Beware the Negative Nancy's!

   

Just the other day, someone asked me “How’s the writing going?”

Me, thinking that he was genuinely interested, proceeded to tell him how I was getting on with book #4 and what my plans were to publish it when complete.

The ‘someone’ (let’s call him ‘Negative Nancy’ from here on) then proceeded to swamp me in a load of negative ‘advice’. He said how unrealistic my plans were, how difficult it is to achieve what I wanted to achieve and how that it was highly unlikely that I would reach my goal.

Flummoxed, I was too shocked to respond to his negativity.

I began to wonder why exactly he had asked me how the writing was going.

Was he genuinely interested in what my plans were?

Why was he picking up the first opportunity to try to swamp my dreams with his negativity?

Why ask?

I have yet to understand what the reasoning is behind this.

Maybe people feel the need to protect you from potential disappointment.

Maybe people feel the need to warn you in case you get your hopes too high.

Maybe some people have just no idea about visualisation.

If you are going to spend the time to sit down and write a novel of approx. 80,000 words in length, you NEED to believe that it is going to succeed.

You HAVE to believe that it is going to be the best book you’ve ever written, that it will get the publisher that it deserves and that it will sell well.

YOU HAVE TO DREAM BIG otherwise you won’t have the mental capacity to sit down and write the damn thing.

STAY AWAY FROM NEGATIVE NANCY’S.

Negative Nancy’s do not have the mental capacity to dream big.

They are constantly living in fear, looking over their shoulder, wondering when it will all go wrong.

And Negative Nancy’s want to drag you down in the ditch with them.

RISE ABOVE THEM. Ignore the negativity and DREAM BIG.

You NEED to dream big to give you the mental capacity to put the work in!

Theatre script - "Home~Work"

A friend reminded me about this short play that was put on in the Black Box a couple of years ago. It was fun to read back through it and remember how the actors breathed life into it on the stage. I thought I'd post the script here so do feel free to have a nosy :) It's about a woman, who works from home, noticing another woman who lives across the road. The other woman also works from home. But it seems her work is slightly more interesting than hers, given the number of males coming and going from her house every day...

Home ~ Work

By Rose McClelland

Part One – The Neighbour

(Monologue - to be performed by an actress aged 25-40)

Twenty minutes. I watched them that afternoon. 

Beer belly man left, a smile on his face and a spring in his step. And five minutes later, another guy turned up. Five minutes! I began to wonder did she not give herself time for a quick shower, or a quick change of her knickers for that matter. No, five minutes later client number two arrived. He wasn’t bad looking to be fair. A bit of rough and ready if you like that kind of thing. (I like that kind of thing). A builder-type. In his thirties. He arrived in a white van. It even had the name and phone number of the company sprawled across the van. ‘No job too hard’, the van bragged. (Quite). ‘Busty Boilers’. (Top anonymity here). I was half-tempted to open the door and call “Yoo-hoo! Over here!’ He would look around and I’d be all jokey and flirt and say, “Want it for free over here mister?” but then I thought about it and I thought, I’m in my pyjamas and I’ve no make-up on. Probably not the best look. I also thought – say he’s paying her fifty quid for a quick 20 minutes, I’d need at least a meal and a glass of wine to warm me up. I would even stretch to a boojums and a can of coke but it’d still take longer than twenty minutes. And time was clearly of the essence for him.

While Mister Builder was in, I did the dishes and tidied the kitchen. I couldn’t resist the pull of the window though. The magnetic draw of the drama was too much.

Sure enough, twenty minutes later, Mister Builder bounced out, a spring in his step too. I began to wonder about her services as a professional. Clearly she was very good at what she did if the smile-o-meter was anything to go by. Twenty minutes for a shag and a smile. You had to hand it to her. Last date I went on, it took him three hours to build up the courage to kiss me and then when I discovered he kissed like a frog on a heart attack, it felt like a terrible waste of an evening.

Oh! There’s client three! My word. Tall. Slim. Nice clothes. Very fancy car. This guy was seriously a catch! I began to feel a little jealous. Three times action in one lunch break compared to my [….. pause as though counting…] in how many weeks. [Shrugs shoulders]. Okay, months.

Very intrigued about tall guy. What on earth was he doing paying for sex? Surely he could have anyone?

Then again, I reasoned with myself, say fifty quid for twenty minutes – end result – a shag. Probably tons cheaper than dinner, wine, movie – repeat for at least three dates before she feels it’s okay to have sex. It’s a maths game.

