarrassment became a defining moment in my life when I gave the speech at the Civic Arena in Pittsburgh in 1968.

Thank you. Your time is now up. You managed to complete all questions with no passes. However you failed on three of these. You failed to give the surnames of your favourite authors. You bragged about your chilli when everyone knows MINE is best and you passed completely on naming any inspiring authors – and just who is Uncle?

Your overall score would therefore normally be 14, but I have deducted 10 marks for being a smart-arse. And for your information that is arse, not ass as this is a British run Mastermind competition. Mr E, I don’t think we’ll be inviting you back for measuring your head for the crown with a total score of just 4, but for entertainment value I’ll award you the extra 5 points for the tie-breaker question. Your final score is now 9.

Well done and thank you.


3 Comments

The Book everyone is talking about!

20/5/2011

1 Comment

 
Good Morning and Welcome to another Sample Sunday.
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First up, the book that seemingly everyone is talking about... and it isn't even out yet. Yes, the adult picture book, GO THE F**K TO SLEEP is already #1 on Amazon and it still doesn't come out for another month. Darn it, I KNEW I should have titled my book, The Assassins’ Village with something spicier! Mind you - we're currently at positions #9 for best reviews and #18 in best selling new books, so I'm not really complaining!

This Sunday I’ve added another chapter for your perusal; things are hotting up as Tilly discloses she is being stalked…
…and afterwards I’ve included a recipe for my very own Chilli Jam – now THAT’s Spicy!

Chapter 3. The following day.

And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, against the use of nature? Present fears are less than horrible imaginings.                Macbeth. Act 1 Scene 3

Michaels’ Taverna was a blaze of welcoming bright light, merry background bouzouki music and tantalising aromas. Newly opened; word had swiftly spread throughout the community; here the mezes, or Greek for ‘mixtures’ were reputed to be delicious. Tilly had arranged to meet Pete, Ann, Bernard and Jenny for an early supper. After hearing others from their theatre group rave about the taverna, they wanted to try out the menu for themselves.

Tilly arrived early, leaving her house before it got dark so she could enjoy the drive up into the cool hills. The sweet herb-scented air played through her hair as she drove up the twisting road and admired the sweep of the countryside. It was always a welcome relief to leave a hot, fume-filled Limassol and get out to where the vineyards and olive groves climbed the ancient hillside. Before she left her car she stole a look around the parking area. With relief she realised she recognised none of the other cars already there.

 A shy teenage girl greeted her and showed her to a comfy cushioned settee on the wooden veranda. Tilly ordered a glass of the local white wine while she waited on the others. She sipped it slowly, the crispness of the Xinisteri grape crisp and dry on her tongue. Michael placed a dish of locally grown almonds in front of her. He flirted outrageously before giving her fingers a last kiss and then, sighing melodramatically wandered back to the kitchen. Normally, Tilly would have relished his playful and amorous attention, but not this evening. She felt stiff and awkward, her thoughts elsewhere. She fidgeted in her seat, scraped her hair back off her face, felt an imagined itch under her bra strap. Tilly cast an uneasy look around her, willing herself to relax. Something that had evaded her since her unfortunate set to with Leslie. How could she have been so blind? Or weak and stupid! She had never been so annoyed with herself in her life.

A car’s headlights swung into the car park, the tyres crunching over the loose gravel. Tilly peered into the deepening twilight and recognized the battered silhouette of Bernard’s old Hyundai. She smiled, as she pondered, not for the first time, how it continued to trundle up the steep mountain roads to Agios Mamas, let alone pass a road safety test. It would certainly never pass an MOT back in England.

There was a certain amount of gaiety as the four newcomers wandered up to Tilly. Arranging a smile on her face, she stood up to greet her friends.
‘Here we are at last! I wondered if we were ever going to get out this evening. The girls were playing up a bit. How are you, Tilly?’ Ann enveloped her in a matronly hug of ample bosom overlaid with the sweet scent of her usual lavender water.
As ‘the girls’ were a couple of fat Cyprus poodles; small, fluffy bundles on six-inch long legs, Tilly failed to see how they could give anyone any trouble at all. They lived for their twice-daily meals and hardly needed or craved any outdoor exercise of any sort. Show them their leads and they looked puzzled. She smiled as Ann explained.
‘A kitten got in the courtyard and it couldn’t get out again. The girls went completely bananas. Of course we had to capture the poor terrified thing to let it out, and boy could it run. It was hilarious watching Pete. He eventually threw a towel over it and bundled it up. It was the only way. It was hilarious. You’d have died.’
Pete gave her a mock scowl. ‘You didn’t help at all except laugh when the cat leapt over my head,’ he complained. ‘Still we got there in the end. How are you, Tilly m’dear?’ He planted a smacking kiss on both cheeks. ‘You look a bit peaky. Have you lost weight? Oh, and by the way, Tilly, hearty congratulations on getting the leading lady part. You’ll make a fine Lady M.’

Tilly returned his greeting and mumbled something about ‘working out hard at the gym’ down in Episkopi. She ignored his remark about the play as she turned to welcome the others. She complimented Jen on her very short haircut. The new look suited her short and plump friend.

After admiring the stunning view from the veranda Tilly suggested they might like to take their places and give their order. She had reserved a corner table near an open window, which offered a delicious cool evening breeze. Its position also gave them some privacy. The old friends sat down and looked around at the new taverna. It was a typical mountain restaurant with local stone and pine giving it a distinct Alpine feel. The walls were adorned with ‘antiquities’ of Aphrodite’s Island; leather wine sacks, wooden bread carriers, black and white silk pictures, yellowed photographed moustachioed men in black hose and bandoliers, paintings of churches, donkeys and gilt religious icons. The tables were set with blue tasselled tablecloths and yellow paper serviettes. The cheap glass cruets contained lemon juice and olive oil. A terracotta jug stood waiting for the wine and each place was laid with impossibly thin spindly cutlery with plastic handles. Little sprigs of fresh basil and bougainvillea adorned simple jam jars. Their chairs were the usual uncomfortable, backbreaking raffia covered wooden uprights. It was so familiar and yet completely right. The five all loved it.

Delighted to see the group Michael made them welcome with small bowls of olives and nuts to nibble before their meal. A jovial man, he had long been a favourite of expatriates and Cypriots alike when he ran a taverna down on the coastal strip; they were delighted to see him again. They took time to congratulate him on his fine choice of venue for his new restaurant. Michael beamed at their praise.
Bernard ordered litre carafes of both the local village red and white wine. There was no need for bottled water, as they were used to drinking the sweet water that came straight down from the Troodos Mountains. It was filtered through the rocks until it ran crystal-clear.

The dishes were an experience taken only with a loose fitting waistband; Greek salad and dips, accompanied by warmed toasted pitta breads stuffed with Halloumi cheese. Peasant vegetable dishes followed; a stew of black-eyed beans with courgettes and okra in tomato sauce. Cypriots loved their meat ration and the five diners became almost glassy-eyed as their meat dishes arrived. Just when they thought they were winning Michael swooped in with a complimentary plate of fruits and sugar rich baklava that finished their meal perfectly. He gave a deep throaty laugh at the look on their faces. The three women groaned, but Bernard had no qualms. He finished his sticky sweet in record time and then greedily pounced on Tilly’s when she declared herself incapable of eating another mouthful.

‘You have it, Bernard,’ she said, smiling at his unabashed grin of delight.

‘Don’t mind if I do.  Good job I’m still skinny. It was a great idea of yours to come here. We’ll certainly come again when we’re feeling flush.’

‘I don’t think it’s expensive really. The wine’s a bit pricey, but the delicious food makes up for it, don’t you think?’

‘Mmmm it’s been lovely,’ agreed Jenny taking another sip of her white wine.

There was a companionable silence as they sat back watching Bernard polish off the crumbs on his plate. With his enormous appetite he was the envy of all their friends. He could eat as much as he liked without gaining an ounce. It caused plump Jenny and Ann no end of irritation. The taverna was full, and lively with the conversation of the other diners around them. When Bernard had finished the baklava and placed an order for some coffees Tilly took her opportunity to address them.
She looked rather nervous as she glanced around the table. ‘Actually, I wanted to talk to you all about something. I need to ask your advice about a problem.’

Jenny and Bernard immediately exchanged uneasy looks with Pete and Ann before turning their attention back to Tilly. Their apprehension was obvious.

‘Oh?’

’Of course, my dear you go right ahead, you know we’re only too willing to help if we can.’ Jenny said.

