Rose McClelland - Published Author!

Hello there! Just wanted to write a follow up on my last post:  

It has only been five weeks since then and yet it feels like much longer (in a good way!)

It’s good for me to ‘check-in’ on what’s been happening, so that I can look back one day and say, ‘oh yeah, I remember that, that was so cool’.

So here goes.

Release day – 6 April – A text from my sister Ruth woke me up at 6.30am –

“I bought it! I bought it!”

I sprang out of bed and was on my laptop before I could say “Coffee”.
Loads of lovely messages were coming in from my friends on Facebook telling me that they had bought the book.

By lunchtime I was receiving an email from my publisher saying that the book was showing early signs of reaching the Top 100 in Women’s fiction.  Over the moon, I trotted off to Café Vaudeville to meet friends Laura and Lisa for a celebratory lunch.  By the time we had finished lunch, the book was sitting at number 45! It was fantastic.

That evening I went out for the night with friends and halfway through the evening checked my phone to discover it was now at number 35! Okay, I won’t lie, I was checking my phone constantly. I can now see why people can end up with a gambling addiction – the adrenalin of checking one’s ratings is quite a buzz.

Anyway, here’s a summary of all the lovely reviews and articles that have taken place in just five weeks.  I feel very grateful indeed!

LONDONDERRY SENTINEL: here

BELFAST TELEGRAPH: here

REA BOOK REVIEWS: here

PAGE BOOKSHELF CENTRAL: here

DERRY JOURNAL: here

CHICK-LIT CENTRAL: here

CHICK LIT PLUS here

TRASHIONISTA here and here

HELLO YOU - YASMIN SELENA BLOG: here

MICHELLE BETHAM BLOG: here

My book has also received gorgeous reviews on Amazon.co.uk and Amazon Worldwide.
You can check the reviews out here:
and for US/ Worldwide here:

The book is at a discounted this weekend as part of a Crooked Cat May sale so grab it while you can!

To finish, I am going to tell you about the Sunday World article.  This was a lovely full page article (except for a panel of advertising along the side) on my book. I have not posted this article before because, being the usual self-critical person that I am, I was unsure about the photo.  Let me tell you about this photo-shoot.  The lovely Eavan Murray of the Sunday World phoned me and said, “Oh hi Rose, any chance you can be at the Belfast Telegraph in ten minutes to get your photo taken?” Knowing that one has to grab an opportunity when it arises, I legged it down Royal Avenue, in the pouring rain, worrying about the frizz issue with my hair and the fact that I’d had no time to fix my make-up.  It’ll be grand, I thought. They’ll give me ten minutes to sort my hair out.

No.
The photographer was waiting around the side entrance of The Belfast Telegraph.  He was all smiles and very encouraging about my book. But he was also a pro and didn’t waste too much time hanging around. “Dump your bags there and we’ll take a few quick pics”.

“But what about my make-up?” I asked, in a helpless little voice.
“You’re grand!”

So he had me leaning against walls, jumping over puddles and doing all sorts of poses *without my full slap on*.  This is incredible as normally I don’t even make it to the corner shop without the full face painted! And there, in full glory to all and sundry of Belfast, a humongous photo was sprawled across the page.

However, I am not blaming the photographer – the camera never lies and all that malarkey, and he could only work with what was presented to him, so no, I am not blaming him at all.

Also their choice of photo blended in quite well with the lovely optimistic inspirational article that Eavan kindly wrote.

So I AM GOING TO BE BRAVE AND POST THE PHOTO TO SHOW YOU ALL.

Because, let’s face it, it’s not every day you get your bake in the Sunday newspaper.

Oh, and because of the article, all the lovely Northern Irish people went online and bought the book, pushing the ratings back up into the Top 100  :o)

Oh my goodness! I forgot to tell you the BIGGEST news of all!

My SECOND novel has now also been approved for publication!

Crooked Cat will release "How To Look Like You" on 5th July 2012.

Here's the blurb!

How To Look Like You

Have you ever had a frenemy? Someone you smile at sweetly but secretly you are filled with jealousy? Meet Chloe and Ella.

While Chloe sees herself as dowdy, quiet and going nowhere, Ella is brimming with talents: acting, singing, and outward-sitting, bronzed boobs.

Yet, Ella envies Chloe’s steady relationship with Aidan, her stick-thin figure and her perfectly poised style. As a result, Ella feels overweight, over-single and over-the-hill.

