Being a Grown-Up: 2013 365 Challenge #248

Breakfast out with Mummy

Today was one of those days when I forgot that I’m the grown up.

I had my daughter home alone all day for the first time since my son was six months old (I think, maybe apart from illness).

Even though we had a day full of activities – shopping for school stuff, doing craft, going to the park – it was not a great day. I’m so used to having both children together that I’d forgotten how much more time consuming it is just having one. You can’t send them out to play or sit them in front of the TV. I haven’t had to do nine hours of continuous childcare since the youngest was a year old and able to keep up with his sister.

Staying up late to finish my blog last night didn’t prepare me well for the day. I lay awake with W8-BEN forms and proofreading queries floating through my head and didn’t drop off until 3am.

Followed by cake

My son woke around 5.30am, crying and calling, “Mummy, why did the man take the flowers?” I went in and answered (as only a mother can, I guess), “Because he wanted them for Aunt Polly” (it was from a TV show we watched earlier in the day.) So that was my chance of four continuous hours of sleep gone.

I did try to be a good parent. I barely opened my ipad, except to take photographs and have a cheeky check on my email. I only did twenty minutes of’ proofreading, and shut my laptop when my daughter asked for a cuddle because she missed her brother.

I took another twenty minutes to Vax the playroom, where the dog was sick overnight, and even that had her whining. I tried so hard, but she missed her brother and she was just plain horrid for much of the day. And, on three hours’ sleep, I’m ashamed to say I took it personally. By the time we picked my son up at 5.30pm I was ready to drop them both home and keep driving.

Then, of course, they squabbled non-stop from the moment we all got in: mostly about who would get to sit in the corner of the sofa (their latest battle ground. Give me strength.)

Craft picture ‘for her teachers’

When you’ve missed someone all day it’s natural to pick a fight with them: I do it with my hubbie all the time. But I didn’t have any patience left for the noise. Hubbie was off talking to some person about cars, I hadn’t had three minutes to even empty the dishwasher.

I confess, I yelled. I went and hid in the playhouse. I would have driven away, if I’d had the energy to open the gates to get the car out. I’m not proud, but there you go.

Then, as I put our son to bed (after they’d squabbled over who was going to take them to bed: even though I ALWAYS take our son) I heard my daughter sobbing hysterically downstairs. I admit it only irritated me. I’d given her everything I had and it wasn’t enough. Instead she spent the day being bossy and rude and ungrateful. I’d tried to ask my Mum and my hubbie for help and both had ignored my plea. I’d had enough.

A pipe cleaner swing and person

When I got downstairs, hubbie explained that our daughter is scared about starting school. The wait is making her crazy (she doesn’t even start until next Monday, and then it’ll be three weeks before she’s full time). Being home alone today had driven it home that things were changing, and she wanted to just get on with it and get the wait over with.

I felt awful.

The signs had been there during the day – talking about making gifts for her preschool teachers, her new teachers, wanting her school bag and everything ready. She’d been worried and I hadn’t noticed. I was so wrapped up in my own sleep-deprived misery.

So, with hubbie mediation, we talked. I showed her the list of questions I’ve been compiling for her teacher’s home visit on Friday. I said that she wouldn’t be the only one who didn’t know everything and not to worry.

I tried to be the grown up. It was a bit late, I think. I should have been that person all day. I remember times, as a child, when Mum would hide in the tree house with a drink. I never understood it. Today I understood. Sometimes you don’t want to be the grown-up, especially when you have to be. Mum was a single parent at that time: what excuse do I have?

Tomorrow, I will try to be a grown-up. Today, I’m going to have a glass of wine, think of something for Claire to do, and go to bed.

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Below is the next installment in my novel Two-Hundred Steps Home: written in daily posts since 1st January as part of my 2013 365 Challenge. Read about the challenge here.You can catch up by downloading the free ebook volumes on the right hand side of the blog:

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After hours spent worrying that Josh would somehow arrange for them to share a double room, Claire’s relief at being placed in a dorm was short-lived.

I might as well have shared with Josh; he can practically hug me from his bed anyway.

The room was tiny. With eight people and their luggage crammed in, it felt like a train carriage rather than a bedroom. Considering how expensive it was for the dorm, not to mention the deposit for the cutlery, Claire wasn’t impressed.

I thought it’d be cheaper to travel here than at home, given the high volume of traffic coming through some of these places. And who ever heard of paying a deposit to use a fork? Barmy.

Not wanting to spoil her trip by worrying about money, Claire dropped her rucksack on the bed and followed Bethan, Josh and the other people from the bus, out of the room.

Claire could see the beach as they left the hostel. Fine golden sand and clear blue water stretched away from her. She could imagine running straight into the sea in summer. Now, with an autumnal nip in the air, she was content to dig her toes in the sand and soak in the beauty.

She sensed Josh shadowing her steps, as she walked beside Bethan and chatted about the accommodation and where to go for dinner. Bethan kept glancing behind her, a frown on her flawless face.

“So, what is it with you and the moody doctor?”

Bethan lowered her voice but Claire still blushed, worried Josh could hear.

Speeding up to open the gap between them and Josh, Claire leant in close to Bethan and said, as nonchalantly as she could, “He’s just someone I met while travelling in the UK. We shared a ride for a couple of weeks. He lives in Oz and popped over to say hi.”

“Claire, no one flies from Australia to New Zealand to say hi. That’s what phones are for. They certainly don’t hop on the bus with you or follow you round like a lost puppy.”

Bethan’s words caused bile to rise in Claire’s throat.

“It’s complicated.”

The girl snorted in response. “That’s not an answer, that’s a Facebook relationship status. Are you shagging him, or what? And if not, can I?” Her deep, throaty, laugh rolled around the half-empty beach.

“Bethan! Hush, he’ll hear you.” Claire prayed for the sand to open before her and swallow her up.

“So what? He’s delish. Come on, spill the beans.”

“He’s married.” Claire’s voice dropped like water on a fire. If she expected her words to dampen Bethan’s enthusiasm, she hadn’t counted on the girl’s tenacity.

“And? If he was happily married he wouldn’t be here. Has he ditched the wife? Are you the replacement? You must have made a hell of an impression on him in a short time.”

Claire looked round to make sure Josh wasn’t hanging on every word. She could see him further up the beach, in a circle with some lads from the bus. As if sensing her scrutiny, he turned and waved when he saw her watching. She quickly turned away.

“Honestly? I have no idea what’s going on. I won’t deny that I fancied him when we travelled together, but I didn’t know he was married then. Now I’ve met his wife, and his three kids, and being a home breaker isn’t my style.”

“So, what are you going to do? He’s clearly crazy about you and, I have to say, you talk a good talk but I’m not buying it.”

Claire looked across at her friend, trying to read the meaning in her dark eyes.

What is it about travelling that makes you confide in complete strangers? Is it that there’s no one else, or that you’re all in it together. Maybe just the fact that you’re unlikely to ever see them again. Not that that’s worked for me. I’ve bumped into Maggie, Josh and even Bethan more than once.

Claire kicked her feet in the surf and sighed. “What a mess.”

“Why not just bed him and move on? If he’s serious about leaving the wife, there’s nothing you can do about it. If he isn’t, then sleeping with you will bring him to his senses.”

The blunt practicality of the girl’s tone made Claire shrivel. Despite her near miss with the Scotsman, she wasn’t in the habit of bed hopping. And, underneath his current puppy dog behaviour, Josh was still a good friend. She didn’t want to risk that by giving in to his lures. And yet, deep in her gut, she yearned to surrender.

With another gusty sigh she shook her head. “We’ll see,”

For some reason it made Bethan giggle all the way back to the hostel.

***

F-ein-tastic!: 2013 365 Challenge #247

Mind-Numbing Paperwork

Hurrah! I got my EIN number today.

After a year of telling myself “I will call tomorrow” and never quite managing it, my “fax them instead” plan worked a charm. Just as they said it would, it only took four business days for my EIN to arrive by fax to my inbox.

Cue BIG GRINS!