Appearing agitated and embarrassed, Tilly paused as she looked, one by one, at those seated around the table. ‘It’s a little - difficult. Umm. Look, I shan’t beat about the bush, but I have been having a bit of a fling with Leslie,’ she burst out, her voice low but audible.

They all looked slightly stunned for a moment. Tilly had their full attention.

‘Well, Pete and I had noticed that he hung around you a lot, especially during the last lot of rehearsals,’ Ann confessed. ‘But, I must say I didn’t know it had got that far.’

Tilly flushed. ‘Was it that noticeable? Oh God! Well it’s all over now. I know he’s married and I shouldn’t have got involved. But he was very charming and sweet-talking. I was going through a low period and he just picked his moment. I was feeling a bit depressed over Keith’s death and needed some old fashioned comfort. I know! I know! I feel really bad about it now, but at the time I enjoyed his attention and flattery.’ Tilly looked down at the table in front of her, too ashamed to meet their gaze.

‘It’s okay, really, Tilly. You don’t have to explain it all to us. You’re unattached, and as for him being married, well honestly Sonja is such a plain, cold fish. I’m sure Leslie jumped at the chance of an affair with a pretty girl like you. You’re not the first my dear. He’s always chased women, dozens of them. And you’ll not be the last. I’m sure everyone here agrees with me.’ Bernard consoled her with a pat on her hand and a twinkle in his eye. Despite Tilly’s shocking revelation there were murmurs of concurrence from around the table. Leslie’s affairs were well known.

‘Yes I’m sure you’re right. It’s just, well I feel disgusted with myself. That’s why I broke it off. I suddenly saw myself in someone else’s eyes. I didn’t want to steal anyone’s husband; it was a passing moment of weakness.’

Bernard continued. ‘I really don’t think you would have gone that far would you? Besides, as I said, he has always rather chased the ladies. It’s part of his raison d’etre. As for feeling disgusted with yourself, don’t. He deliberately makes a play for attractive young females. You would have found it difficult to keep him at arm’s length once he’d made up his mind anyway.’

Tilly considered Bernard’s words; she wasn’t entirely convinced. ‘Mmm maybe.’
She glanced across to Ann and Pete.  ‘You say you noticed he hung around me at rehearsals, do you suppose anyone else noticed? If that’s right, then I might have a problem playing Lady Macbeth. I wouldn’t want any tittle-tattle especially if he does get involved with the set. It’s more than likely he will once he’s got over his paddy.’

Jen intervened as chief gossip for the village and the drama group. ‘Nobody else has said anything in my hearing. So don’t worry. I think you can keep it quiet. Of course Bernard and I won’t tell a soul,’ she looked across at Pete and Ann as if asking for affirmation. They both nodded.

‘Thank you,’ said Tilly. Despite her words she still looked anxious.

‘I don’t think you’ve told us what’s really worrying you though, have you? There’s more to it than that, isn’t there?’ Pete studied Tilly over the rim of his wine glass.

‘You’re right. There is something else,’ her voice had a slight quiver. ‘Ever since I ended it, it’s become difficult. Or rather Leslie’s become difficult.’

‘Ah! He’s playing a male that’s been scorned. He’s suffering from a wounded pride and all that testosterone stuff. Serve him right my dear. Bring him down a peg or two,’ Pete scoffed as he took another quaff of red wine.

‘No, you don’t understand. He’s become a real nuisance. He’s an absolute pain and a - a nightmare.’

Pete lowered his glass slowly, his wine forgotten. He frowned at Tilly. ‘What do you mean exactly?’

Tilly paused. She looked down at the crumb-covered tablecloth before raising her tawny-coloured eyes to meet those of her friends. She looked miserable and on the verge of tears.

‘I mean that he’s constantly ringing me at all hours. Sometimes, when I answer the phone there’s no one there, just a silence. But I know it’s him. I’ve seen him sitting in his car just along the road from my house, spying and waiting for me to come out. Then he’s followed me. Sometimes he comes to my door, where he might or might not ring my bell. I tell you it’s unbearable. I now lock all my windows and doors – in this weather too. And I draw my curtains while it’s still light. The back garden is insecure. He sometimes wanders around when I’m sitting there and he unnerves me. It’s creepy. He’s creepy! And I’m scared.’

Her last line she whispered. With some alarm, they watched as tears filled her eyes. Ann looked horrified and covered her mouth with her hand.
Jenny was shocked into momentary silence. Her face had gone pale despite her tan and her own eyes had filled with compassion and concern for Tilly. She gasped. ‘That’s awful!’ and then turned to her husband. ‘What can we do, Bernard?’ Not waiting for his reply she looked back at Tilly and continued. ‘Oh, you poor thing. It’s simply dreadful. What a stupid horrid man!’

Bernard appeared thoughtful for a moment as he took one of Tilly’s hands in his own before he replied. His mouth was pursed as if in anger but he appeared calm when he spoke.

‘I’m not sure what the best course of action is. He’s probably only doing it to annoy you in a fit of pique, and he may well stop when he realizes he’s not getting anywhere. How long has this been going on?’

‘Going on? Oh for about a couple of weeks. But now, he’s coming more and more often. I can’t relax, knowing he may be lurking around outside. He frightens me,’ she gave a quiet sob and bit her lip.

‘Have you thought about telling the police?’ Ann asked, always one for action.

‘Yes. I wasn’t sure if that was a bit extreme at first. There is a police inspector that lives down the road. I wondered if he would help. But, I don’t want it to be official. That would mean the police taking him in for questioning. Surely he’s just a silly old man and I’m afraid Sonja would find out. How upsetting would that be for her? I don’t want to cause any more trouble than I already have.’

‘Okay, what about unofficially then? How well do you know the inspector?’ asked Pete.

‘So-so. He’s always polite if not particularly friendly. I’m not sure he likes us Brits much,’ Tilly gave a half-hearted smile.

‘That doesn’t matter. The important thing is you tell him. He’ll know what to do. We’ll come and give you moral support if you like,’ Pete looked at the others for confirmation. He was big and soft hearted, always a champion for females in distress.

‘Thank you. You are kind. Yes, I will have a word with him. Maybe he can warn Leslie on the quiet. Tell him to back off and stop making a nuisance of himself. That is, unless he thinks I’m being an over hysterical female,’ Tilly looked more forlorn than ever at the thought of what she had to do.

‘Don’t be downhearted. I bet he won’t think that at all. He’ll probably agree a few words will frighten the life out of Leslie. It will do him good. I’d love to see it.’ Rubbing his hands together with glee, there was a note of gloating in Bernard’s voice. ‘You contact the police and let us know the outcome. Now, the first thing is not to worry about it. I’m sure Leslie is no threat really; he’s just an arrogant bully. He’ll soon run off scared if there’s a whiff of the law onto him.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ Tilly still looked scared and depressed. Her hands restlessly pleated the tablecloth in front of her.

‘I think another glass of something my dear. Would it help if you spent the night with us? We’ve plenty of room,’ Jen asked, laying her arm around Tilly’s shoulders.

Tilly made an effort to smile before answering her. Her mind was clearly elsewhere. ‘No thank you. I’ll be fine at home. As Bernard said, Leslie’s probably no danger really. Just a big bore.’

She looked away from the others; out into the darkness beyond the warm glow from the taverna. What if the police wouldn’t help her? If they didn’t believe her, then she would have to think again. One way or another Leslie had to be stopped. Tilly had had enough. She was terrified at the thought, but she was now desperate enough to put an end to this herself....

My Own Chilli Jam Recipe. (Cool underpants required.)

To make 4-5 jars you’ll need: 2lls ripe tomatoes, 30 Thai red chillies, 12 cloves of garlic, 5 inches of fresh ginger, 6tbsp of fish sauce, 5 cups of caster sugar and  1.0 cup of red wine vinegar.

Roughly chop the tomatoes, all the chillies (with their seeds), garlic and ginger and chuck it all in a blender – I also added a couple of teaspoons of cayenne pepper for an extra kick. Whizz everything to a pulp and pour into a heavy bottomed pan. Turn on the heat, add the vinegar, sugar and fish sauce and slowly bring to the boil. Once the mixture has come to the boil, reduce to a simmer, skim off the foam that will have formed on top of the mixture, and leave it burbling away for 2 hours. Every now and then, give the mixture a vigorous stir and scrape the bottom and sides of the pan (the pectin in the tomato seeds acts as a natural thickener). Pour the hot jam into clean jars and turn upside down to create the vacuum. Once cooled, pop in the fridge and start eating it with everything! Warning! Let your guests know in advance that this will be hot!