As Ella begins to work alongside Aidan, she develops feelings she shouldn’t have. When he invites her to join his band, it’s no surprise Chloe reacts by slamming the door off the handle.

Then Chloe begins a strategy of her own: Operation Simon. If she starts to go out more often with the bloke from work, surely Aidan would take notice?

Will Aidan smell Simon’s advances? Will Chloe and Aidan’s shared plans go ahead?

Will Ella become a friend or an enemy?

Find out How To Look Like YOU.

So does this mean I'm a Published Author?!

Right, hang on a minute, let me just check something… I have written a book – check. It is sitting on Amazon – check.  It is published by Crooked {Cat} – check. I have an Amazon Author page – check. I even have a Goodreads author page! I guess I must be a published author – right?

Hold on a minute while I just look around me, pinch myself until I’m purple and make sure it’s really true.

I must be, mustn’t I?

This should be the dream sequence, with the full blown orchestra and me sitting on cloud nine, but I’ve just pinched myself, and it’s still me. I’m just the same, but different.

I am going to let you into a secret. I have wanted to be a published author for a long time. I don’t know where the dream came from, or the desire, or the inclination. I just wanted to.  And I’m going to let you into an even bigger secret here when I tell you that I used to write the words ‘published author’ in big swirly letters, as though to visualise it happening.

I’m also going to tell you another secret. I told myself that if I ever became a published author, I would play the ‘hallelujah’ song over and over, and that is exactly what I’m doing while I write this blog.

Why am I writing all this? Well because I know the type of me. I know that in a week’s time, or a month’s time, I’ll be off worrying about something else, and sometimes it’s important to sit down and enjoy something: enjoy the moment.

I’m pretty sure that I’ll find something to stress myself out about in the future, like reviews or ratings or whether someone looked at me the wrong way sideways, so just for today, I’m going to lap it up.  I did have a well-meaning friend tell me not to get too ecstatic – I know she was trying to help, but sometimes I think it’s important to really enjoy the milestones.  And this is a milestone.

If I told you that it took me about six years to get here (longer?) and that I have had many times where I had to pick myself up and dust myself off (many, many times) and about the times when I just thought, 'this isn’t going to happen for me, but I’ll just write for enjoyment,' then I would probably be here all day. So what I will say is; it’s a long time coming.

So here’s what I’m going to do today to celebrate: I’m going to go and meet a few friends for lunch. I’m going to treat myself to a new outfit. I’m going to have a nice bath and pamper. I’m going to meet friends for dinner. And later we’re heading on to meet more friends. Later tonight I’m a looking after a little puppy for my friend! And tomorrow night is the Titanic Light show! How very, very kind and thoughtful of them to put on a nice spectacle for me.  I have some people coming over to my apartment and we are going to watch the pretty lights. And that’s that! Good celebrations huh?

When you harbour a dream to have a book published, you are also swamped by a whole lot of fears. The ‘what if’s’.  What if my ex reads it and thinks he recognises himself? What if a family member reads it and finds it a bit too graphic? What if some of the scenes are a bit cringe-tastic and it makes me look really stupid?

It’s funny, really, those fears have melted away and they don’t seem so important anymore.

But, before time wears on, and I start worrying about something else or another, I thought I’d take a moment to sit and cherish the things that have been super-cool so far about the published author thing.

1. Meeting complete strangers on facebook – people who have seen my release date and have pressed ‘attend’, even though I don’t know them from Adam.  Having new friends on my facebook.
2. Meeting fellow Crooked Cat authors.
3. Meeting other writers on Facebook and Twitter.
4. Working with “my publisher” who is very cool and helpful.
5. Getting an email with my ISBN number on it.
6. Having an “Amazon author” page.
7. Having a “Goodreads author” page.
8. Being on the list of “our authors” on the Crooked Cat website.
9. Having my book actually being READ instead of hiding in a bottom drawer!
10. Having people say, “Haha! I really identified with that character! That made me laugh!”  

For me, it really is a Good Friday :o)

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Rose-McClelland/e/B007RB84KI/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

http://crookedcatpublishing.com/our-authors/rose-mcclelland

Break up Test

http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Break-Up-Test-ebook/dp/B007QVI28I/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1333724632&sr=1-1

The day I abseiled off the tallest building in Belfast!

Saturday Night At The Movies – Perfect Day - (From 'Trainspotting')

Not sure I’m going to post this blog – I think I have yammed on enough about my abseil, but I did want to write something for my own memories. After all, it’s not every day I scale off a 289 foot building.  I think I’ll just relive it for myself. So that when I’m old and grey, I’ll remember the day I took the leap of faith.