For anyone else like me, who hates having to phone anyone, or who doesn’t want to spend a fortune on hold to an international phone number, here is a rough idea of what I did to get my number.

1. Read Catherine, Caffeinated’s blog post on applying for an EIN (especially read the bit at the top *Read this first* and the comments). Even if you’re going to fax rather than phone, this will still make sure you know all the answers to the questions needed to complete the SS-4 Form.

2. Download the SS-4 form (or here) AND the notes. You need to read the notes, although don’t be daunted. On page three of the SS-4 there is a chart titled “Do I need an EIN?”

Point 8 on this chart, where it says IF the applicant … Is a foreign person needing an EIN to comply with IRS withholding regulations AND Needs an EIN to complete a Form W-8 (…) explains which parts of the form need to be completed. These are: Lines 1-5b, 7a-b (SSN or ITIN optional), 8a, 8b-c (if applicable), 9a, 9b (if applicable), 10, and 18.

3. Use the notes on Catherine, Caffeinated’s post, together with the Instructions Form, to help you understand what information is required for each of these sections. Heed the advice to fill everything out in full (no abbreviations). I completed my form in Adobe Photoshop, because I have it, and because there was no way I could fit my address legibly in the teeny tiny box by hand. It probably isn’t necessary but it certainly helps if you can type the form.

4. Ensure you have included a fax number for yourself in the bottom right-hand corner, and fax to this number:

International Revenue Service Center

Attn: EIN International Operation

Cincinnati, OH 45999

Fax-TIN: (1) 859-669-5987

4a. If (like me) you don’t have a fax machine, there are plenty of online companies who can convert a scanned document into a fax and send it for you. I used efax, signing up for their free 30 day trial (provided I remember to cancel it tomorrow!) They allowed me to choose my own local fax number and emailed me the response from the IRS. You do have to give your credit card details so make sure you cancel it within the 30 days.

5. Once you get your magic EIN number back, you need to complete the W-8BEN Forms for Amazon and Smashwords (if you have your EIN you can ignore most of the advice on the Smashwords page about the W7 form).

Again, Catherine Caffeinated’s blog has details on how to do this (although the postal address for Smashwords is out of date, so it’s worth double checking the information. The latest one is below.)

Amazon now have an automated system – the tax interview – whereby you complete your W-8BEN Form online. It’s worth doing this first, so you can copy their information to complete the Smashwords form (which has to be posted to this address:).

Postal mail us a printed, signed copy of your W8BEN form to:

Smashwords, Inc.
Attn: Tax Compliance Dept.
PO Box 11817
Bainbridge Island, WA USA 98110

NOTE: You have to include your Smashwords screen name (ie for me it’s writermummy) and account email address on the form before you post it to them.

6. Sell some books, happy in the knowledge that (in a month or two) you will no longer lose 30% of your income to the IRS.

Caveat: This is my experience of the process. I didn’t take many notes and I found it all quite straightforward, particularly after reading ALL of the Catherine Caffeinated post, including comments. If you have anything extra to add, or your experience was different in any way, please let me know in the comments below.

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Claire felt a tap on her arm. Prising her eyes open, she stared blearily to her left. Josh peered at her with a sheepish grin on his face.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No.” Claire yawned. She glanced to her right, but the seat was empty. Feeling slightly betrayed that Bethan had left her to her fate, Claire turned back to Josh.

“Yes, it’s just us.” His smile was too knowing, and Claire flushed at being caught. She already suspected that Josh had seen through her blatant attempts to avoid being alone with him, both at dinner the night before, and during the wait for the ferry that morning.

“Would you like to take a walk? We’re just entering the sound, and the scenery is breathtaking.”

Even though the ferry barely felt like it was moving – in strong contrast to her experience two days before – Claire didn’t feel like going on deck. But something about Josh’s expression told her he would pester her until she gave in, so she nodded and hoped it would be too noisy outside for conversation.

Josh led her through a heavy door, holding it open for her with a flourish. She smiled at his antics but it didn’t alleviate the lead weight tugging at her chest. As much as she was enjoying spending time with Josh, she found his behaviour unnerving: he watched her constantly, even when he was talking to someone else. It was more like being stalked by Neal than having her friend back.

I miss the old Josh.

With another yawn, Claire inhaled the fresh morning air and agreed that it was indeed beautiful. The grass-coated cliffs rose either side of them, forming a narrow tunnel for the ferry to chug through. The scenery had an other-world feel to it: too large, too green, too perfect. She felt like a mouse drifting along the riverbank on a leaf.

Josh leant on the railings, his face into the wind. She went to stand beside him and, for a moment, they contemplated the view in companionable silence.

“Claire–”

She winced, then changed it to, “Hmmm?”

“I never got a chance to tell you yesterday about why I came. The truth is, I’m thinking of leaving Fiona.”

Claire gasped. She couldn’t help it. Whatever she had imagined he might say; that hadn’t been it.

Stupid girl. It should have been obvious: the lingering glances, his coming all this way to see you.

She tried to analyse her reaction to his announcement. Wasn’t that what she wanted? Josh, free from Fiona and hers for the taking? Except somehow she didn’t want it anymore. The Josh she loved was a faithful, loving man, not someone who would walk out on his wife and children.

“Why?”

Josh released a sigh. “It’s too damn hard, that’s why. All she has time for these days is the kids. They come first in everything. We barely talk anymore, never mind, well …”

“But Lily’s only a baby; surely it will get easier when she’s a bit older.”

“Fiona said that after Lucas and Sophie and then Lily came along. She’ll probably want another one, as soon as Lily doesn’t need her 24-7. It feels like her way of avoiding being with me: having more and more babies.”

“I thought you loved the children.”

Josh ran his hands through his hair. “I do. Don’t get me wrong, they’re great kids. And Fiona. But a man has needs, you know? Oh not just the obvious ones.”

He turned to face her, and the bitterness in his expression made her catch her breath.

“Just once I’d like her to ask about my day, instead of handing me the baby so she can grab a shower or go to bed. I feel like we’re co-workers on a rolling twelve-hour shift pattern. I don’t remember the last time we had an uninterrupted conversation.”

Claire thought back to her time caring for Sky. She’d felt like that with only one child to look after, she couldn’t imagine what it must be like with three. And, even though her first reaction was to call Josh a selfish bastard for not being more supportive of Fiona, she had to admit he probably had a point. When they’d all been together in the hostel, Fiona’s attention had been consumed by the children.

“Shouldn’t you be talking to Fiona about this, not me?”

Josh hung his head and rubbed his hand around the back of his neck. It was the gesture of a beaten man. “I’ve tried. She gets all emotional: either accusing me of being selfish or telling me to clear off and find someone else to see to my needs because she’s too busy.”

Claire’s ears buzzed as she tried to think. She didn’t want to be having this conversation. Was she meant to be the someone else? Josh’s pain was her pain, but part of her could see how childish he was being. Parenthood was hard: you took the good with the bad.

If I were Fiona, I’d probably tell him to sod off, too.

Not knowing what to say, Claire absentmindedly rubbed his shoulder in support. As if the physical contact was all the permission he needed, Josh turned to her and seized her face with his hands. He kissed her, hard, his stubble grazing her face. Not like the soft brush of the lips of their first embrace.

She didn’t respond but, unlike the last time, Josh didn’t pull away. After several painful moments, Claire pushed at his chest and he broke free, panting.

She looked up at him, eyes wide. His expression was wild and it scared her. Then he seemed to control his features and smiled the lopsided grin that tightened round her heart like a fist.

“Sorry. Can’t blame a man for trying.”

He turned back to face the sea, as if nothing had happened. Claire stood motionless, except for the trembling in her limbs, her mind a jumble of thoughts and feelings.

Ah, crap.

***

Avoiding Amazon’s Double-Whammy On Tax! (hdthomas.wordpress.com)
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A Doggy Birthday: 2013 365 Challenge #246

Happy Birthday Kara

It’s our lovely Kara’s fifth birthday today. I only remembered at tea time, so unfortunately she hasn’t been spoiled as much as she should have (although she’s had plenty of cheese!). The first of our babies to turn five. It feels strange. She obviously hasn’t been in this house five years, as she was eight weeks old when we picked her up. Still, it’s a time to reflect, as birthdays often are.