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Authors’ Mastermind ~ Second contender ~ Tracey Alley

17/5/2011

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Good day!
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Good day to everyone and I hope your week is proving to be as good as mine is. We’ve had some fun around here; a house full of visitors from the UK has kept me on my toes, our summer swallow chicks have flown their nest and we’ve been having some amazing daily thunderstorms which are unusual for this time of year in Cyprus. Changing weather patterns?

All things literary; yesterday I posed for photographs for an article in one of the papers, and yes, I am unashamedly going to say that, The Assassins’ Village is doing fantastically well on Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk –thank you once again, you fabulous readers!

Finally, on this theme and all being well, The Assassins’ Village will be available in paperback within a month or so…I’ll let you know.

For today, I have another interesting author as my guest for Authors’ Mastermind. I do hope you enjoy her question and answer session. It’s amazing how different we all are and how we interpret our lives and why we are the way we are. Enjoy your read.

Faithx

 

Authors Mastermind: Round 1

Good evening and welcome to today’s edition of Authors’ Mastermind. My name is Faith Mortimer and I welcome tonight’s first contender. Could you please state your name and occupation?
Tracey Alley, full-time writer, part-time student.

FM.Thank you. Can you tell us your chosen subject?
TA.History of Religions

FM.Now would you please answer the following questions on your chosen subject? You have a maximum number of 250 words on each question. If you do not know the answer, say pass and we’ll move on to another question. The total number of passes will be counted and deducted against your final score. Are you ready? Good then I’ll begin.

1.            Tracey Alley how do you describe yourself; as a writer and as a person?
As a writer, hopefully a good storyteller.  As a person, hopefully a decent human being.

2.            Do you do anything that would tell us you lead an interesting or indeed a crazy life?

I have a large family and a wide and eclectic group of friends and tend to be a bit of a mother hen so I’m often in the middle of advising someone else’s dramas – for myself I like to constantly learn new things – some work out, some don’t like my recent roller blading exercise, fell flat on my behind and ended up flat on my back for three days.  I’d also love to go diving with great white sharks so I’m learning to scuba dive this winter – not sure if that’s interesting or crazy but that’s just me.

3.            Briefly, describe your journey into writing your first book and what or who inspired you?
The first full scale novel I wrote was a semi-autobiographical novel about a woman who moves to New Zealand and becomes the victim of a stalker.  Although I juiced it up a bit the stalking part actually happened and at one point I had round the clock police protection while they tried to catch him.  The story is probably very interesting but the book was very badly written.  I might go back to it one day.

4.            Are you working on anything right now? Either answer this question, or if you have no work in process, skip and go to the next question.
Yes, I have three current WIP’s, one is my series of children’s books, which I’m hoping to have published by Christmas, the other is a mystery/thriller that has been knocking around in my brain for a while now and the other is a sequel to The Witchcraft Wars fantasy series – not sure which will end up being published first.

5a. Do you ever struggle with parts of the book you’re working/writing on?
My biggest struggle is always a tendency to try for perfection; something I know I can’t achieve but I tend to keep tweaking novels long after I should’ve left them alone.

If you answered Q 4, then you next question is;

5b. What is your next book about, and where do you get your ideas from?

My next book, or at least the one that seems to be flowing the smoothest, is a mystery thriller called The Jenny Factor.  It’s about twin sisters, one of whom is a bit flaky and irresponsible so when she goes missing, the question becomes; is she in trouble or just off on one of her many adventures.  Her sister, Beth, is convinced that Jenny is in trouble but has great difficulties getting anyone to take her seriously because of ‘the Jenny factor’.  It’s coming to me remarkably easily and I love the characters.

6.            How would you define your writing, working day? Give us some indication of where you work, and the length of time you spend on your project.

I have a wonderfully decked out study with bookcases full of reference material, books and journals etc. that I might need.  It’s at the back of my house so it’s quiet and my desk faces a blank wall – I find that easier to use, as a way to see the book I’m writing unfolding.  I tend to write in the mornings for about four hours, take a break and then write for four to six hours at night.  It’s hard to have a truly defined schedule though as if the story is really flowing I tend to break only to stretch my back or get more coffee. (Tracey laughs).

7.            Tell us about characterisation. How do you develop your characters? Do you feel they are important in the overall picture? Do you ever base them on real people?

Characterisation is critical, without believable characters the whole story, no matter how good becomes worthless.  Often my characters just come to me, almost like a little voice in my head that grows into a fully-fledged character and they tend to come before I’ve conceptualized the story so I feel they are extremely important in the overall picture.  To me, basically, a story is about a group of characters and something that happens to them – the characters are the story.  Yes I have, very loosely, based them on real people but I’m pleased so say that no one, yet, has ever recognized themselves.

8.            What about the editing and redrafting process? When do you do this?

That’s partially done as I go along, I’ll write several thousand words and then go back and make sure they’re working for the way the story is developing.  I also do a redraft and edit when I’m finished – checking for continuity, any plot holes etc.  Then once I hand the MS over to my editor, comes the final draft, last editing and a final read through where I do a little more tweaking to make it as good as possible.

9.            How have you overcome any trials and tribulations of rejection?

I consider that I’ve been exceedingly lucky, while I have enough rejection slips to wallpaper my house I believe I’ve learned from every one of them.  I’ve also been very fortunate to receive some genuine feedback as well as stock rejection slips so that has helped enormously.

10.          If you were not writing, what would be your choice of employment?

That’s a tough one; I can’t imagine not writing, even if I weren’t published.  I worked in administration for many years and tried my hand at teaching but I believe I was born to write so I’m fortunate that I can.

Thank you. Your score on your chosen subject is 9. You answered 5a as well as question 4, so I’m afraid you lose 1 mark. A very good effort.

Now for the General Knowledge section.

1.            Which book(s) are you reading at the moment?

Ben Elton’s ‘Past Mortem’, Elaine Pagels ‘The Gnostic Gospels’ [again], Joann Fletcher’s ‘The Egyptian Book of Living and Dying’

2.            Name your five favourite authors.

Terry Pratchett, Katharine Kerr, Ben Elton, Douglas Adams, Kim Wilkins

3.            Who, out of your five favourite people would you like to invite to dinner at your house. You will be doing the catering. What is your ideal menu, you would provide? (You must be able to cook this!)

I’d like to invite Muhammad Ali, Gandhi, Akhenaton, Terry Pratchett, and Marilyn Monroe.  I’m not a fabulous cook so I’d probably start with salt and pepper Calamari, and then make my famous French Roast Chicken with vegetables – the secret is in the French Mustard, bacon and corn stuffing. Dessert would be chocolate mousse with cream – it’s the only dessert I know how to make.

4.            Do any authors inspire you? If so, which ones?

I think the two authors that have inspired me the most are Terry Pratchett, his satirical view of the world and smooth writing style are incredibly easy to read yet slip in a moral lesson with the reader barely noticing.  The other would be Agatha Christie; her characters were so three dimensional, flaws and all, that the stories themselves seemed alive. (Good answer, as I write in an Agatha Christie style. FM).

5.            What things in your life would you love to do that you haven’t yet achieved. Your answer should NOT be ‘become a rich and famous author’. If you fall back on this answer, then 3 marks will be deducted from your overall score.

I’d love to learn to scuba dive and go diving with great white sharks, love to learn photography and would love, love, love to go to Egypt.

6. Describe your ideal day; working and leisure (only clean answers please).

7. What has been the most memorable thing that has happened to you in a, your writing career and b, in your private life (again, only cleans answers will be accepted).

8. Are you a disciplined person in everyday life? How would/does this reflect in your writing?

I’ve never really been a disciplined person as such, I’m much more fly by the seat of my pants but I do have a form of organized chaos.  I understand it even if no one else does.

9.            Do you keep a dart-board handy with rejection letters from Publishing House editors’ photographs pinned to it? If so, what is your highest score?

No dart board.  I do have an ‘inspirational’ board that has quotes, sayings or little reminders of the things I want to do and the person I want to be.

10.          What are your five desert island books?

Very tough one.  Probably ‘Soul Music’ by Terry Pratchett, ‘Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy – Omnibus edition [cheating a little there], the Bible, ‘Complete Works of William Shakespeare’ [another small cheat but I do keep meaning to read them all again], Cyril Aldred’s ‘Akhenaton’

Tie-breaker question. Tell us the most outrageous/embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you. What were the consequences? A bonus of 5 extra points will be awarded to the best answer from contenders to the Authors Mastermind Crown.