It was a Sunday morning.  The weather couldn’t have been better.  Clear blue skies, not a wisp of wind in the air, not a drizzle of rain in sight.  Perfect viewing conditions. And that was one of my main reasons for doing it.  The view.  I live on the 12^th floor of a 27 floor building. I’ve had a nosey in floor 22 and in 27 briefly, but I did want a chance to take in the view the whole way down.

Let me skip to the best bit.

The top.

I don’t know whether to tell you about the amazing view, or the way that the professional trainers hurriedly took us through our training before we could change our minds, or the fact that there were ropes and scaffolding and men in hard hats everywhere.  There was just this *Gulp* feeling.  As though am I really up here? As though none of it was really real.  And how on earth can you appreciate a view when you know you’re about to chuck yourself off the ledge?

I had woken at three in the morning in a panic.  Prior to this I had been cool as cucumber.  After all, I’ve done a bunjee jump and a zip line, how hard can it be? But why is that the terrors always strike at three a.m.? Suddenly I had visions of the edge of the building having no harnessing around it.  How that my foot could just slip and that would be it, I’d tumble to my death.  You know, dramatic stuff like that.  I had to listen to my relaxation CD three times to get myself back to sleep.

On the lift on the way up, there were four of us.  Two guys and two girls.  The other girl was cacking it.  I even gave her a little hug which is not something I do to strangers.  Perhaps I looked like I was cacking myself too.  The blokes looked nervous also and very kindly told us girls that we could go first.

But it didn’t work out like that.  There was the training, blah-de-blah about ropes in a figure of eight, about what distance to keep your feet apart and a thing about not bouncing and not holding your head too far back and again it was just all noise.  There was just the *gulp* thing. As though I had held my breath and wasn’t it a shame I wasn’t standing there and taking a moment to enjoy the view and point out the Odyssey and the Titanic and Victoria Square.  It was just *gulp*.

Then the next thing I was being guided along a rope after one of the blokes so it seemed I was going second. 

There was a scaffolding, and someone fiddling about with my harness.  A rope was being clipped to me and I thought, I guess this is nearly it then, I guess I am going second. 

There was a bloke and a ledge, and the ledge was thick and for a split second I saw a long way down and I thought, oh god.  My breathing went a bit funny then and I felt a little bit weak, so I said to the guy, ‘can I just sit down for a minute?’  He said ‘of course,’ so I sat down and thought, oh god why do I do these things? Why?  Why can’t I just settle myself with a nice cup of tea and Corrie like normal people?

I said ‘sorry’ to the guy, but he said, ‘that’s okay, it’s quite natural’.  He did however, keep fiddling about with my rope and doing things to my harness as though he was expecting me to get on with it in a minute.  I noticed that the bloke who was going first was flat on his tummy on the ledge, legs spewing out after him and I thought, oh god, he looks terrified.  I had to look away.  But I have to say, this was all very quick and very not real.  I had no real time to feel like I wanted to boke, because the guy who was fiddling with my rope was saying, ‘what’s your name?’  I told him ‘Rose’.  I asked him what his name was. ‘Tom’.  See, even under duress and high pressure, I kept my manners by making conversation.  He said, ‘have you done this before?’  ‘No, have you?’  ‘Oh yes, many times’, he smiled.  Tom then said, ‘you need to take your hand off the scaffolding now and lean your tummy on the ledge’. 

‘Eh? What? You want me to go now?  I thought I was going after that bloke?’

No, you’re going here.  This is your ledge.

Oh jeez.

Right.  Right. Okay. 

So somehow, somehow, I let go off my hand and my tummy ended up on the ledge.  I have no idea how this happened.  It is a black-out.  I actually can’t remember it.  All I can remember is that the girl after me was watching me and the colour was draining from her face and she looked terrified.  

Something took over me then.  Something inside me said, oh dear, this probably looks worse than it actually is, so just as I was sliding my body backwards off the safety of the ledge, I was calling out to her and saying, “Don’t worry Edna! It’s not as bad as it looks! I swear!”

I’m pretty sure Tom was looking at me like I was a nut-job, and then that was that, I was off! Somehow I was hanging in mid-air and I was seeing that view. 

Except I still couldn’t enjoy the view because I was still in *gulp* mode, and I was still supposed to be doing something, right? Oh yes, that’s right, I was supposed to be feeding the rope through my right hand.