Kara and I have a volatile relationship. She’s not the kind of dog that is always loyal and loving: she’s too smart for that. She’s loyal to the person who feeds and walks her. She does like the family to be all together in one room, often rounding me up once the kids are in bed so she can sleep on the sofa in the lounge (as she is now.)

Unfortunately we were as new to dog ownership as we were to parenting, when Kara joined us. And it’s easier to unpick the mistakes you make with a child than it is with a dog. So many of Kara’s most annoying habits are entirely my fault. That doesn’t endear you to someone!

Always part of the family

For instance she is terrified of thunder. I’ve lost many a night’s sleep to cuddling next to her on the sofa while she whines and quivers. We know why.

The first time she heard thunder and cried, I was putting my baby daughter to bed. I comforted Kara much as I would have comforted the baby if she were upset. I took her upstairs with me, so her crying wouldn’t keep the baby awake, and I made a fuss.

Big Mistake. Big. HUGE.

Now we’re trying to unpick the damage, creating a positive association between thunder and cheese! It seems to be working but it’s a long arduous road.

My daughter playing with Kara

The second annoying habit she has is following me around. That’s my fault too.

I was six months pregnant when we got her as a tiny puppy. I didn’t have the energy to rush around making sure she wasn’t chewing things or peeing on the carpet, so I would call her to me every few minutes. She learnt that her job was to always be by my side.

Drives me nuts.

It was also the start of our fighting, as tripping over a puppy you can’t see because of your ginormous bump tends to lead to shouting.

Her third phobia – the car – is also down to us. On a long trip to Dorset for our first family holiday she shared the boot with the pushchair. We think it must have rolled on her at some point because now she has to be lifted in the car, even if the boot is completely empty. She can be as stubborn, awkward, pushy, sulky and jealous as any of the children. She is definitely the first child!

The toy goes here, Kara

Poor Kara. I wish we could go back and take a dog owners’ course before we bought her. Mind you, I think she was always going to be a bit neurotic.

When we arrived at the kennel to choose our new puppy, having decided on the labradoodle breed as best for a young family, there were two black puppies left. I chose the other one, because it had a curlier coat and would (hopefully) shed less hair.

As we walked into the office, my husband looked back towards the pen, and Kara was peering over the top, standing on her back legs (as she does so often now), looking pitiful. He melted and she came in with us too.

I guess these guys will do for now

Of the two puppies, Kara was the only one interested in us. The other was more interested in trying to escape. So the choice was made and the puppy who didn’t want to be left alone came home with us.

She is a darling. She gives great cuddles, especially when I’m upset. She runs to the kids if they cry. She puts up with them saying “Go away Kara!” and then calling her back the next minute. She lives for chasing sticks and balls, swimming in the river and eating cheese. She can easily jump an eight foot ditch and approaches new dogs on her belly, begging to play. She’ll box with a terrier and chase with a sheepdog.

She makes me get out and walk everyday, and her joyous running teaches me to live in the moment. Her favourite place in the world is wedged between me and hubbie on the sofa. She’s crazy and annoying, boisterous and shouty, messy and greedy, she snores louder than my hubbie and her farts could knock out a grown man. And we love her.

She fits right in! ________________________________________________________________________________

Claire walked beside Bethan and tried to concentrate on what her friend was saying. Behind her, Josh chatted with another member of the group, not showing he was in anyway frustrated by the intrusion. Claire wasn’t fooled. She had felt his gaze on her more than once as they meandered back to town at a much more leisurely pace than Josh had set for the climb up to Mount Victoria.

She had to admit to feeling relieved that Josh was unable to finish what he’d been on the verge of telling her. Something about the intensity of his stare, when their eyes clashed, and the way he seemed to keep accidentally touching her skin or finding a reason to rest his hand on her arm, unsettled her.

“… are you coming? Claire?”

Claire looked into Bethan’s dark eyes and flushed as she realised she had no idea what the girl was talking about.

“Earth to Claire! Where were you, my lovely? You looked light years away.”

Claire felt the blush burn hotter and resisted the need to turn towards Josh, convinced that he would be listening to their conversation.

“Sorry, I wasn’t anywhere, just lack of sleep.”

“I thought you said you slept like the dead last night?” Bethan’s lips twitched in a coy smile and Claire wondered what erroneous conclusions she was drawing from Josh’s appearance out of the blue.

“I did, but I think that stupid ferry trip took more out of me than I realised. I’m truly sorry. What were you saying? Am I coming where?”

“On the ferry tomorrow? We’re going to pick up the bus at Picton and go kayaking in the Abel Tasman Park. The weather’s meant to be awesome for the time of year.”

Claire’s thoughts tumbled like white water rapids; churning with conflicting desires. She had to find out what Josh wanted before she could make plans, although she wasn’t sure what he might say that would force her to change hers. She needed to get on with her journey, time was slipping away.

Josh’s voice broke in on her confusion. “Why don’t I come over with you? It’s been years since I went hiking in the Abel Tasman Park, it’ll be fun.”

“But surely you don’t have your gear with you? I thought you were here for a conference?” Claire heard the protestations in her voice and wondered what Josh would make of them. Suddenly she didn’t want him coming on her adventure. He wasn’t the carefree Josh she remembered and she found his presence unnerving.

“She’ll be right. You can hike the National Park in trainers, it’ll be bonza.”

She raised an eyebrow at his sudden rendition of Aussie Male and he smirked. Aware of a strong compulsion to push him down the hillside, Claire merely shrugged.

“Sure, why not. Provided there’s room on the bus.”

Bethan gave her a sideways glance and Claire could tell she was trying to figure out her lukewarm reaction to Josh’s suggestion. She wasn’t sure she understood it herself. Maybe the past was better off where it was, rather than letting it intrude on the present. Nothing good ever came from going back: look at Michael.

Like an aviary of noisy parrots, the chatter of the group rose around her as they discussed where to go for dinner and what time the ferry would leave in the morning. Claire let it wash over her and walked the rest of the route in silence.

***

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A New Day Out: 2013 365 Challenge #245

My NZ Skydive

We went on a new day out with the children today. We didn’t mean to be out all day, but sometimes these things sneak up. My cousin was booked in to tandem skydive at the local airfield and we went up to watch him jump. Last year we arrived just as he was landing so we went a little early, took some snacks, and got there before they did.

Unfortunately it turned out he wasn’t booked in, so we ended up waiting for three hours and leaving before his group were called, when the children started to flag. We’re wind burnt and exhausted, but it was a great day out.

There was so much going on. Not just the parachute flights but other small aircraft taking off and landing, people coming and going. Our kids played with their big second (third?) cousins, and some other children also waiting. We had snacks and burgers, coffee and ice cream and caught up with family we usually only see at weddings and funerals.

At the airfield

I also got to tell the children that Mummy did that once, Mummy jumped out of a plane at 15,000 feet. (It’s the only thing I’ve done that hubbie hasn’t). My second cousins were impressed, probably because I don’t look like someone who would throw themselves out of a perfectly good airplane. I wouldn’t do it again. I wouldn’t have done it then except they wouldn’t let me stay on board. Apparently it’s not safe landing the plane with people in (or that’s what they said. Thinking about it that’s probably rubbish!)

So it’s been an amazing day. Shame about the windburn and the exhaustion (not that the children are tired. They’re never tired!). What is it about wind that is so tiring? Maybe it’s dehydration. I’m definitely filing it away in my writer’s mental notebook for future reference.

And the airfield is a great place to take the children for an inexpensive day out. There was even a replica spitfire in the hangar as we walked up to the viewing area. Fantastic.

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Claire inhaled the muggy scent of damp track and bushland and sighed.

This is what’s amazing about this country. You couldn’t wander through London and stumble across a bushland walk up a steep hillside.

If she closed her eyes, it was easy to imagine she was back in the Tongariro reserve, or up near Cape Reinga ready to hug the trees, rather than in the country’s capital city.