On my honeymoon my husband and I decided to go skinny dipping in the early hours of the morning.  It was a smallish hotel and we didn’t expect that there would be anyone around.  We also forgot to bring towels – having gotten used to the beach towels being handily placed on the banana lounges by the pool during the day.  We were both very young and one thing led to another until a sudden cough announced the presence of the hotel manager.  Fortunately it was dark so my bright red countenance couldn’t be seen although the rest of me was as I made a dive for my clothes.  These days I’m much more careful where I go skinny dipping (Tracey laughs).

Thank you. Your time is now up. You managed to complete 8 questions with 2 passes as you ignored questions number six and seven.

Your overall score is 17. You are now tying with last week’s contender, Sarah Barnard, who unfortunately did not complete the tiebreaker question, so on point aggregate you will be one place higher. Well done and we shall see how you do against the other contenders.

Thank you.


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Another week and flying high!

14/5/2011

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Good Day.
Another week gone by - it doesn't seem like five minutes ago that the World watched the Royal Wedding, Osama bin Laden was captured and killed and Spain suffered their worst Earthquake in years. All World events of huge interest - and for different reasons.

It seems that time really does fly  when you're busy. Lots of flying here this week, our swallows are leaving their nest with  frantic little wings fluttering as the chicks teeter on the edge before launching themselves out into the blue skies. Fabulous to watch, so long as we keep the cats indoors!
And talking of flying The Assassins' Village continues to fly up Amazon's charts. Number 11 onAmazon.co.uk in new releases, best reviews in the Mystery and thrillers section and number 25 on the Amazon.com site. I am thrilled and it's all down to you, Dear Reader. Thank you for your splendid support in buying my book.

This week I have posted chapter 2 for you to take a look at. It's  generally setting the scene and leading up to a murder - enjoy your read and have a great forthcoming week.

Chapter 2. The same evening

Speak if you can. What are you?                Macbeth. Act 1 Scene 3

 Diana noticed Leslie gingerly holding his script away from him as if he did not want to touch it.
Everyone fell silent. He stood up and strode over to where Alicia was sitting at one of the taverna tables. She was writing some notes before Leslie made his rude and noisy interruption. Leslie towered over her, glaring down.
Despite his age he was a man to be reckoned with. He possessed classic good looks with fine bone structure despite a slight fleshing in the face. Leslie was of medium height with a trim, muscular body, and still carried a full head of steel-grey hair. With pale, icy blue eyes to match he looked Teutonic. With a great flourish he tossed his script down in front of her. It fell open at the page he had been glancing at.
‘You have a very peculiar sense of humour I must say. This is the final straw. I don’t know if I can be bothered, this whole thing is going to be a sham. Honestly, Alicia. I thought you had better judgment but your decision is just too pathetic for words. Typical of a woman! I think you’ve finally lost it. Anyway you’ll be very sorry, you wait and see.’

From where she sat Diana took a sneaky peek at Leslie’s script. With some bewilderment she thought that the opened pages were blackened out. Blinking, and focusing properly, Diana realised that in fact they were not black but red. Blood red. The pages appeared to be seeped in what looked like shining wet blood. ‘What on earth?’ she said to herself. ‘Was she seeing things or was this some macabre joke?
Seconds later, the sun disappeared behind a lone cloud in the sky. A sudden breeze rippled through the trees behind them, and a small flight of bats veered and swooped with disturbed, shrill squeaks upon the party gathered on the terrace.
Away upon the hill, the church bell rang out its miserable dull tone. The sound echoed around the empty forlorn buildings, peculiar, as there was no service this evening, and therefore no reason for its sombre tolling. As if in sympathy to this incongruity, the breeze turned into an unseasonable chill wind that swirled along the paths and around the corners.
 Startled, Diana jumped up and looked round her. The branches of the trees silhouetted against the hillside swayed and rustled, a whisper running through the canopy. A shiver tingled down her spine. She could have sworn she had heard something up there. It was something like a shrill cry then a low chant. But staring into the gloom, the space between the trees remained as empty as when they had all first arrived. Feeling silly, she returned to her seat.
You’re seeing things and hearing things, pages covered with blood and spooky sounds, she thought. Next time it’ll be goblins. For goodness sake get a grip on yourself and stop letting your imagination run away with you.
It was strange though, this was not the first time she had felt something here. Almost like a presence. She felt a little giddy as a small wave of nausea washed over her. Her palms broke out in sweat and her heart thudded in her chest.
Perhaps Steve was right and she had been doing too much lately. He’d been nagging at her to take it easier.
‘Your health is beginning to worry me. Can’t you slow down and take it easier, Diana darling?’ he’d said more than once.

Diane sighed.  He really was such a softie. But she was glad he cared and wouldn’t have changed him for anything. But how could she take it easier?  After her conversation the other evening with Ann, she’d already decided a change of genre would be exciting for her next novel. Up until now her subject was historical fiction.
During the cast party while she and Ann stood off to one side chatting, Diana had watched and studied the various members gathered. ‘You know it’s time I wrote another book,’ she said dreamily gesturing with her hand. ‘Something compels me to. Look at this scene before us.’

 Puzzled, Ann turned and looked at her, not understanding her gesture. She frowned and tilted her head to one side. ‘Sorry? You’ve lost me.’

‘All these people gathered here, and the setting so romantic, or even dramatic. I know it’s been done before, but surely the whole scene lends itself to something. Look, all around us are people, all different in age, nationality and class. Yes, there’s still a class structure despite what they say. These people are brought together for the production of the play. Here, we act together; we almost live in the same village. For the duration we cannot get away from each other until it’s all over. Then, we part, and go back to our other lives. The outsiders, perhaps we’ll never see again. The play kept us all as one.’

‘Well, apart from the play what else could bring us together then?’ asked Ann.

‘Apart from another play, you mean? I don’t know, a calamity possibly, or a strange or bizarre happening perhaps. I’d have to think about it,’ she broke off musing it over to herself.

Ann gave her a knowing smile, ‘Well, you’re the one with the writer’s imagination.’

Diana grinned back. ‘Something will come to me eventually, even if I have to write something completely different.’

Ann looked interested. ‘Really? What about a murder or a mystery?’

‘Ye-es there could be something there. A group already together, suspects in the making. There are enough weird and flamboyant characters to choose from to be the victim or the perpetrator.’

‘He would have to be evil.’

‘He?’ Diana queried her with a smile.

‘Well, it could of course be a she, as long as they’re horribly evil. The murderer I mean,’ she was warming to the theme. ‘Like in the Scottish play, you know, ‘Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen.’

Diana laughed. ‘Of course, I’ll give it some thought. My agent is breathing down my neck for me to write another novel. I’ve had my time off apparently,’ she grinned ruefully at Ann. ‘I do want to get back into it. But you’re right; it would need an evil person to portray as my murderer. Somebody the readers would love to hate.’

Ann looked back steadily at her for a moment before she replied. ‘Well there’s enough material around to give you some good grounding, and you’ve already noticed a few of the people from here are very weird. I bet Leslie’s right. They all have some dark secret or other to hide. I can even tell you a few stories I’ve heard myself. Not now, there isn’t time. We’ll do it over coffee one morning…’

                                                                                            ~~~

…Diana shook her head. How on earth could she have drifted off thinking about the other night? She felt really strange and fuzzy. It took a strong will to turn her attention back to the present and Leslie.
 Amazed, she found he’d already turned on his heel and was stalking away from the startled group. There was a stunned silence as they all sat open-mouthed at his rude departure. One by one they turned to each other, disbelief etched on their faces and not believing what they had just heard. Embarrassed, they looked at the stricken face of Alicia. Her freckles stood out like a hectic rash upon her face and throat. Blinking and flushed; as an ugly red stain crept up her neck and across her cheeks.
Diana felt sorry for Alicia as she obviously struggled to keep her composure.

Alicia looked up from the script that Leslie had just thrust at her, confusion clouding her features.

She took a gulp. ‘I don’t understand. I only wanted to try something new. Leslie was well aware I was going to make this production contemporary.  I don’t see what’s wrong in setting the play in the present and making the cast into modern armies. Guns and army fatigues would make a fine change from medieval costume, ‘she paused then continued shakily. ‘I’m sure he’ll see reason once he calms down.’