Right then, I’m feeding it through, and I’m moving, and I’m seeing the first window, and I’m actually doing it, I am actually abseiling! Oh my god!!

Don’t forget to enjoy the view Rose, remember the view, oh yes, right, right.

Hmmm. 

God this is hard work.  I am moving like a snail.  This is nothing like a bunjee jump.  Are you fripping kidding me?  I am going to be hanging here forever if I keep moving as slow as this.

Oh look that must be floor 26. Good, that’s progress. 

Floor 25 is ages later.  Oh dear, I better stop counting floors or I’m going to be sick.  The view, just look at the view.  The bridge.  Oh look, there’s the bridge that Teresa and I walked over last night on our way home from the cinema.    Oh look in that window there.  Isn’t their cream sofa nice?  Lovely.  And those flowers are gorgeous too.  Oh, look at all those newspapers stuffed behind their sofa.  Oh my god, am I really noticing papers stuffed behind a sofa? I am mid-air, I can hardly breathe!  Sing.  That would be a good idea. Sing.  ‘Take the shackles from my feet so I can dance, I just wanna praise you.. I just praise you..’

So I sang, and I talked to myself, and I felt grateful that I could do this.  That I was healthy enough to get up on a Sunday morning to abseil down a building, that I was grateful for everyone who had sponsored me, that it was a good charity, all that. This went on for ever.

Then the next thing, I heard cheering! I heard Shauna, it was definitely her cheer, and I looked down, and I saw them all! Clapping their hands off!

And then the rope just seemed to feed through my hand effortlessly, I was practically gliding down.  The two blokes at the bottom were there to catch me.  There was a bit of conversation with them, were I asked them if they had ever done it, and their hesitant reply made me realise they hadn’t.  And that was that! It was done! I was climbing down the ladder, there was a lovely lady from the charity thanking me for doing it and thanking me for raising the money for their charity and there was a certificate put into my hand, my hand that was shaking like a leaf.
And whilst I will never, ever do it again, I have to say, I was in an exceptionally good mood for the rest of the day.  A serotonin high. I treated myself to a guilt-free snickers duo.  I went for a glorious long walk in the sun, I met with friends that night for dinner, it was a perfect day.

The day I signed my publishing agreement!

It was a day like any other; a Monday in-fact.  Monday 13^th February.  

I had gone out for dinner the night before with a bunch of Greeks and Brazilians.  I was settling into my usual weekly work routine.  I was keeping an eye on my email, I will be honest.  I had sent the full manuscript of my novel “The Break-Up Test” to a publisher. Yes, they’d liked my synopsis and first three chapters, and they’d asked to see the full thing, so I was hopeful.  Hopeful - yes; expectant – no. 

My boss was chatting to me when I opened my email.  I saw the words ‘contract offer’ in the subject header and I had to look away.  I was too scared to read it in-case I was imagining things. 

When my boss stopped talking, I opened the email.  I saw the words ‘…found it well-written.. humorous… imaginative…’  There is a very fast hold-breath moment when you see words dancing across the page like that.  And then I saw ‘… I would like to congratulate you by offering a contract for its publication’.

The rest of the email was very long indeed and there were two attachments but I have to say, I didn’t read them properly.  Instead I opened my mouth in shock and said to my boss, ‘I’ve just got a publishing offer!’

‘No way!’ he said.  (Okay then, he might have said something a lot stronger than that).

Then followed a phone-call to my sister; tears; texts to my mum, brother and a couple of others.  All were sworn to secrecy until I had signed the contract, gotten over the shock and had a chance to accept that this might be real.

I was elated.

And I knew to savour every last moment.

It all sounds pretty quick, huh?  It was, and yet it wasn’t.  Because prior to that was six years hard slog.  Getting promising letters from agents and even managing to secure an agent.  Following that came feedback from publishers.  Comments like ‘we love this and just want to read it for pleasure but our hands are tied; we simply have no room on our list for women’s fiction’. 

Banging one’s head against the wall would be the closest analogy.

And then came a discussion. Camped around the dining room table with my brother Dave http://www.davidmcclelland-photography.com/ and his girlfriend Dee http://afternoondlite.com/, they talked to me about e-publishing.  About how times are changing.  About how the kindle is the new paperback.  And I thought to myself, ‘Listen… Just listen to them and try to keep an open mind.  They are trying to help and maybe, just maybe, they are right’.