She could hear Josh’s steady breathing beside her. That was the difference. In the Tongariro Park the closest she had come to companionship was dodging Neal’s strange attempts at seduction. Having Josh alongside her was like pulling on her favourite sweater to stave off a chilly evening. Except it wasn’t so comfortable any more.

Claire thought through the new awkwardness of their relationship, as she kept pace with Josh’s long strides and tried not to pant with exertion.

What’s changed from when we travelled together? We weren’t involved, apart from that near kiss at the beginning. It didn’t matter that he had a wife and kids. But only because I didn’t know about them, I suppose. Would I have been happy sharing a bunk-bed with him if I’d known he was married?

Looking back on their time at the Hartington hostel, and the day trip in Cambridge, Claire remembered how altered Josh had been. When Fiona had been unknown, when she hadn’t met Lucas, Sophie and Lily, Josh had been hers. There were no complications, no guilt, no subtext. She hadn’t even worried that much whether she fancied him or not. All the Michael stuff had been too raw for her to want to dive headlong into something new.

Now that was old news it seemed she was a dog on heat. Because there was no doubt she ached to hold him. Every time his skin brushed against hers she felt on fire. Her senses zinged as if she’d been fed coffee on an intravenous drip since breakfast.

She kept glancing at him, trying to see if he felt the spark between them. If she caught his eye he just smiled or ran a little way, taunting her for her inability to keep up. On the surface he was the Josh of old. But now and then, when he thought she wasn’t looking, she knew he watched her. And of course there was the email. They hadn’t talked about that. Thanks to the strenuous walk they hadn’t talked about anything much.

That’s probably a good thing. It’s lovely to see him, but it will be better for all of us when he flies back to his wife and I finally get both feet on the south island.

After what felt like hours, they crested the hill and left the bush behind. Claire gasped at the unexpected view. All around and beneath her, Wellington sprawled out to the horizon. She groaned as Josh pointed to the steps leading up to the top of the lookout.

“No more climbing. My legs are on strike.”

“Do you want me to carry you?” Josh’s voice was playful but Claire gave a little shiver.

“It’s fine. I’ll walk. You may have to roll me back down the hill to the hotel though.”

Before he could say anything she strode past him, taking the stairs two at a time. She reached the top first and had a moment to catch her breath before he was once more standing too close for comfort.

“Told you it would be worth it.” Josh said, once he was breathing normally.

Claire turned, confused at his words, and realised he was talking about the view. “Yes. It’s nothing like Auckland, is it?”

“No. This is more the real New Zealand, I think. Look, there’s the airstrip.” Josh pointed at a ribbon of green stretching out into the ocean.

“Bugger that. Now I’m definitely taking the ferry south.”

There was a pause, and she realised it was the first time either of them had spoken of the future. She wondered if Josh would take the chance to explain why he had come. He leant his arms on the railing and looked around at the panoramic view. Claire sensed the tension in his shoulders, but didn’t have the words to break the silence. Instead she gazed at the snow-capped mountains in the distance, the harbour beneath her where the high-rise buildings were dwarfed by the surrounding hills. On the other side she could see a large circle of green that she decided must be a cricket pitch. And running through the buildings all the way to the horizon were thick bands of native bush.

What an amazing city.

“Claire, I …”

Josh’s voice cut through her reverie and made her hands tremble. There was so much loaded into two words. She turned to face him, studying his profile as he continued to gaze into the distance.

“I needed to see you. The truth is I’m–”

“Claire!”

A voice cut through Josh’s words and Claire bit back a curse. With a deep sigh she turned and forced a smile onto her face.

“Bethan, hello.”

The girl rushed over, leaving behind a group of people Claire vaguely recognised from the ferry. Bethan’s ability to make friends astounded her.

“You didn’t get the ferry then? I thought you might, as it’s such a gorgeous day.” Then, sensing she was interrupting, Bethan looked towards Josh in confusion. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“No, it’s fine. Bethan this is Josh, Josh, Bethan. We were on the ferry together yesterday.”

Josh pushed away from the railing and turned to face the newcomer, shielding his eyes against the sun. He turned on his brightest smile and chatted to Bethan as if they were old friends.

Claire watched the mask slide back in place across his face and felt a heavy lump drop into her stomach. Whatever he had been about to say, the moment had passed. Following Josh and Bethan as they walked towards the other group, Claire wondered if she felt disappointed or relieved.

September to Remember: 2013 365 Challenge #244

In the crow’s nest

My goodness, is it September already? I only realised because my KDP books sales reports have gone from ‘not very many’ to ‘ugly brown bar that will make you miserable until you sell a book’. Hopefully I’ll manage to get Baby Blues finished sometime soon to boost sales all round.

This September will be one to remember. This is the month when my son – my baby – turns three. My daughter – my other baby – starts school. My second book, Baby Blues, goes out in the world, hopefully in print and ebook format. My hubbie (hopefully) finds a job, and I get to wear jeans again at last as we move into autumn. I love autumn!

It’s been a helluva year and September always feels like that month when things begin to wind down. Crazy, as there are still four months left of the year, but it still does.

Building dens

I’m hoping this September will also be the month of reading: I just won a bundle of books in a Ebook Escapes Author Tour rafflecopter giveaway! I never win anything, so I’m very excited. What a great way to start the month.

Actually I started the month lying in bed for an hour next to a comatose husband, while the kids took themselves downstairs to play. God bless them. Hubbie has been away playing cars for two days, so he is exhausted. I took the children out to one of the farms we visit yesterday, with some friends, and we tried very hard to wear the children out.

Four hours at the farm, riding ponies, making dens, digging in the sandpit, and we went back to their house for more playing, trampolining, den building, and craft, finishing with a loud, noisy, splashy bath which thankfully their daddy was in charge of.

My smart boy

My children were finally home and in bed at 8.30pm and I crawled up an hour later, thinking I could write my post in the morning while they slept in. Only they were up at 6.30am. How do kids do that?

And instead of writing my post I started filling out my Smashwords author questionnaire, before realising I was writing all about Dragon Wraiths when it’s locked into KDP Select until the end of the month! Oops.

So apologies for the random ramble of a post this morning: I’m trying to get my brain into gear to write the first Claire installment of September. Always the hardest of the month, as it’s hopefully the grab for people to download and read the ebook. By the way, if you know anyone who fancies a gentle read in nice, easy to manage, 20-25k chunks, do send them to Smashwords, Apple or Barnes & Noble to download the Claire installments. Or send them here, of course! 🙂

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Claire stepped back, her face burning. Afraid to meet Josh’s gaze, she stared at the floor, until she heard him chuckle.

“Well, that was some welcome. I didn’t need to worry whether you’d be pleased to see me then?”

Claire’s cheeks burned hotter and she turned to collect her rucksack; feeling a strong urge to keep walking to the door.

Really cool, Claire, really clever. Flinging yourself at a married man like he’s your long lost lover. What were you thinking?

Retrieving her bag, Claire concentrated on long, slow, breaths, to calm her hammering heart and cool her red-hot skin. After everything that had happened in the months since she’d last seen him, it had been more than she could do to keep herself under control.

He’s still married. Just because he’s come to New Zealand to find me, he still has a wife and three kids.

She forced herself to smile brightly, and walked back to Josh. “It’s always nice to see a friendly face when you’re a long way from home.”

Josh raised an eyebrow and Claire prayed he wouldn’t push it. For a moment they were still and something seem to pass between them, although Claire couldn’t decide exactly what. He seemed vulnerable, as if he also needed a hug, a friend. She remembered his email had said precisely that.

Then a mask dropped over his features, and he was the old Josh. “So, how are you liking being on the right side of the world? Plucked up the courage to bungee jump yet?” He linked arms with her and guided her to a seat.

Grateful for his light words, Claire sought to do the same. “I love New Zealand. No I haven’t thrown myself off a bridge with an elastic band round my ankles, but I have been white water rafting and sand boarding. You’d have been proud.” She flushed, as memories of him coaxing her to jump off a waterfall came to mind. He felt like her teacher in the life of the verb and that led onto other dangerous thoughts.