‘He was bloody rude and arrogant to boot,’ stormed a male member shaking his head in anger. ‘I think you did very well not to have had a stand up row. If it had been me, I’d have bloody well thumped him. ’

‘Well, that’s not my thing, Bernard. Anyway, I’m only relieved he threw a wobbly now and not at some later crucial stage. At least we have plenty of time to plan around him if necessary. It is important that everyone takes part in this production. We want to put our theatre group of Agios Mamas firmly and right with the rest of the Cyprus theatre scene. We have this splendid opportunity with our own open-air amphitheatre so let’s take it. I’m not going to be put off by a minor irritation like Leslie.’

 She paused, and then in a firmer but soft voice spoke to herself. Only Diana, who was nearest to her, heard the venom in her words. ‘No. This time he’s not going to be allowed to upset any of my plans.’

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Author Mastermind ~ Contender: Sarah Barnard

12/5/2011

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Good Day and welcome to Authors Interviews with a difference. Over the next few weeks I shall be welcoming different authors to my blog and seeing how they perform against others. Enjoy the fun!
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Authors Mastermind: Round 1

Good evening and welcome to tonight’s edition of Authors’ Mastermind. My name is Faith Mortimer and as Mastermind’s host I welcome tonight’s first contender. Could you please state your name and occupation?

 Sarah Barnard and I’m a certified lunatic…. Erm, I mean, I’m a writer and publisher.  Thank you.

FM. Now, can you tell us your chosen subject?

 SB. Me, my imaginary friends and the writing process that created them.

FM. Thank you. Now would you please answer the following questions on your chosen subject. You have a maximum number of 250 words on each question. If you do not know the answer, say pass and we’ll move on to another question. The total number of passes will be counted and deducted against your final score. Are you ready? (SB nods). Good then I’ll begin.

1. Sarah Barnard, how do you describe yourself; as a writer and as a person?

I try not to… I’d rather leave that sort of describing to others.But if pushed I’d say I’m someone who can’t just stay in the normal and every day. I love playing with ideas, taking that extra step into a fantasy world. It’s who and how I am, both as a person and as a writer. I’ve always played with ideas, with words, made things up, had imaginary friends and played in imaginary worlds. What’s the point of an imaginary world that’s just the same as this one? If you’re going to imagine a new and different world then why not have fun and make it special?I’m green, but the shade varies depending on what my life is doing and who you talk to. I like my modern life, my car and my broadband connection, but also love my garden, home grown veg and my chickens and I do worry about the effect we humans are having on our beautiful Earth. That tends to be reflected in my writing as well. On more mundane notes I’m a single mother with 2 rapidly growing, and demanding children. Oh, and I don’t tend to actually “write” as such, I prefer to type… But when I do write it’s with a proper fountain pen with an assortment of coloured ink, but usually the blackest black.

2. Do you do anything that would tell us you lead an interesting or indeed a crazy life?

That depends on your definition of “crazy”! I keep 3 hens in my garden, is that interesting, or crazy? I choose to stay single and I’m happy that way. I knit. Does that count? I’m a Downsizer, now that has certainly been called interesting and crazy, as well as inspirational. I suspect that I own more material things that I’ve swapped, bartered or acquired than I’ve paid money for – if you don’t count food, and even there the hens gift us with eggs every day and I grow some of the fruit and veg we eat. Downsizing is a way of redressing the work/life balance and for me that’s meant giving up a “proper” day job and running my own business from home so I can be here for my kids. I have no commute, no boss telling me what to do and the freedom is amazing. But the thing that gets me the most sideways glances is that I refer to my characters as real people, as if they’re friends who I’ve just not seen for a while. “I’m playing with Lily today.” Is often the answer to “What are you up to?”  I know I’m not alone with this, other writers do it too, but friends who are not writers do tend to give me odd looks when I’m in mid flow and my head is stuck in my own little world.

3. Briefly, describe your journey into writing, your first book, and what or who inspired you.

I started writing when I first picked up a pencil and worked out that it could make words…. At some point between then and when I was in my 30s I somehow never got round to actually finishing anything. Then my life turned upside down when a 17 year relationship ended and from the turmoil that caused, and with the support of one of my best friends, I was drawn into writing more constructively. She got me writing in tandem with her first and I loved it. It was intense and just the distraction I needed. As November approached that year, and the evenings drew in and Christmas was getting closer and I was an emotional mess, she dragged me, kicking and screaming, into the NaNoWriMo challenge.  (It’s where you challenge yourself to write 50,000 words in 30 days) She helped, challenged and ultimately dared me to do it. There, from the madness that is NaNoWriMo, The Portal Between was born and for the first time in my life, I finished a WHOLE book! What a rush that was.  Well, I say finished a book, I succeeded in the challenge and at the end of November I just didn’t stop. But I did eventually finish the book, only to realise that the story wasn’t over and Sam, Kate and Lily wouldn’t let me stop there. 

4. Are you working on anything right now? (Either pass on this question or give an answer). If you do pass then your next question is 5a:

Yes! I’m always working on something. I have a large file on my PC with scenes, notes, characters, bits of half started stories…. If I don’t have a planned project on the go then I pull one of those out and add to it and eventually those documents may find their way into a book. Right now I’m editing and polishing the final Portal series book, Child of the Portal and I’m planning on that being released on Amazon kindle in time for Summer Solstice – Midsummer/ June 21st.  Child of the Portal brings the Portal series to a close although there is the potential for more if I ever feel inclined to revisit that world. Behind that I have a new character to play with. Sage is here in 2 forms at the moment and telling her story in snatches and chunks that I’ll need to patch together eventually. I have her as an 18 year old tearaway who has just crashed a stolen car in a field and been rescued by aliens. Then I have her in her mid-30s and saving the world with a space faring car and loads of alien gadgetry. She’s lots of fun. At the moment I’m just writing bits as they come to me and hoping that some sort of book length story will emerge in time.

5a. Do you ever struggle with parts of the book you’re working/writing on?

Oh yes! I stall at around 28,000 words, every single time. No idea why but at that point I often abandon projects and let them stagnate. I struggled with both the major character deaths in Child of the Portal and it took me months to get past those and write the rest of the tale.Oh, I wasn’t meant to be answering that was I? Never mind….

If you answered Q 4, then you next question is;

5b. What is your next book about, and where do you get your ideas from?

Child of the Portal tells Susan’s story more than anyone else. It’s Lily’s turn to struggle and learn to let go, to be challenged and lose her grip on the control she’s had.  But in many ways it’s Susan’s story and tells how she copes with her own emerging magic and the responsibility it brings. It’s her choices and her growing away from the role she is pushed into and she has to do it all while grieving for her mother.

In Child of the Portal I found myself exploring the shock of grief after an unexpected death and the way it never really goes away, but it sneaks up and slaps you round the back of the head when you least expect it. But it’s not a dark or unhappy book, there’s celebration and healing in there too and a definite feeling of peace, calm and closure at the end of the last page. My ideas come from all over the place. Inspiration can strike at any moment from the shape of a cloud, the sound of a stream, something said, something half seen from the corner of your eye.

6. How would you define your writing working day? Give us some indication of where you work, and the length of time you spend on your project.

My writing days have no definition really. I write when I feel the plot and story flowing, and sometimes when it’s not. I write during the day, in the evening and late at night. I write in between hanging the washing out, doing the garden, housework, cooking…. And I always, always have a notebook and pen with me if I’m out of the house for more than about half an hour. My writing space is cluttered and messy, piled with 4 unfinished knitting projects, a half packet of headache pills, a stack of books and several pots of pens, pencils and knitting needles. It’s also surrounded by pictures that my kids or I drew, and has a radio that’s almost always on. There’s a window that looks onto my garden and I can just see my hens from where I sit. My PC is always connected to the internet and I flit between writing, promoting, and facebook, twitter, Amazon….. Lots of procrastinating goes on. How long on a project? Anywhere from 28 days to several years. It depends on the story, on the time of year, the colour of my socks and how much tea and chocolate I’ve had.  I’ve finished the first draft of a story in 28 days, that’s the fastest I’ve ever done. But others have taken a year or more.

7. Tell us about characterisation. How do you develop your characters? Do you feel they are important in the overall picture? Do you ever base them on real people?

What do you mean “base them on real people”? My characters are all real people, who happen to live in my head… Yes, I base aspects of some of them on real people. But each character is their own person, unique even if certain friends of mine will recognise themselves now and then.  I let my characters develop themselves really, I guide and throw situations at them and then see how it all works out. I love it when a character takes over and drives a story unexpectedly. In my Portal books, Lily was originally created purely because Kate needed someone to look after the kids when she went to help Sam come home. But as I was writing those first scenes, Lily said some things that just felt odd, there was something more there and I was intrigued at what was coming up through my subconscious. She just took over and became the focus for the whole thing. If a character is interesting then they carry the whole story, they’re vital to the reader and act as the intermediary, explaining and showing this wonderfully strange world you’ve entered when you began to read a book. Love them or hate them, that central character or those characters are, your window into their world. They are your guides, your guardians; they show you how things work.