Whilst talking, the name ‘Crooked Cat’ http://crookedcatpublishing.com/, jumped into my head. I had dealt with them before when I had reviewed one of their books by author Trevor Belshaw http://www.trevorbelshaw.com/ for Judging Covers http://judgingcovers.co.uk/.  I found their approach with me as a reviewer friendly, proactive and enthusiastic.  I liked them.  Also I saw that they were looking for submissions.  And that’s when I decided to submit to them.  I sat in Starbucks after work until 9pm for a few nights until the submission was complete.  And then off it went.  Pronto. 

Some time later, I was signing my name on the dotted line and I’m very happy.  I’ve no idea what will happen with my writing journey from hereon but I’m glad of this;  I’m glad that I kept persevering, having faith, and most of all, having an open mind when a well-meaning friend said, ‘what about trying this?’   

The Three B's - Brighton, Belfast & Bed

The Three B’s – Brighton, Belfast, and Bed

Recently I travelled to Brighton for a week to celebrate my sister’s 40^th birthday. Here are some of my highlights.

Taking a dander around the Laines

Most mornings, my travelling companions slept late, so I had the sneaky bliss of taking a dander on my lonesome to soak up the Brighton air.  The smell of the sea, the sound of the seagulls, the brightly coloured houses, the dinky little shops selling all sorts of creative knick-knacks – these moments were precious to me.  Stopping for a coffee, watching the world go by, soaking up the atmosphere and recharging my batteries before a busy day with the girls. Isn’t it wonderful to people-watch and see others scurrying by when you have sod-all on your agenda?

Catching up with old friends

I used to live in Brighton many a moon ago (well, six years to be exact), so it was nice to meet up with old friends and bump into people I used to hang out with.  We met at the Pavillion, we sat in the gardens drinking tea, I met babies that now belonged to previously singleton friends, and I heard all the news about how things have moved on.

And then I went to the pier.

It was at the pier that I went on this amazing ride.

The Booster. 

On this ride you can see my feet dangling off the edge of the seat.  That one yellow harness was the thing that saved me from catapulting into the sea.  The following picture shows you how high up my seat went:

So when the seat went up the way up there, it stopped, for ages.  And I had a very nice view over Brighton.  Lots of lights everywhere, it was really pretty cool.  The seat then moved forward, spinning me around again and again so I was doing somersaults simultaneously.  Fantastic!  It then went back to the top again and paused for another while.  But this time it rotated my seat forward so that all I could see where the people down below on the pier, my feet swinging off the edge of the chair and the strange observation of ‘this must be what it’s like to hang out a window’.   (I know, I'm strange). Off again I went, spinning around and around until I was back down again on ground level.  Now don’t get me wrong, other people think I am brave, and yet I have been known to run out of restaurants like a loon because a wasp is hovering over me.  Rollercoaster/ adventure rides don’t scare me in the slightest though.  I (perhaps wrongly) have a very calm sense of ‘this has been tested, I will be okay, nothing can go wrong’.  It did also show me though that once you get your head around something, you can do anything.  If your head is in the right mind-set, then you really can do anything.  Sometimes something scary will face me (to do with moving house or my job) and then I catch myself on and think, ‘now hold on Rose, if you can hover over the sea with only a yellow harness between you and falling, I think you can handle this’.

B&B

For two of the nights, I stayed in a B&B.  Here was the view I had from my window:

I do love a B&B.  Why is that?  Afterall, it’s only a bed, a kettle, a few sachets of coffee and a toilet, yet I always feel like I’m spoiling myself when I stay away somewhere.  And, lovely as it was to see my family, there are tons of them, so it is nice to know that when I got too tired and it was too late, I could slink off to my little abode.  The room had a TV, a DVD player and a huge selection of DVDs – so it was nice to come home from a night out, have a shower, and then curl up in bed with a good film.

Now, I’m going on a bit aren’t I?  But I’m nearly finished.   The real beauty of my trip away is that I discovered how much I love Belfast.  Yes it was nice to go away but yes it was even nicer to come home again.  I realised how much I have settled myself in Belfast over the last 6 years.  I realised how many really good friends I have here.  Friends I can rely on day and night.  I realised how much I love my job – a job it took me a few years to find.  And I realise how much I love my home.  Such gratitude is a gift.  In the past I have always been running away from myself, desperate to go here, there and everywhere, thinking that I’d be happy there, or I’d be happy there.  It’s a gift to realise I’ve actually contented myself somewhere for a change. 

So Belfast, as wet and rainy as it occasionally is, is my lovely home.  Small enough to get around easily, big enough to have plenty to do, and most importantly, it’s nice to get back to my own bed.