If Josh noticed he didn’t say anything. “Yes, I’ve seen some of it on the blog. You’ve come a long way, I’m impressed. And how do you like the tour bus experience?”

“Ah, not so much. You know I missed the bus? At Cape Reinga? It’s not the same as having your own car. But at least I don’t have to think.”

Beneath the veneer of their words, Claire could feel the tension, the shared memories of travelling around England in her Skoda, of hiking and getting drunk together. He bore little resemblance to the scruffy man who had taken her to an observatory in the snow three months before.

Looking at him now, she wondered if she would have recognised him if she hadn’t known it was him in the lift. There was no hint of the unwashed hobo. His hair was short and neat, his skin tanned. His clothes had no patches or home repairs, no stains or holes. He looked every inch the doctor on vacation, in his polo shirt and jeans.

She felt herself under a similar scrutiny and wondered what Josh saw. Could he tell that her clothes hadn’t been washed in a fortnight? Did she look like someone whose world had collapsed in the intervening weeks since their last meeting?

At least I had a shower this morning. Thank god he didn’t see me when I got off the ferry yesterday.

“You look … well. A tan suits you.” Josh said eventually, his words breaking the silence. “You’re thinner, though. Are you eating properly?”

His low voice burrowed into her tummy, leaving a warm glow. Claire became aware of every inch of her skin, every sound around her. The receptionist greeting travellers with a cheery hello. The barista in the bar whistling over the sound of the coffee machine. Chinking cutlery as someone laid the tables for lunch. She could smell Josh’s aftershave, although he no longer carried the scent of wood smoke. She wondered if Fiona disapproved of him smoking.

As if remembering her name brought Josh’s wife into the room, Claire jerked, feeling as if she’d been doused in cold water. With a shake of her head she tried to recall his question.

“Yes, I’m fine. Being stuck on a tour bus is a great way to diet. And I was on the ferry that got turned back from Picton yesterday.”

Josh’s expression changed to a more professional concern. “Holy crap, are you okay? No bumps or bruises? I heard that was pretty bad. Ten hours on a boat, poor chook. Have you had breakfast?”

She nodded, unable to speak. It had been so long since someone had worried about her – since she’d felt herself to be anything other than a nuisance – that the tears threatened to spill down her cheeks again.

Josh seemed to sense her distress. He sat up straight and smiled, although his eyes remained troubled.

“Let’s get out of here. Do you want me to drop your rucksack in my room? Then we can go exploring. Did you see much of Wellington? Have you been up to Mount Victoria? It’s worth the walk.”

Grateful for his understanding, Claire nodded. “That sounds good. I didn’t see much, the weather was awful.”

“That’s a plan then.” Josh leapt to his feet and picked up her bag. “Let’s go exploring.”

Knowing she would regret it, but helpless to resist, Claire followed meekly in his wake.

***

The Indie & The Masses (thislittlelight516.wordpress.com)
My First Book (alexisrian.wordpress.com)
Mom of 3 Makes $4,885.30 in book sales in 5 days on Amazon KDP! (positivething.net)
The Doing Nothing Update (mtmathieson.wordpress.com)

Smashwords Stats: 2013 365 Challenge #243

Good news for me!

I received an email from Smashwords this morning with some great information. I’m sure any authors reading have probably seen it, but if you haven’t had a chance to go through it, here are the highlights.

1. You can now complete an author interview on Smashwords (you don’t even need to have published a book, just to be registered with Smashwords).

I’d heard about this from Pat Elliott, who looked into it when releasing her short story collection, At Sanctuary’s Gate. However it was a useful reminder to me to get around to completing it. It’s now about #3 on my to-do list! (After finish August’s THSH and finish proofreading BBWS)

2. The results of Smashwords’ survey are in and they make interesting reading. The key points for me were:

$3.99 books sell better than $1.99 books (in numbers, not just revenue)
Longer books sell better than shorter books (115,274 words was the good average: Baby Blues and Dragon Wraiths are both around 113,000 words so this was good news, and against traditional publishing advice, which is to keep novels below 100,000 words)
The trend has moved away from 99c books but Free still does well. This is interesting in light of the discussion here on the blog earlier in the week.

$1-$1.99 not as effective as it used to be

3. You can now (or will soon be able to) set your self-published book up for pre-order. This is excellent news. The advantages of pre-order are many (see the link), but the key two are:

a) you can ensure your book has reached the premium catalogue before beginning promotion. It can take ages to get out to Barnes & Noble, Apple and Kobo (In fact, one of my Two Hundred Steps Home books still hasn’t made it to iBooks, which is annoying). Being able to do that in advance means it’s all in place

b) pre-orders go through as sales on release day for Apple and Kobo, meaning an influx of sales numbers all at once. This can be enough to put you on the bestseller list, at least briefly, and will really help rankings.

It’s too late for Baby Blues & Wedding Shoes, as it’s already been live for a while (albeit it with the unproofread version. An error on my part that I won’t make again!) but, for Class Act, when it’s ready for publishing next year, I will definitely make use of it. I might even re-release Dragon Wraiths through Smashwords, and see how that works, next time my KDP Select expires.

So, there you go. The world of self-publishing gets better and better. I’m looking forward to seeing what Baby Blues & Wedding Shoes can do outside of the KDP Select Program. I am going to be more patient with this one and not enroll unless sales are at zero for several months. It’s all exciting stuff!

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Sunlight flooded the room, dragging Claire from sleep. The rays of light felt like needles entering her eyeballs and she pulled the duvet over her head with a groan.

You’re too late, sun. We needed you yesterday, not ten foot waves and the roaring forties in full swing.

She tried to ignore the call of the yellow glow and go back to sleep. But the light was insistent, urging her to leave her bed and go outside to explore. It was the first time she’d see the sun in the capital and after a few minutes she threw back the covers.

“Alright, you win. I’m up.”

The voice echoing in the empty room didn’t sound like hers at all. The rasping noise reminded her of her thirst and the long day spent on the ferry fighting nausea. Her tummy rumbled into the silence, recalling midnight hunger that had only increased while she slept.

A glance at her phone told her it was nearly time to check out. Surprised she had slept so late, Claire hurried into the en-suite for a shower. It seemed a waste not to take advantage of the facilities: to stand in the cubicle and not wonder who else had used it since it had last been cleaned.

Maybe I could stay another night. It was rather glorious to sleep in a proper bed.

Claire dug her fingers into her scalp, trying to wash away the memories of her ferry ordeal and the fact that she would have to go through it again soon if she wanted to continue her trip.

Maybe another night wouldn’t hurt.

Then she thought about the sunshine pouring in the window, telling of the beautiful day outside. If she was going to try the ferry again, today would be the day: assuming she could get a ticket. There were another two or three hundred people also on the wrong side of the Cook Strait after the events of the day before.

Deciding she could do nothing while in the shower, Claire rinsed her hair and quickly towelled herself dry. Pulling on the cleanest clothes she could find, and spraying them with deodorant to mask the smell, Claire stuffed her belongings into her rucksack and left the room.

First things first, it’s time for breakfast.

She asked the lady on reception where the nearest café with free WiFi was located, and tried to memorise the directions.

After wandering for twenty minutes she at last found the place and ordered croissants and coffee. There was a booth in the corner and Claire threw her bag on one seat before slumping into the other. It took a moment for her tablet to connect to the internet and Claire tapped the table with her nails. Eventually her email loaded and Claire wondered why she had been so eager to reconnect with the world. There was nothing of interest in her inbox: no new comments on the blog or messages from home.

I don’t know why I thought there would be. The only person who has even noticed my absence is my potential future boss, who I’ve only met twice.

Claire sipped at her coffee and flicked through the emails, pausing at a name that didn’t look familiar. When she opened the message, her hands shook and she plonked her cup back on the table with a clatter. As she read the words the room receded until the only reality was the email on the screen.