8. What about the editing and redrafting process? When do you do this?

Editing? **shudder** I put it off as long as possible. I find it works best for me if I do an almost immediate reread as soon as I finish that first draft and then file it away for at least a month before reading through again and only then do I send it out to the first round of test readers and at that point I take a complete writing break. Then when it comes back I do the edits, very very slowly. I hate editing.

9. How have you overcome any trials and tribulations of rejection?

It’s not a trial or tribulation really, is it? It’s just one person’s opinion and unless the rejection is particularly personally vitriolic then I just brush them off. If we, as writers, took every rejection letter to heart then we’d give up. We have to believe that our work, our words are better than that and whoever it was who said “No thanks” are missing out on our talent. It’s not a rejection of me, or my books, it’s just a “not for us at this moment in time” or possibly a “this isn’t our kind of book” It’s not a big deal, there are other routes.

10. If you were not writing, what would be your choice of employment?

Not writing? I can’t conceive of a time where I’d not be writing. Not now.  Even if I were employed then I’d still be writing, just not in the same way.  I’d fit it in somewhere. As for my choice of employment, I have no idea. I’ve been self-employed for 8 years now and I don’t want to change that.

Thank you. Your score on your chosen subject is 9. I’m afraid you lost 1 mark as you didn’t read the question and answered one question too many, but a fine score so far.

Now for the General Knowledge section.

1. Which book(s) are you reading at the moment?

I suppose reading through my own books for continuity checks doesn’t count?  Ah well…I just finished Tess Gerritsen’s The Killing Place and started on Mel Comley’s Final Justice. I generally have one paper book by my bed and at least 2 in mid read on my kindle.

2. Name your five favourite authors.

Oh there are so many…. I adore Robin Hobb’s Six Duchies series, all 12 books so far.  Anne McCaffrey’s Pern books, and the Tower and the Hive too. Julian May’s Saga of the Exiles and the associated Intervention books too. Harry Potter is another set I read over and over again like revisiting an old friend – and I can’t wait for the last film. Tess Gerritsen’s Isles and Rizzoli stories are great as well. Then there are all the independent authors I’m meeting as my own writing journey progresses.  Mel Comley is a surprising one, as I don’t normally like straight police drama but her Justice books have me gripped. Oh, that’s six… I can’t pick just 5, sorry.

3. Who, out of your five favourite people would you like to invite to dinner at your house. You will be doing the catering. What is your ideal menu, you would provide? (You must be able to cook this!)

Do you mean the 5 from the previous question? Or any other 5 favourite people?  Real people who might actually come to my house? Or not? And does “cooking” include walking round to the take out Chinese round the corner? Oh the dilemma…. Yeah, ok, the procrastination. I’m not an adventurous cook but I do pasta with a smooth tomato and veg sauce well – served with a salad and garlic bread, and there’s a fab apple pudding that comes from Ree Drummond’s Pioneer Woman blog that is just divine and so easy to make. Serve with either cream or ice cream and it’s sooo rich.Oh, but a dinner guest? Hmm, can I invite Emma Thompson please? Or my best friend, Kris? Or Kerry, or Gillian Anderson…. Or all of them?

4. Do any authors inspire you? If so, which ones?

I admire a great many authors. But to say any of them inspire me? I’m not sure. I think the story of JK Rowling has inspired me for sure. She was a single mum, like me, living in a similar situation to me at the moment and that is inspiration enough to say that if she can do it then there’s nothing to stop me either.

5. What things in your life would you love to do that you haven’t yet achieved. Your answer should NOT be ‘become a rich and famous author’. If you fall back on this answer, then 3 marks will be deducted from your overall score.

I’d love to go to New Zealand, and Canada. Both are places that I’d love to see one day. I want to drive a hybrid or electric car, I’d love to own one too but a test drive will do for starters. I’d love to be able to buy a car straight from brand new, with only delivery mileage, so no-one has driven it before me. I really, really want, one day, to help design my own home and have it built. It would be set in some land where I could raise hens for both meat and eggs, have a couple of pigs, a huge greenhouse and plenty of space for a small orchard too. It would be eco-friendly, self-sufficient and also have a very tall wall round it.

6. Describe your ideal day; working and leisure (only clean answers please).

The sun is shining, but not too baking hot so there’s a cool breeze and the garden is lush and green. The words are flowing and I am writing in long bursts with no interruptions (so Facebook is probably down for maintenance or something). My hens are clucking gently in the background, along with the other birds that frequent my garden – but I’ll cut out the traffic noise from my ideal day. To be perfect I’ll have to shift my location to somewhere close to either woodland or the sea, or both. So, with the parts above, I’m also in a wood floored house, sitting at an oak desk, writing away with the windows open and the sound of the sea just audible through the sound of the breeze in the trees. In the fridge there is chilled fruit juice, a simple mixed salad with Greek feta cheese, some crusty bread on the side somewhere – preferably freshly baked so the smell is wafting through the house too. I won’t be up early, rising around 10am for a leisurely breakfast, that salad for lunch and I’ll think about dinner later. In between writing bursts I’ll be wandering round my garden, a bit of weeding, a chat with my hens. Then much later on, I’ll enjoy sitting outside in a still warm evening, watching bats fly. With that much peace and quiet I’m assuming my kids are out, probably away for the weekend.

7. What has been the most memorable thing that has happened to you in a, your writing career and b, in your private life (again, only clean answers will be accepted).

B first. In my personal life, the most memorable, life changing thing is having my kids. Trite, I know, but it really is. It’s a wonderful thing to grow a new life within your own body and then bring it forth and hold and love that child. A. In my writing career? Finishing that first book, publishing it and holding that first print copy in my hands. Incredible.

8. Are you a disciplined person in everyday life? How would/does this reflect in your writing?

Disciplined? I can barely spell it…. No, not in the least disciplined, but from the chaos does come form so there must be something working there. I’ve been described as driven, much focused. So, maybe there’s a kind of discipline there.

9. Do you keep a dart-board handy with rejection letters from Publishing House editors’ photographs pinned to it? If so, what is your highest score?

No. I don’t have a dart board, but I do have a folder with the rejection letters in, for reference more than anything. If I want to try querying agents and publishers again one day I want a record of who I’ve tried before, and with which book.

10. What are your five desert island books?

I suppose 5 very thick notebooks don’t count? I can get ink from local squid or something? No? Ah well… worth a try.How about one of the Sherlock Holmes volumes, a compendium of Anita Blake stories, and the last Six Duchies book – Fool’s Fate, and, umm, can’t I just take my kindle and a solar charger? No? OK, that’s 3 – yes, it’s just 3. You said books, not stories. Two left.  I’ll get all practical and take a couple of books on survival please – one about shelter, finding water, medicinal plants, that sort of thing, and one on raising your own food – appropriate to the climate of the desert island.

Tie-breaker question. Tell us the most outrageous/embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you. What were the consequences? A bonus of 5 extra points will be awarded to the best answer from contenders to the Authors Mastermind Crown.

Um, no, I pass. You can use your imaginations…

Thank you. Your time is now up. You managed to complete 20 questions with no passes.  You failed on 3 questions; In section A you answered 1 question too many. In General Knowledge you failed on 2  questions– you gave 1 too many authors and you invited only 4 people to dinner.
Your overall score is 17. We shall see how you do against the other contenders.

Well done Sarah Barnard and thank you.


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PRESS RELEASE FOR THE ASSASSINS' VILLAGE

8/5/2011

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I was quite excited when I saw the press release proof for, The Assassins' Village, as it was something I had instigated myself. With my first book, The Crossing, my publisher handled the whole affair and as a consequence I had no idea how the book was being received, apart from some jolly good sales of course!

Today, The Assassins' Village has been released to the press far and wide, and with Google Alert I am already getting response at first-hand.

If you wish to read the press review then please go to the Press Release page on this site.

AND, Yesterday, was an amazing day! I saw The Assassins' Village climb on both Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk to the lofty positions of 31 and 25 respectively in the category of new released books, crime and thriller, mystery! And today they're still there. Yahoo!

Can I take this opportunity to thank everyone who has taken the trouble to buy, read and comment on The Assassins' Village. Without you, Dear Reader, I wouldn't be sitting here with a big smile on my face and loving it! Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Faithx
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Thirteen days of ups and downs.