And if we’re still talking maths, she’s had a total of five clients in one lunchtime. Say fifty quid a pop – that’s £250 for one lunchtime’s work.

I think I’m in the wrong job.

I wanted to meet this ‘Lady of the Night’. I wanted to find out ‘why’. Why did she end up in that job? What lead her into it? Did she have a drug problem? Did she have childhood issues? But of course how could I do that without being nosy? I couldn’t exactly say – ‘Oh, I live across the way from your house – I was just wondering if I could borrow a cup of sugar – oh and by the way – what is it that makes you want to work from home as a prostitute?’ Not a very polite opening gambit is it?

Hmm.

However, I did think we had a lot in common. She worked from home, I worked from home. Both of us slobbed around in our pjs (except when she was in her dressing gown). Neither of us had to deal with office politics. Or the commute in the rain. Or getting out of bed before five to nine. So much in common.

But then my entertainment ended. She moved out.

I saw her load all her stuff into a van bit by bit. There was a man helping her. Builder type. I wonder did she pay him in kind. They loaded up the van. She took one last look at her apartment, and she got in her car and left. She looked a bit desolate; like a bird being shoved out of the nest too quickly.

The cul-de-sac seemed very quiet after she left. My friend joked that I should set up a new Lady of the Night business. ‘After all, there’s a gap in the market now’, he laughed.

But then I decided my skanky days of working from home in my pj’s are over. I think I’ll go back to office work. I think I’ll get new high heels and fancy suits and doll myself up in make-up. I think I’ll have a nice routine structure of 9-5. Plus, there’s plenty of men to eye up in the coffee dock. Who knows, maybe one of them will take me out for a quick boojums?

Part Two – The Client

(Monologue - to be performed by an actor aged 35-50)

Twenty minutes. That was the slot she allocated me. It was her special deal, she said. 

Twenty minutes for fifty quid. I suppose she assumed I was one of her cheap-skate clients. The builder types. With the Sun newspaper rolled under one arm and a can of Special Brew in the other. But I wasn’t her typical client. Money isn’t an issue for me. It’s time. I don’t need a three hour slot. I’m in a rush.

I get a six thirty flight most mornings. Meetings from eight thirty onwards. Meetings as late as eight at night. Client dinners. Head hits pillow. Then it’s up an’ at ‘em next day all over again. I employ a lot of people. I generate a lot of tax. I’m not a waster you know.

Okay, I’m being defensive, I know. Look, it’s the biggest cliché in the book. Lonely hotel rooms. Stressful hours. No time to socialise.

But really, don’t judge me.

I’ve no wife. No kids. No girlfriend tucked away that I’m cheating on. I’m just a single guy. I’m not hurting anyone. I’m just away from home a lot.

Yeah, I guess I’m lonely.

Some might say I’m a good looking guy. Tall. Nice clothes. Nice car. I suppose I appear a ‘catch’. But I’m never in the same place long enough.

I’ve tried the online dating thing. Do you know how hard it actually is to get a date off one of those things?

You send her a message. She replies. You get a bit of banter going. And then she suddenly stops. Blocks you. For whatever reason, I don’t know.

Or say you actually get to the stage where you arrange a coffee date. You keep the banter going. You walk on thin ice. You make sure you don’t say anything which she’ll misread or suddenly block you for.

And then, just before the coffee date, she suddenly cancels. Claims a sudden cold. Or a sudden important meeting. Or the death of her pet hamster. Or just doesn’t bother contacting at all. So you’re sat in a coffee shop, wasting valuable time.

The list goes on. Say she does turn up. She’s two stone heavier than her picture. Or ten years older. Or just the same, but less… sparkly.

Once in a while, a miracle occurs. She turns up. She looks good. There’s good banter with her. But that’s it – just a coffee. Do you know how many dates it takes to wine and dine a woman into bed? And how much money? Too much. Don’t get me wrong, I’d be happy to do it, if I was in the same town for long enough. But I’m not. One week it’s Belfast. The next it’s Dublin. Then it’s London. Sometimes even New York at times. What do I work at?
Er… client confidentiality here?

So in Belfast I now see Sasha.

London; it’s Tanya.

Dublin; it’s Eva.

Yes, it’s weird. Yes, it feels strange. Especially when they remind you that time’s up. That’s harsh. Do you know how much pressure it puts on a guy to perform on time?

It’s a bit like the time I went to a counsellor. Just when we were chatting great and I thought we were getting on well, she looked at the clock and said, “Well that’s the time up for today”. I was in the middle of a big confession. It felt like a slap in the face. I never went back to her after that.