Hi Claire,

Sorry for contacting you again. I need to see you. I really need a friend to talk to. I saw on your blog that you were in Wellington and I really hope you still are. I know it’s a long shot, but there’s an event on over the Queen’s Birthday weekend that I’ve told Fiona I’m going to. I’ll be staying at the Travelodge. If you get this email, perhaps you could stop by.

Josh

Claire’s mind pitched and tossed like the ferry that had brought her back to Wellington. Josh, here? Was it fate? And the Travelodge: he’d been staying in the same hotel as her. If only she’d managed to read her emails the night before. Would he still be there?

She gulped down her coffee and quickly consumed the croissants as the words of the email replayed in her mind.

Really need a friend? Last time he said that he admitted to killing someone, albeit by accident. Now what? And telling Fiona he’s at an event, not that he’s come to meet me? More lies.

Even as she sensed the seeds of doubt forming, she pushed them aside. This was Josh. Of course she would see him; that went without question.

It seemed to take forever to get back to the hotel and when she arrived the sweat had soaked through her top and she knew she must stink.

Great. So much for having a shower this morning. This rucksack is too heavy for carrying around in the sunshine. The sooner I get back on the bus the better.

Even as she thought it she wondered what her plans would be now. Josh wasn’t about to come to Picton with her or travel around the South Island. How long would he stay in Wellington? He wouldn’t fly all the way from Australia just for a night, would he?

Her mind twirled with questions as she went to the check in desk and asked the same receptionist who had given her directions earlier whether Josh was still in his room.

She leant against the counter and chewed her lip while the woman called through to check. Her voice murmured too low to be heard and Claire held her breath until she hung up the phone.

“He’ll be right down.”

Claire exhaled and grabbed the desk for support. She wondered if she had time to go and freshen up. She shouldered her bag again and was searching around for a ladies sign when she heard the ping of the lift.

Turning in what felt like slow motion Claire stared at the lift doors as they opened. The person that stepped through was so welcome, so familiar, that Claire had to force herself not to run across the floor and fling herself into his arms. Instead she waited for him to make eye contact, and then she smiled.

His answering grin made her heart flip-flop in her chest and her skin tingle. She took two steps towards him before stopping, uncertain.

“Hi, Claire.”

With a sob she dropped her rucksack and ran forwards.

***

Endings and Beginnings: 2013 365 Challenge #242

The Changing Faces of Time

So, there it is. My daughter is no longer a ‘preschooler’.

She doesn’t seem bothered. I think the staff were more sad at her leaving than she was. I was just grumpy that they thought the 20 chocolate chip cookies I took in this morning were for the staff, rather than for the children. I mean, what did they think the flowers, cards and all were for? Sigh.

Still, thankfully another child was also leaving today and her Mummy brought in cakes, so my two didn’t notice the mistake.

I’m glad I waited until the last possible moment to take her out of nursery. Since we got home she has asked how many days until she starts school at least a dozen times. I might record it, so I have evidence for week two, when the novelty has worn off and she doesn’t want to go back!

That’s my ending. My beginning is my beginning as a ‘proper’ author, because I finally applied for my EIN today. Those non-writers following this blog won’t realise the significance of this, but it’s a BIG THING. I did actually even call the number in the States (plucking up courage again!), to apply on the phone and hopefully come away with the precious digits today. But the automated voice told me it was a minimum 30 minute wait, and – at 20p a minute or whatever our phone company charges to the US – I didn’t fancy it. In the end doing the paperwork to complete the SS-4 Form took twice that long, although it was less scary.

Mind-Numbing Paperwork

I have decided to fax the forms, as it’s supposed to take only 4 business days. That meant also finding an internet company to send and receive international faxes (I mean, who has a fax machine any more?) but, hopefully by next week, I’ll be able to tell you whether it’s all worth the effort! I wouldn’t have done it at all but Amazon sent me an email reminder, gently suggesting I get my tax forms sorted or they might take my books off sale. Funny how that motivated me when 30% of very little withheld in tax hadn’t!

I also spent today listening to my book on the laptop. It turns out that Adobe will ‘read’ out a PDF. It’s laborious and mostly done phonetically, which can lead to some odd pronunciations and virtually no correct cadence. But I’ve spotted several typos I wouldn’t have caught any other way, so I’m happy (except at the slow progress: I’m only 15% through).

The funniest part was the voice changing Mia (the lead male’s ex fiancée) to Missing In Action, every single time. She does go MIA in the novel, so it rather tickled me. A nicer proofreading experience than the five queries my hubbie found on page one, when I gave him a copy to check. Given his propensity to tear things apart I’ve had to insist that he keep his comments to typos only. I can’t face another huge rewrite!

Anyway, I’m submerged in a riveting book (Thanks, Rinelle), as well as wracking my brains for an August finale for Two Hundred Steps Home. As September’s only 2 days away, I need to come up with one soon! Best get on …

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Claire stumbled as she exited the lift. Three more staggering steps took her to the door. Even though she had been on dry land for over an hour it still felt like the earth was moving beneath her. Catching at the door frame, she swiped the plastic card and cursed at the red light. After several more attempts the light shone green and she opened the door.

She vaguely registered an en-suite to her left before going through to the bedroom. Without bothering to shut the curtains or undress, Claire climbed beneath the covers and curled into the pillow. Within moments she was asleep.

When she woke, several hours later, her mouth ached with dryness and her body called its urgent need to pee. Claire rolled off the bed, just managing to get her feet to the floor before the rest of her followed in a heap. Feeling the worth of every penny it had cost to stay in the hotel, Claire staggered to the en-suite.

The face in the mirror looked like something from a zombie movie. Claire shut her eyes in horror and reached out to pull on the shaving light, before switching off the harsh overhead spotlights. Ten hours on a ferry had taken their toll. Eyes half closed against the still too-bright light, Claire brushed her teeth and drank some water. Her tummy rumbled but she guessed it was late in the night and her budget didn’t stretch to raiding the mini bar.

A piercing headache stabbed in the base of her skull, intensifying when she accidentally turned on the main lights. Turning them off again, Claire walked to the window and looked at the view of the harbour beneath her. The water appeared calm and, although the sky looked cloudy, it wasn’t raining. It was as if the hellish weather of the last twenty-four hours had ceased to exist, reinforcing the sense of it all being a bad dream.

I’m in Wellington instead of Picton; that alone tells me it wasn’t all some terrible nightmare.

Despite the refund on her ticket and the offer of compensation, Claire wondered how the ferry company could replace her stolen time. She needed to be on the South Island, ticking off tourist sites and making her way to Christchurch and a flight back to the UK. Although she hadn’t yet decided to accept Conor’s job offer, there was no doubt she couldn’t travel for much longer. Every time she used her credit card she waited with in held breath for it to be rejected. When that happened she wanted to be on the right side of a thirty-hour flight home.

Unaccountably wide awake, Claire located her iPad and tried to check her emails. The hotel WiFi was priced for business guests and Claire snorted at the cost. No expenses for her anymore.

I’ll have to wait until morning; go find a café with free Internet. It won’t hurt me to be disconnected from the world for a few more hours.

Claire looked around the large, pristine, hotel room and felt guilty for not offering the spare bed to Bethan. Her friend had opted to return to the hostel, when Claire had declared her intention to treat herself to a proper bed for the night. It had been on her tongue to offer, but a combination of tiredness and a yearning for silence and solitude had held her back. Now it seemed unnecessarily mean.

I’ll find her tomorrow, buy her breakfast.

Feeling her eyelids sinking once more, Claire changed into her pyjamas and climbed into the second bed, enjoying the sensation of clean, tucked in sheets.

***

The Never-ending Edit: 2013 365 Challenge #241

Paper flowers (Mummy to the rescue!)

Today is my daughter’s last day at nursery. A sad day for me, an exciting day for her.

We spent yesterday shopping for flowers for her nursery staff, writing cards and making tags. Little man wanted to get involved, so – after some frantic searching of the craft drawers and a few tears – we also made paper flowers for his key-workers, as he moves rooms now he’s nearly three.

Today also marks my last full nursery day, ever! Readers of this blog will know I view this with fear: I like my eight-hour days twice a week to have some head space and get my writing done.