7/5/2011

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Good Day!
Well, it's been thirteen good days since the publication of The Assassins' Village and we've had some exciting moments. I have to say sales have been tremendous and the reviews received are simply fantastic. Thank you to all of you who've read the book and taken the trouble to write a favourable comment on Amazon. So far - fingers crossed - we are 100% with a full house of 5*****!
The only downside is no sales from the German market -  yet. And as one fan said last week, 'They don't know what they're missing!'
Praise indeed.
This Sunday I have posted Chapter 1 for your perusal. It is one of the longer chapters of the book and I beg your indulgence - but it does set the scene nicely and introduces a fair number of the cast. So here goes... enjoy it!
Faith Mortimer

Act 1.

Chapter One. The previous Tuesday evening. 24th August

Were such things here as we do speak about? Or have we eaten on the insane root that takes the reason prisoner? Macbeth. Act 1 Scene 3

Alicia stood in front of the hallway mirror. A freckled face, pale and thin, stared back at her. Smoothing back her unruly red hair she heard the deep tone from the old clock striking in the hall. The sound echoed along the hallway and into the living room beyond. Alicia counted the chimes. Seven o’clock! Time to go. Swiftly, she gathered up the sheaf of scripts for the forthcoming play reading, tucked the bundle under her arm and threw open her front door. The evening’s sweet scent from a frangipani tree reached her and she took a few seconds to steady herself before closing the door behind her.
She was going to be late. It was a nuisance; she needed to compose herself. It was important to be in control. Especially tonight as she intended to instigate the first of her carefully laid plans. He would not get away with it.
 Alicia told herself, keep calm. The walk would take just a few minutes if she passed through the church grounds. Crunching up the jagged stone steps Alicia glanced at the Greek Orthodox Church that gave its name to the village; Agios Mamas. It loomed in front of her, large, rectangular and faced in the local pale-coloured sandstone. The Church had been rebuilt in 1860 after the earthquake that had shaken its original foundations. Now, it served its purpose well. Its regular congregation of mostly black-clad old ladies was swelled on Saints’ days with visiting families. She imagined the rows of dutiful women as they sat nodding in the back of the church, surrounded by the heady smell of incense and candles. Alicia was not one of the worshippers. Her faith and allegiance belonged to another deity altogether. Something she rarely mentioned to anyone who knew her, and if she did then it was with complete reticence. The New Woman World Alliance was secretive in its ministry to outsiders. When questioned about the order, Alicia remained tight-lipped about its overall aims and functionality. Only once had she made the mistake of letting someone know its secrets.
 Years ago, when she was an art student on a year’s sabbatical she had journeyed through Pakistan, India, and far up into Bhutan and beyond.  Somewhere in the wild and arid hills she strayed into a sect different from anything else she had known. Feeling compelled to stay; she had been indoctrinated with its scriptures. Forgetting her people back home in Ireland Alicia turned her back on her College education as she took up the narrow life the sect demanded of her. To this day she remained committed. And because of this commitment she had to stop Leslie and his vile threats.
Alicia walked down the path to the road that wound its way around the hillside eventually leading to the rehearsal venue. The sun’s rays slanted down through the half- ruined buildings, casting long purple shadows in the broken darkened doorways and windows. Tumbledown houses mixed in with the renovated stone works, a startling blend of courtyards, paths, Venetian arches, and gardens drenched with flowers, all behind a jumble of walls.

The air smelt of over-ripened grapes and she could hear the low drone from the wasps as they buzzed in the overhead vines. Swallows and doves fluttered in the soft evening sunshine before disappearing into the gaping holes of the empty dwellings. It could have been creepy, but Alicia never found it so. She loved the solitude in the labyrinth of the deserted houses that stood in quiet sentinel before those still inhabited. It suited her covert nature. A flight of pigeons made her pause. They swooped down from their high roost in an empty two-storied house. Alicia felt the beating of their wings as they swarmed around her; faltering, fluttering, a renewing of position before they made off down the valley.
At the end of the cobbled path she caught up with Yanoulla picking her way down the rough slope. Alerted by footsteps behind her, Yanoulla turned to greet Alicia.
‘Alicia. Kalispera. How are you?’

The slim, blonde Cypriot woman fell in beside Alicia. She was a few years older than the Irish woman and it was noticeable. She was plain, ugly even; her large nose dominated and spoiled her face. Tonight she looked weary, despite the pleasant smile.
‘And good evening to you, Yanoulla. I am well and you?’

‘Yes, thank you. Are you excited about tonight?’

They rounded the corner catching sight of the open-air theatre. Alicia’s heart gave a lurch. Village and town theatres were all very well, but the thought of directing Shakespeare at the amphitheatre always filled her with an excited inner glow. The villagers were fortunate having been awarded a grant from the European Union to build their own theatre and Alicia was determined to make this production her best.
‘Oh yes. I always like beginning new plays, especially Shakespeare. This year we have the makings of a very good cast. I hope everyone will agree with my final choice.’ As she spoke she knew she would have trouble. There was always one or two who would disagree with anything. They had already had their inaugural committee meeting and the cast auditions. Most roles had been cast and agreed a week ago. However, as director she had the final decision, and had decided to make a couple of changes. Well, she would address that if and when the problem arose.
‘I too am looking forward to this year. Making costumes is a lot of fun and I love the challenge.’ Yanoulla was an expert with her needle and in the past Alicia had been indebted to her. Apart from her sewing, Yanoulla had introduced Kristiakis to the group. His huge physique was an asset when building wonderful stage sets.
Reaching the bottom steps of the amphitheatre they said hello to the members already gathered; lounging and chatting on the stone steps; enjoying the evening sunshine.

A tall dark Cypriot man was sitting by himself near the top. He rose to his feet and approached the two women. After a brief nod to Alicia he took Yanoulla to one side and rapidly addressed her in Greek. Yanoulla’s face grew still as she listened to her lover. When he had finished talking, Yanoulla replied in the same language. Alicia’s Greek was nowhere near perfect but she knew enough to understand a lovers’ tiff when she heard one.
Shaking his head, Kristiakis took a look at his watch. Without another word he left an angry looking Yanoulla and bounded back up the steps and out of the theatre.
Turning to Alicia, Yanoulla looked furious and miserable; white-lipped. Alicia raised her eyebrows in question, waiting for an explanation.
‘I am sorry, Alicia, but, Kristiakis cannot be here for tonight’s casting. He has to go to Limassol. He is –’ she paused, unsure how much to tell her.

Alicia had clearly heard the name Marina mentioned in their conversation and could guess that the predatory Krisitakis had other and better things to do that night. She sought to spare Yanoulla’s embarrassment, as she liked the Cypriot woman.
‘Never mind, it’s not important that he can’t make tonight. You can fill him in later. Come and sit with me at the top of the steps.’ She gave her a smile of encouragement.
Yanoulla shook her head and turned away; her face flaming. She sat down, a pensive, worried look upon her face. ‘Thank you, Alicia, but I’ll stay here for a moment. I’ll join you in a minute.’ Her accented voice was heavy with disappointment.

Alicia knew Kristiakis reputation well. He’d always been a womaniser and he would never change. It was probably why he was still single. She couldn’t see their relationship lasting. She nodded her understanding.
 Kristiakis and Yanoulla were the only Greek Cypriots belonging to the group. At first Kristiakis had been reluctant to involve himself with any expats; especially the British, it was Yanoulla who had persuaded him to help backstage.  Yanoulla was at least ten years older than the single Kristiakis and Alicia failed to see what Kristiakis could see in her. Alicia was secretly peeved that an older woman could attract a man so sexy and handsome. Kristiakis was a man wrapped in an aura of mystery. Dark tales of his youth followed him concerning his impetuous involvement with the guerrilla organization EOKA. Whispered stories passed down between the older locals, somehow never managed to translate into a comprehensive history for the expatriate community. Of course, embellished anecdotes made it impossible to tell what was genuine. Whatever the truth, Kristiakis was locally known as “Kristiakis the Bomber”.

Leaving a sour-faced Yanoulla, Alicia made her way over to a group of three people.

Lolling on a step was Tony; hopefully sober this evening with his mind in focus for once.
 He had made a disgusting spectacle of himself the other night at the annual cast party. The other two with him were Ann and her neighbour Diana. As Alicia neared them, she heard Tony plaintively whining an apology to Ann.
‘I can only repeat what I’ve already said, Ann. Look! I am sorry for ruining your new shoes. If you want to give me the bill I’ll happily replace them. I don’t know what came over me.’