But I do go back to Sasha.

And Tanya.

And Eva.

I did ask Sasha once if she wanted to be my ‘only one’. My courtesan – I think is what it’s called.

She laughed in my face. “Your girlfriend, you mean?”

Well no, I said. I explained the terms. She’d come with me. Accompany me to each town. Be there on my down time.

“That’s a girlfriend”, she persisted.

“Well if you want to call it that”, I told her.

“And sit around all day waiting for you? No thanks”. She said it with a smile to show me she was joking. But I liked that about her. A bit of spark. She wasn’t afraid to argue back.

I’m working on her. One of these days she’ll succumb and be my one and only.

Part Three – The Escort

(Monologue - to be performed by an actress aged 25-35)

Twenty minutes, I told him. It’s just fifty quid for twenty minutes. They always take the twenty minutes option. Even if it’s one hour for one hundred, they’ll still take the twenty minutes. Suits me grand. It’s easier to get them in and out again (pardon the pun). If I can bunch three or four clients into one lunch time, then that’s me done for the day and I can relax.

It’s like I’m in actress mode, I tell myself. All actresses have to perform. My performance is just a slightly different genre.

Sometimes I take a drink to relax myself. Or a tablet. But generally I depend on my acting skills to kick in.

Stage One – Meet and greet. Big smile, pretend I’m delighted to see him (no matter what he looks like).

Stage Two – Initial set-up. Get him comfortable, ask him what he’s looking for. This is my “pretend I’m a physio” role – pretend he’s just here for a massage.

Stage Three – the actual act. This is the hardest part (oh dear, there I go with my puns again). But this is the part that’s a blur. I’m on auto-pilot. My head is fuzzy. I’m thinking – fifteen minutes top, then it’s over. I’m thinking money.

And then it’s over.

Stage Four is easy – taking the money – bye bye, do come again. (puns, how many?) And it’s done.

I only have to do four of these a day and that’s two hundred pounds made. I only work two days a week. Two days a week – lunchtimes only. It means I have a lot of time off.

Of course I don’t tell people about my job. I’m only telling you because …. well, you’ve sussed me out.

And I know you’re judging me. That’s okay. That’s why I don’t tell people.

Oh, I know what you think. That I must be on drugs. Or have childhood issues. Or how I must be a homewrecker.

You’re probably worried your boyfriend is seeing me on the side. I’m sure he’s not. The guys that come to me are the guys who can’t get it elsewhere. I like to see myself as a sort of ‘sex worker’. I’m releasing tension. I’m preventing sexual assault.

But the truth is, I couldn’t bear an office job. I’ve done it before. The long hours. The horrible commute. The standing in the pouring rain waiting for a bus at seven in the morning. The office politics. The bitchiness. The griping.

When I was too stressed in my office job, the doctor told me I was depressed. Depressed/ Stressed – whatever. He gave me pills and sent me on my way. I retreated home to my safe sanctuary. The pills made me feel like I was sinking down through the carpet. A bit like in Trainspotting. Maybe I do fit the druggie prostitute stereotype after-all.

Anyway, off sick, I hatched a plan. I’ve had fuck buddies in the past. I know how it works. Home, quick shag, they disappear. They might re-appear. Same cycle. I might as well get paid for it.

And the hours are fantastic. The perks of the job. Roll out of bed by eleven a.m. Quick shower. No commute. Finish work by two. Rest of the day to myself. Stress free.

Of course there are the down-sides. Say I’m at a party and someone asks me what I do, I can’t say, “Oh, I work from home as an escort!” Because they’d judge me. Like you might be doing now.

So I say I’m a legal secretary. That shuts them up because it’s so bloody boring.

The other downside is that I can’t have a boyfriend. Apart from the obvious – he’d be jealous of four men a day trooping through his living room, I honestly wouldn’t have the energy to have sex with him. It’d be like a busman’s holiday.

And then of course there’s the future career prospects. I’ve no pension. The minute the wrinkles or sagging appears, my career is over. And then when I do try to get a job in my local Tesco’s, my CV is non-existent.

Don’t get me wrong – of course I get jealous. When I scroll through Facebook and I see the perfect lives and the husbands and the two point four children and the hidden sub-text of security and pension and unconditional love – yeah, of course it looks nice.

But it’d be good if I could get one of those courtesan jobs. One of my clients has suggested that recently actually. He’s good looking too. Tall. I don’t have to do the blurring out thing when I’m in stage three with him.