Knowing this is the last one, I want to make it a productive one. Of course it won’t be. What I really wanted to do was finally to put Baby Blues & Wedding Shoes to bed. Hmmm not sure that’s ever going to happen.

Flowers and tags

In my two hours of preschool time yesterday, I finally finished going through the proof reader’s amends on the Baby Blues manuscript. Hurrah! you might think. Except it wasn’t. Because I’ve realised why you normally have an editor and then a proofreader go through your manuscript.

My lovely proofreader, Sarah Nisbet, actually did more of a light edit than just a check for grammar and spelling errors. As a result I ended up rewriting scenes. Which leads to more potential errors.

I happily loaded the new manuscript to Smashwords just as I was about to collect the children from preschool, only to immediately spot two typos. Given how tired I’ve been for most of August I’m sure there are plenty more. So now I have to read it through again and try to spot mistakes, which is fiendishly hard in your own work! I’m also scared to read the book through again, as I’ll want to change more and more things. I know this isn’t the best book ever written and, following on from the free book debate, I feel like I’m letting down every other self-published author if I publish a book that isn’t outstanding.

I long for the day when I can afford a structural edit, a final edit and a proof read, though I can’t see when it’s coming.

Shopping for flowers

The general view on the cheap and free book debate was that it goes hand in hand with the poorly-edited mistake-ridden books of the self published author and how both are potentially career ending. Maybe I should have published under a pseudonym, thus giving myself the option of a fresh start should it all go wrong.

In the meantime I’m seriously considering having the book converted to an audio book so I can at least save my eyes when I run through it again. Has anyone ever done that? I’d be interested to hear your views. I have so many books I want to read right now, mine just isn’t one of them. I know how it ends for a start!

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All around was chaos. Children screamed, parents shouted and still the ship rocked. Claire dug her fingers into the arm rests and concentrated on not vomiting. She sensed Bethan looking round, calmly assessing the situation, trying to ascertain what was going on. A tiny part of Claire’s mind envied the girl’s calm, while the rest was grateful for it. At least one of them could stay together in a crisis.

Eventually Bethan got up and went to peer out of the window, gripping onto chairs for support as the boat pitched around like a fairground ride. Claire closed her eyes and waited for her new friend to return. When she felt a touch on her arm she jumped, and Bethan’s squeal made them both laugh.

“Sorry, you scared me,” Claire said through gritted teeth. “What’s happening?”

“We’re in Picton, as far as I can tell, but we haven’t docked. It looks like we might have hit the wharf. They’re scurrying around out there like rats.”

Claire glanced around the ferry. “Not much difference in here.”

She stopped talking as a voice came over the loud-speaker. Straining to hear the words above the hubbub, Claire groaned as they sunk into her foggy brain.

“We apologise for the delay. We are unable to dock due to some damaged sustained to the docking equipment. Please remain seated and we will keep you updated.”

Dropping her head back against the seat, Claire heaved out a sigh.

Great.

Two hours passed, and then three. The same announcement came across the tannoy, asking them to remain calm, informing them that every effort was being made to allow them to disembark. The children around them had mostly fallen asleep, or were plugged into iPods and tablets. Claire was surprised no one was handing out free drinks or food, not that she could have eaten anything. Despite its lack of forward motion, the ferry still rolled around until Claire had forgotten what it meant to be still.

When the tannoy crackled into life again, Claire barely heard the words, until one stood out.

“… Wellington. Once more we sincerely apologise for the inconvenience.”

The cabin erupted. All around her, adults began talking, gesturing, demanding to see a manager. People talked of missed appointments and events. The children, sensing adventure, came to life, adding their yells and screams to the mayhem.

Claire turned to Bethan for more information and saw the girl grinning. Is she ever bothered by anything?

“Why is everyone so upset?” Claire stretched, conscious of just how long she had sat in the same chair, without food or drink. “Aren’t we getting off? I need to pee.”

“No, we’re not getting off.” Bethan laughed, quietly, drawing frowns from the passengers around her. “We’re going back to Wellington.”

***

Yet another self-publishing guide: Editing (amykeeley.wordpress.com)
Is Anything Ever 100% Perfect? (joannegphillips.wordpress.com)
Editing Adventures in Vonnie-Land (lesbianauthors.wordpress.com)

The Unexpected Good Day: 2013 365 Challenge #240

Bungyjumping toys

Today I had one of those marvellous things known as the unexpected good day.

Normally by day five with no break from the kids I’m ready to quit and the shouting has started before breakfast (especially after a long bout of insomnia such as I seem to be having at present).

But, thanks to my gorgeous hubbie taking the kids until 8am and bringing me breakfast in bed, leaving me to read my new Rinelle Grey book, that didn’t happen.

The day got better.

One of my very good friends was free to come over with her two littluns, thus motivating me to clean my house for the first time in a fortnight. I even did the upstairs, even though we close the stair-gate when she comes, as she has a baby. I did have to jump in the shower as she arrived, but husband got back to fill the breach in manners.

Butter wouldn’t melt!

The kids were amazing.

Normally my daughter ignores her friend and plays with the baby, leaving my son to be the gentleman. But the baby was going through a Mummy-or-bust phase and, instead of being upset, my gorgeous daughter went and played with the others. They were quiet. For a whole hour. We kept checking on them but they were squirreled away in the top of the playhouse.

We fed them, they still didn’t come down. We offered frozen yoghurt. They came and ate them, then went back out.

I haven’t had such a good gossip in ages. Even the baby sat in the high chair and ate fruit. I think they were bewitched. I offered to tidy up their toys in gratitude for my morning chat, and discovered two sleds, two scooters and three helmets in the playhouse loft. I’m quite glad I found out after!

In the afternoon we made cakes as a thank you for their excellent behaviour, then they played some more while I did ironing. I hate ironing! But I enjoyed the sense of getting ahead of myself while watching them play circus games through the window.

Monkey tricks

Tea in front of the TV – another thank you gesture from me – and they went off to play music with Daddy while I responded to the great ‘free book’ debate sparked by yesterday’s post.

Now I’m walking the dog, dodging tractors, and later I’m sending hubbie to pick up Chinese as I’ve forgotten to buy food this week. A perfect end to a perfect day. I’m enjoying the moment, seeing as it doesn’t happen very often!

Wishing you all a happy, productive, perfect day soon x

P.S. In case you were wondering what bad karma would hit me for speaking of my great day, it came in the form of the Chinese. Our favourie and second favourite takeaways were both closed after the bank holiday and the only other one in the town isn’t the best! Still, a hot meal I didn’t cook and that didn’t generate washing up is alright by me. Prawn cracker anyone?

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Claire gripped the arm rests and closed her eyes. The feeling grew stronger and her eyelids flew open again. The nausea was easier to control if she kept her eyes fixed on the seat in front. Next to her Bethan chuckled.

“You’ve gone green. I don’t think I’ve actually seen anyone go green before. Do you need a bag?”

Claire didn’t dare speak through her gritted teeth so she shook her head; the tiny movement made her head swim. She was only grateful that Bethan wasn’t taunting her for declining her offer of seasickness tablets when they left Wellington. It was too late now. Even if there was time for them to start working, Claire was certain she couldn’t open her mouth long enough to swallow anything: the only thing preventing her from vomiting over the seat in front was the clenched grip of her jaw muscles.

“It’s a shame the weather’s so bad,” Bethan said, as if they were waiting at a bus stop in the rain, “because the crossing is really beautiful. Normally you can stand on deck and envy all the bastards living in the tiny cottages dotted about the sound. Some of them have meandering paths down to the water, with a boat moored up for that essential trip to town.”

It was fortunate that her new friend seemed happy to chatter without getting a response, because Claire only heard half the words. The guide book had waxed lyrical about the beauty of the Queen Charlotte Sound. Frankly Claire was only interested in reaching dry land and never getting on a boat again.

Another wave crashed into the row of windows ten metres in front of them. The wave soaked the glass from top to bottom as if someone had chucked a bucket of soapy water at it. Around her, Claire heard children whooping and laughing.