Ann looked nearly as cross as when she first saw her new white shoes being destroyed. She drew her matronly chest up with indignation and launched into him with a tirade. ‘For God’s sake Tony! You’ve got to start to get a grip of yourself. No, no there’s no point in apologising now. This isn’t the first time you’ve over done the alcohol and acted like a complete and utter tosser.’ Sixty-something and a northerner, she was renowned for not standing any nonsense and when angered her northern accent was even more pronounced. ‘What’s more you’re a bloody mess. You need to clean up your act.’

 She waved a hand in his direction. Apart from the sour smell of booze, both imbibed and spilt; his off-white crumpled linen shirt and trousers reeked of stale cigarette Looking disgusted, Ann hadn’t yet finished. ‘And finally, Tony no, I am not interested in reading your latest play. The last one was pure filth. Can’t you write something with a story for once?’ Ann didn’t wait for an answer. Mumbling something to the younger woman standing next to her she stalked off to sit further away. Diana gave Alicia an apologetic shrug and followed her.

 Alicia knew Tony was writing yet another of his sleazy little plays. Nobody was very interested in performing any of his offerings, despite him saying that it was – very Pinteresque  - and nothing like the ‘usual hackneyed rubbish’ put on out here. Irritated, she too could imagine just what it would be like, awful. No doubt he had been trying to persuade Di and Ann to put his idea forward for a later production. Well, she knew Ann would be difficult to persuade once she had made up her mind and Diana was clear-thinking herself. He stood no chance.

Alicia looked around for a good place to sit. Most people were seated in small groups. Diana and Ann had found seats at the back and were chatting to Steve, Di’s handsome, rugged husband.  They were relative newcomers to the village, and as yet had given Alicia no problems. Diana was about forty years of age. She stood tall, with shoulder length dark-wavy hair and enormous green eyes fringed by long sooty black lashes. She was pretty and vivacious, an asset to the theatrical group.

Alicia turned her attention back to the other regulars. Karl had not yet arrived, but then he was always late. His memory was getting bad. Even so, he made the most of his appearances, both on and off stage, late or otherwise. Karl really was the most irritating man and he was going to be even more irritating later on. She gave a little shudder. He would of course, consider it a God-given right that the lead part of Macbeth was already his. Privately Alicia thought him to be a pompous ass, especially when it came to auditions.
 Leslie lounged against the steps. Here was another who relished in being the centre of attention. Alicia was thankful she only had to contend with his artistic talents when it came to set design. She could not have coped if he too had been an actor. She thought it strange that Leslie was here at all. His expertise wouldn’t be needed until they were well on the way with rehearsals. Perhaps he had another reason, he usually did.
Alicia didn’t have time to go and confront him now. She needed to get started with the casting. But just seeing him there made her feel nervous. She had to find a moment to ask him about his book and his intentions, and tonight if possible.
   Tony surprised Alicia when he mentioned Leslie’s black book of memoirs at the recent cast party. Actually, Tony was drunk and quite emphatic about it. ‘Leslie’s got a book full of nasty little secrets. I tell you he’s got something on everyone written down in it. He’s an absolute bastard,’ he’d complained.
Tony was right. Leslie had intimated to Alicia that the book contained some very dark and interesting snippets. It was alarming. Her private life was her own and she would do anything to keep it so. Alicia had not had a chance to speak to him lately. She felt he had been avoiding her.
Alicia had wanted to speak to him at the cast party, but Leslie had left after only a sip of the sparkling wine; not his choice of course. Leslie always left early. He was an artist and made it clear they were lucky to have his attention at all. His superior art came before their “little amateur productions.” His words and certainly not hers. Leslie reluctantly gave a hand with stage design, and instructions on how best to paint the set. With the set completed, he wanted nothing more to do with them.
Again, Alicia thanked her luck that he did not act. Karl and Leslie, two prima donnas preening on stage would have been hell for everyone.
Alicia took a deep breath; it was time for her directors’ persona to take over. She enjoyed being in charge of what she most loved. She took another glance around at the gathered cast; channelling her vision. She knew she had a talent for directing. She could see with perfect clarity, how to block the moves for each scene in the play that was to come and she rarely made a mistake when it came to casting. She used her actors as puppets of her own making. Now, as she stood in front of everyone her whole demeanour and character changed; firm, direct and skilful in handling a cast.

~~~~~~

 ‘I don’t want to read Duncan! It’s – well, I don’t consider it’s the right part for someone like me,’ said Karl, his eyes blazing as he confronted Alicia.
‘Sorry, Karl I know what I am doing.’ Alicia continued undeterred. ‘You are perfect for the part.’
‘I have always played Macbeth in the past!’ Karl sat a little apart from the rest of the group. His body was rigid with agitation; his eyes flashed as his temper began to take hold of him.

‘Yes, you have before now. However,’ Alicia replied quietly, taking a deep breath, and hoping her voice would not waver before she finished. ‘It’s a huge part that is both demanding and perhaps more to the point requires a younger, more virile man. You know you much prefer fewer lines to remember these days. You found the last play really tiring and had some difficulty learning your lines.’
An expectant hush fell over the cast as her words hit home. With exchanged glances and raised eyebrows, one or two winced as if they could feel the hatred flare up between Karl and Alicia. Diplomacy had never been one of her finer points.

Karl leapt to his feet, waved his hands in the air dramatically and then stamped his foot. She almost recoiled as he spat his retort at her. 
‘Yes, but Duncan! He’s an old man who’s bumped off early in the play! Are you suggesting that I can’t remember my lines? If so, then you are being outrageous! Really, Alicia I don’t understand your casting and besides, you have no one else with enough stage presence or experience to carry off the rôle of Macbeth.’ He finished with a flourish, puffing up his chest and managing to splutter in a fine old rage at the same time.

The irregular members of the company shuffled in their seats in embarrassment. They were clearly unused to the tirades of Karl the Actor. Those who knew him of old looked on with amusement on their faces and some with more than a little malicious enjoyment at his fury and discomfiture. Alicia felt she had the majority with her; and she was right. Karl, despite being a fair actor in the past, did find it increasingly difficult to remember long chunks of prose. With long periods rehearsing and the subsequent stress it created, he was left wrung out and exhausted.
Nowadays, every time a new play was cast Karl played up. He threw his weight around with childish histrionics whenever he was offered something that he considered beneath his talents. This evening was no exception as he was clearly demonstrating.
Karl honestly knew that if he had been given the lead he would have been scared to death. That did not stop him playing a rôle. It was tedious but expected.  Eventually he would settle down and accept the less demanding part Alicia wanted him to play. Before he had a chance to carry the argument further Alicia addressed the rest of the cast.
‘Moving on, there are only a couple of changes,’ she said clearing her dry throat. ‘Steve, I would like you to read Macbeth.’

A ripple of surprise flowed between them. Steve had played cameo roles in two previous productions, but her choice caught them unawares. Steve looked stunned. He opened his mouth to say something and then promptly closed it as he glanced over to Diana with a look of unexpected pleasure. Diana gave her husband a return look of sheer pride.
‘Well done,’ she mouthed and grinned at the dawning consternation on his face.

The others agreed with Alicia. As long as the actors could handle it they welcomed new blood taking the principle rôles.
Quickly, Alicia read through her notes. ‘I know Tilly isn’t here, but she already knows I want her to play Lady Macbeth. She will let me know for certain in a day or so.’ Nobody was surprised at this announcement; Tilly played a formidable leading lady.
Alicia carried on, dishing out the other characters. There were a few good-natured moans and groans but most were happy with her casting.

Sitting next to Alicia was Diana. Alicia meant to cast her as one of the three witches, a perfect character role. She hoped she would accept the part.
Pausing, Alicia noted Karl still looked grim and sulky as he threw a furious, black look across to Steve and then back to Alicia. Pouting, and with a voluble and melodramatic sigh, he opened his as yet unlooked at script and turned the pages until he found his opening scene.
 There was a bellow of rage from Leslie. ‘Is this some kind of sick joke?’ he demanded.

With a gasp everyone turned to look at him, shock registering on their faces at his rude outburst.

‘Well?’ he asked.

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Amazon Reviews

5/5/2011

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http://amzn.to/frQKK0

With a new publication it can take ages to build up reviews and a public following -so I was particularly delighted with the review I received yesterday from a lovely lady in London.
Just thought I'd mention this!!
Have a great day

Faith Mortimer
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