But I think he was joking. I joked back with him. I said I’d cost him a fortune. Fly me to every town with him? Wait for him all day and be available with he’s ready? Next he’ll be wanting me to do his Tesco shop for him and bear his two point four children. I was joking with him but of course, secretly I was delighted. Holding my breath in fact. Perhaps if I put up enough of a chase, he’ll finally seal the deal.

In the meantime, I’ll just keep slapping on the wrinkle cream and enjoying my daily lie-in.

(END)

"Home~Work" was performed in the Black Box theatre, Belfast. 
It was directed by Colm Doran and performed by Vicky Blades, David Paulin and Mary Frances Loughran.

The Man Who Fell to Pieces - Tinderbox Theatre Company - Theatre review

Oh. My. God. I have just returned from the theatre and I am a hot mess. I don’t think I’ve ever been moved to tears as much as this whilst watching a play.

‘The Man who fell to pieces’ is a play about depression. It is emotional, touching, raw and powerful. Somehow, it also manages to be funny.

We are only ten minutes into the show and already the tears are running down my cheeks. It’s the part when John, who is having difficulties communicating his feelings to his fiancé Caroline, share a tender dance. I can feel the pain between them. The music, beautifully composed by Katie Richardson, adds to the emotion, making the atmosphere in the theatre palpable. I can see several audience members hastily trying to wipe a tear from their eyes.

I meanwhile, am a hot mess. The tears are flowing effortlessly and I’m completely absorbed in this wonderful play.

All four actors are incredible, the music is beautiful and the set is clever. The physical theatre, the dance and the words that this production uses to describe depression are very cleverly put together.

And did I mention the humour? How can the tears be tripping you one minute, and the next you’re laughing out loud.  

One in four suffer from depression. Surely that means that almost everyone is affected by it – if not directly themselves, than by a family member or loved one.

Having suffered from depression myself, maybe this is why this play resonates so powerfully with me. Because how can you explain what’s going on in your head when on the outside, you appear fine?

That’s why the physical theatre and dance worked so well with this show. The framed pictures of him collapsing represents his mind collapsing. The bag of bits on the kitchen table a metaphor for his scattered mind.

But let’s not forget that humour, the typists in the telesales office, with their pretend typing and their ridiculous masks. The overbearing boss with his head inside an expanding picture-frame.

When we’re hearing about the writer, how he walked those streets for miles, how he felt like if he didn’t stop walking, he would surely jump, his courage and bravery astounded me. The tears were back. How can someone use such incredible pain, pain that we normally hush hush away, and create something so beautiful? Something that will surely touch many people’s lives.

Afterwards, when the lights had gone up, the atmosphere in the theatre was visible. It was as if people couldn’t move, as if they needed to sit for a while and digest what they had just seen. People sat on, people talked, people hugged. There was a shared connection.

I am truly privileged to have watched this production.

I wonder if this will return for a third time. I wonder if it will go on tour around UK and Ireland.

I do hope others get to experience this very special piece of theatre.

"Date Show After Dark" - Bullitt Hotel

Do you ever sit in a bar or restaurant and idly watch a couple sitting nearby? Do you find yourself wondering a little about their background? Are they on a first date? Are they in a long-term relationship? Have they just had an argument and now they’re struggling for something to talk about? 

I do it. All the time. 

Are you a people-watcher like me? Nosy, I mean, curious?

‘Date Show After Dark’ is the perfect performance for a people watcher. Imagine you could sit near a couple, watch what’s going on, wear headphones, and hear every single word they mutter into their discreet microphone?

You’d overhear the couple who are having an argument. The one where the girl is jealous because the waitress is flirting with her date right under her very nose.

You’d overhear the phone-call where one girl is talking about her anxiety about her ever-more distant boyfriend. And then you’d even overhear the distant boyfriend sinking a few beers with his best mate and saying what he really thinks about said girlfriend.

And if all that wasn’t enough to whet your curiosity, then you’d even follow a lady up in the lift to her bedroom and hear her thoughts as she goes. You’d get to have a peek inside her hotel room as she fires clothes into her suitcase. You’d make a mental note to yourself that the Bullitt hotel rooms are absolutely gorgeous and you really must think up an excuse to book yourself in there some night- preferably with some hot date?

Then, as if it wasn’t going to get intimate enough, you’d then go inside the bathroom where an actress (completely naked I might add), is showering and preparing for a date. You’d hear her stream of consciousness as she nervously gets ready.   