This isn’t a fairground ride. Honestly, how can people let their kids run riot. Never mind how annoying it is, they might get hurt.

As if to prove her point, the ferry pitched forwards as it dropped into another hole in the ocean. One of the younger children fell sideways and bumped her head, letting out an eardrum-bursting shriek. Part of Claire, the part not consumed by the urge to put her fingers in her ears and sob, felt sorry for the child’s parents. The thought of taking such a journey with Sky brought to mind a whole new level of hideousness.

The bucking bronco boat ride seemed to be nearing its end. Out the window Claire could just make out the rising cliffs of the sound. Hope surged in her breast and she began to gather her things.

“Don’t be fooled. We won’t be there for ages yet. Even on a calm day it takes time to negotiate the sound. Although the water will be calmer, the journey will be affected by the weather. You don’t want us to crash into the cliff, do you?”

Bethan laughed and Claire found herself going off her new friend. Maybe it was being the right side of twenty-five, or maybe it was spending her life travelling, but Bethan was far less fazed by things than she was. She glanced at her watch and was surprised to see they had already been travelling for several hours.

Today is not a day I would choose to be longer at sea than necessary. Maybe I should have checked the forecast before agreeing to go south with Bethan. So much for her intention to stay in the capital: she has more changes of plans in a day than I have cups of coffee, and that’s saying something.

Claire looked over at her travelling companion. Bethan had headphones in and her eyes closed. A smile flickered on her lips as she bobbed her head in time to silent music. In a strange way Claire felt comforted by her peacefulness.

Trying to follow Bethan’s lead, Claire risked ducking her head to find her phone deep in the recesses of her bag. After the third attempt she located it and selected the most soothing music she could find. With a cello concerto filling her ears, drowning out the raucous cries of the pack of wild children, Claire felt the flutter of agitation start to settle. She rested her head against the seat and was just drifting off when the boat lurched suddenly and listed to one side.

Claire’s eyes flew open. “What the hell happened?”

Bethan took her earphones out and looked around. With a shrug that only served to increase Claire’s panic, she said, “I think we hit something.”

***

Should Books ever be Free? 2013 365 Challenge #239

The Inflatable Slide

There’s an ongoing debate amongst self-published authors (potentially all authors but I can only speak for Indies) about the merits of making an ebook cheap or even free for a short period of time.

For an unknown author, making use of something like the KDP Select Program, with its five free days every three months, can be a great way to get your name out there.

Even if no one reads your book after they’ve downloaded it for free – and I’m sure the majority don’t (I only ready about 10% of those I download for free) – the giveaways increase your Amazon rankings and make you appear in the ‘also bought’ section at the bottom.

The more relaxed Bouncy Castle

Whether this gives you sales you wouldn’t have achieved anyway, with self-belief and patience (not traits I have in abundance), is possibly debatable, but I know I wouldn’t have sold 7 copies in Germany this month if I hadn’t appeared on some German website during my last free promo. Dragon Wraiths reached No 1 in Fantasy during the three-day promotional period and it boosted sales tremendously, if only for a short time.

The effect of the other element – pricing cheaply – is harder to grasp. Authors like Amanda Hocking have made their fortune with a 99c price point, but only through lots and lots of hard work, promotion and through writing lots of books.

Equally I have heard compelling arguments to say pricing too cheap can affect people’s perspective of your credibility as an author. It’s hard to utilise free alongside low pricing, as the KDP Select Program prevents you from pricing as low as 99c, so I have little direct experience of a low price point.

In another dog show

Therefore these are not questions I have answers to. Catherine, Caffeinated has a great post on why Indie authors need to price low, even though she also wrote the post above about why you should charge as much as you can. If she does’t know the answer, with her wealth of experience, I’m certainly unlikely to figure it out. I imagine it is different for every author, book and personality type (ie how much patience is on offer).

The reason it popped into my head today was due to a trip to our local village fete. The kids wanted to go on the bouncy castle and the inflatable slide. The castle was £2 for as long as they liked. The slide was £1.50 for three goes.

Most parents and kids came away from the busy bouncy castle feeling happy that they’d received value for money. We all came away from the half-empty inflatable slide, and the miserable lady ushering the kids off after their three goes, feeling grumpy and hard done by.

Our Young Handler, 4th place

Just because the castle man was giving away more, it didn’t devalue the experience. I suspect he made more money even though the kids were on the castle for ages for their two quid: there’s nothing like a castle full of giggling bouncing children to entice others to have a go. No one went on the inflatable slide twice, they just went elsewhere.

Part of being an author is about building a brand. If you give your book for free, so what? It means people have a chance to read your book who probably wouldn’t otherwise. If people like what they read they’ll come back for more, even if it isn’t free. If they don’t like it, you’ve lost nothing. Yes you get bad reviews but you get those anyway (or I certainly do)!

Anyway, these are just my thoughts! What are your views on cheap and free? Does it make you think the book won’t be worth reading, or does it encourage you to discover new authors?

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It surprised Claire how much more fun it was wandering around a museum with someone else, particularly someone knowledgeable who also had a sense of humour. Bethan proved herself well versed in the history of the country and the Maoris, adding snippets of information and reducing the amount of sign-reading Claire had to do.

The Te Papa museum was vast, with everything from Maori dancing to space exploration. Claire’s feet throbbed and her mind swirled with the myriad of information crammed into it. And it was free! When she thought about the money she’d spent on tours and experiences since arriving in the country, and here was this amazing facility at no cost. Even so, it was definitely time for a break, before her legs dropped off.

“Enough! Don’t you ever stop?” Claire stood with her hands on her hips as Bethan tried to drag her outside to see the ponds.

“We’ve only seen about half. Come on, wus, don’t stop now. What else is there to do? It’s tipping it down outside.”

Claire smiled at the strangely English colloquialisms coming from the Asian face in an America accent. Bethan’s history intrigued her, not least because she hadn’t shared a single thing about herself apart from the stay in the States.

“A coffee, please? Just a coffee break. I need caffeine.”

“It’s not good for you, you know? Much better to drink fruit juice or, better still, water.”

Claire pulled a face. “I wouldn’t live longer, it would just feel like it. Okay, I’ll have a latte and you can drink green tea.”

It was her turn to drag Bethan, as she towed the girl towards the coffee shop. It was crowded, like the whole museum, and Claire sincerely hoped they would find a seat.

Trust me to be in the capital on a bank holiday weekend. Why couldn’t I have been in river valley or somewhere else devoid of people? Rain or no rain, I might have to brave the Cook Strait crossing tomorrow.

As if reading her mind, it was Bethan’s first question when they eventually found a seat. ”When will you get back on the bus? Are you taking the ferry or flying to the South Island?”

“Ferry, I guess. Whichever is cheaper.”

“I wouldn’t fancy flying in this weather. It’s a nasty crossing on a good day.”

“You sound like you’ve done it before?” Claire sipped at her coffee and felt the warmth and caffeine spread through her body.

“I have. This is my second tour of the country. I did it all too quickly the first time round.” She blushed and Claire wondered what the story was. She raised an eyebrow, inviting confidences, but Bethan only shook her head and laughed.

“Are you staying in Wellington for a while?”

Bethan smiled, seemingly glad of the change of subject. “I should. I need to work. Funds are running low again, and it will be easier to find a job here in the city.” She frowned. “I’d rather not, though. One city is pretty much the same as another after a while. I miss the mountains.”

Remembering something Mitch had said, Claire asked, “Couldn’t you get work at one of the ski resorts, or down in Queenstown?”

Bethan shook her head. “I don’t ski. Besides …” She hesitated and Claire again suspected there was a story there.

Maybe she’ll feel able to tell me later.

It felt good to have some female company, to gossip – even if it was a bit one sided. Claire had told Bethan about Carl and Michael, work and Kim. Something about the way the girl actively listened made Claire share her life history with her.

Sitting with Bethan, laughing at silly things that they had seen or done during the morning, Claire felt a pang of sadness. It felt like old times with Kim. She wondered if she would ever have them again.

***