No actually, it gets even more intimate, because then you’re back in the bedroom and this time you’re watching a sexy scene unfold!

Just as the couple reach their heights, you’re back out in the corridor and following a laundry guy. He’s one of the actors of course, but meanwhile a ‘real’ customer is swiping her card and opening her hotel room, watching you and the remaining headphone-wearing audience with curiosity and a wry smile.

You’re then in the bar, watching as a woman anxiously awaits a date. She’s an actress too of course but out of the corner of your eye, you spot a ‘real’ woman who actually is waiting for someone. Truth is wonderfully blended with fiction.

The timing of this performance is perfection. How the director has choreographed such a cast of characters, with three rotating audiences to all come together at the end is beyond me.

After the performance, my sister and I went for food at a local eatery. I noticed a young woman nervously wave over at a guy. Her make-up was perfection and her outfit spelled hours of planning. I could tell by their awkward body language that this was a first date. Now, where was my headphones and their microphones when I needed them?

Date Show After Dark runs from 11-19 October 2018 at Bullitt Hotel, Belfast 

Reasons to write a Crime Novel

Have you ever thought up a good crime plot and fancied getting it down on the page? I'm delighted to be joined today by author Val Penny who discusses the very subject - writing crime! Sit back and enjoy! :) 

Reasons to Write a Crime Novel

People like crime, at least in novels! Often, I meet dentists and bank managers with clever plot ideas, or nurses who read every crime novel they can lay their hands on. If I visit a writing group, there are always members keenly producing new murderous plots. Lawyers and convicts show equal enthusiasm for this genre. For those who want to write a crime novel, there are several reasons to want to do so. Here are a few of them.

Emotional Release

Often, those who write crime novels find an emotional release in their craft. Crime novelists deal with the dark things that people usually push to the side of their minds in order to get on with every day life. The cathartic attraction of writing can be decisive.

Some crime authors tell of poor sleep patterns, punctured by night-mares that are repaired when they start to write. Others panic, constantly scanning doorways for signs of danger. The stiffening fear that afflicts them resolves when they are busy writing crime.

The Story-Telling Urge

The sources for crime novels are many and varied. Ideas can spring from the news and current affairs; memories from the past and historical events or things that puzzle or fascinate the writer. Once an author begins to exercise their creative muscles, they often find that they run into stories demanding to be told. The stories demand to be told and will not stop coming.

For Companionship

It is often said that writers can be difficult people: gloomy, competitive and quarrelsome. However, for the most part, I have found crime writers to be an inclusive and convivial bunch. They are certainly hard-working. The pressure of producing a book a year is intense, yet they never seem to turn their backs on fun. If you have a chance to go to a crime-writers' convention, do take it. They are exhausting, exhilarating and irresistible.

An Outlet for Aggression

Most crime-writers will tell you that they are good company because they channel all their belligerent thoughts into their stories, so in real life, the authors are meek and mild. It is not always true, but I can confirm that a crime novel is an excellent place to park your rage! The prospect of giving vent to righteous anger in a safe form can be a particularly pleasing device. When characters require to act in a violent way or commit violence the reader is willing to witness this on the page but they would shy from it in real life. Crime writers can let rip on the page in a way they avoid doing in the real world.

The Thrill of Research

I can personally confirm that the research you do for crime novels and for academic purposes are equally satisfying. It is also extremely diverse. It may involve visiting prisons, refuges, police stations or drug dens. Police are often very willing to be of assistance to crime writers, even if it is just to avoid being irritated when otherwise the writers would get police procedures wrong. This information is most useful and helpful. Indeed, when you are writing a novel, no information or experience is wasted! ~ Val Penny 

Hunter by name – Hunter by nature: DI Hunter Wilson will not rest until Edinburgh is safe.

DI Hunter Wilson knows there is a new supply of cocaine flooding his city and he needs to find the source but his attention is transferred to murder when a corpse is discovered in the grounds of a golf course. Shortly after the post-mortem, Hunter witnesses a second murder but that is not the end of the slaughter. With a young woman's life also hanging in the balance, the last thing Hunter needs is a new man on his team: the son of his nemesis, the former Chief Constable. Hunter's perseverance and patience are put to the test time after time in this taught crime thriller.  

 www.authorvalpenny.com

www.facebook.com/valerie.penny.739

Friends of Hunter's Chase - www.facebook.com/groups/296295777444303

https://twitter.com/valeriepenny

Guest Author - Lizzie Chantree

I'm delighted to be joined today by author Lizzie Chantree. Lizzie is the best-selling author of three novels with a fourth published very recently!   

Hi Lizzie! Thanks so much for joining me on my blog today! You are already a successful published author – please tell me about the books you have already had published? 

Thank you for the compliment! My first three books are called Babe Driven, Love’s Child and Finding Gina. They are about the love lives of eccentric entrepreneurs, but are full of friendship, romance and surprises. My aim is to write books that make people smile. I began my first business at the age of 17 and the process of making the ideas work and the creativity and support needed to keep the business alive, fascinates me. Through my writing, I am able to imagine what it would be like to run some pretty crazy businesses! 

Sounds fantastic! You also have a new novel which has just been released. Please tell me a little bit about that.  

My new release is called Ninja School Mum. It’s about a woman who is trying to create a stable environment for her child, but she has a problematic past that keeps crashing into her daily life. The main character, Skye, is obsessive compulsive, she hates other people and yet she’s doing her best to be a better version of herself the sake of her son. She’s a single parent with skills! She starts a new business to try and ease her way into the lives of the local community and then many unexpected things start to happen.

I love the sound of that! I've noticed you have a great online presence. What's your preference - Facebook or Twitter? 

I like both Facebook and Twitter, but my preference is Twitter. You will find me on there daily, as I like to see what everyone is doing and update my readers about my latest work. I run a networking hour for creatives or anyone who enjoys creativity. It’s every Monday and it’s very fast to keep up with, but hilarious! The people are supportive of each other and they enjoy networking, so it’s great fun. 

I will have to log in for that! As for the writing side of things, can you tell me about your writing routine – how do you settle yourself down to write? 

I get very easily distracted by social media and the little notes I write myself and stick around my studio. I’ve now bought a big notepad with 'To Do’ lists in it, to try and be more efficient. It’s working so far! I tend to begin writing at 9am and can still be there until 2pm, when I have family commitments. I work from 6-11pm on a Monday too, on my networking session. I can sometimes write 100 words a day and another time over 5,000 a day for a week. There really is no routine to it. I write in my car while I’m waiting for my children, at a desk while they do sports, in cafés, or anywhere! I don’t have to be in a quiet corner of my studio. 

Sounds very disciplined - good for you! How do you balance your time between writing and marketing? 

It’s tricky. I find marketing can take over, but I love to learn new things about writing and have met some great friends through networking. It takes dedication, but it’s really worth the effort. I try and get writing done first, but always have lists of other jobs to do. My top tip for marketing is that it doesn’t have to cost you money, just a bit of  time. If you are happy to learn, then there is so much information out there to help you. 

What’s your favourite thing about writing/ being published? 

Meeting people who have enjoyed my writing. It’s such a wonderful feeling when someone says they can relate to your story, or that they wish they were friends with the characters in my books! I really enjoy discovering other authors i’ve not met before too. 

Do you have any tips for aspiring authors? 

Get the words onto paper. You can’t edit a blank page. Be more organised than I am! Join book and author groups and make friends. These contacts will support you on your journey to publication. 

What do you love doing when not writing? 

When I’m not writing, I paint huge landscapes. I also enjoy reading anything from design, architectural, fashion, technology, science books, to fairy stories! I absolutely love going to the pictures with friends or family too. 

What was the book you read that made you think “I’d love to write!”? 

The Hobbit. I read it in school and I still remember holding the book and thinking, wow!

Lastly – a fun question – can you tell us about a funny/ embarrassing memory? 

I embarrass my children daily, or so they tell me! 

My daughter had just started a new school and had her first trip. I was going with her and was stressed as I didn’t know anyone yet. I was chatting to a lovely lady the whole way there about life and the children on the bus. As we got off the coach, I asked her which year her children were in. She just looked at me strangely and simply said …’I’m the headmistress.’ 

I’d only seen her from the back of the school hall before and in a suit, so in jeans and a jumper I thought they appeared similar, but then thought nothing more about it. I’ve been on so many school trips in primary school, but the head of the school had never joined us, so it didn’t occur to me they could be there. My daughter rolled around the floor in fits of giggles when I told her, then proceeded to loudly tell all her friends on the drive home how her mum had such a terrible memory, while I cringed in the corner and pretended to be asleep!

Thank you so much for joining me today Lizzie, and wishing you much success with this great book! :) 

Author bio:

Award-winning inventor and author, Lizzie Chantree, started her own business at the age of 18 and became one of Fair Play London and The Patent Office’s British Female Inventors of the Year in 2000. She discovered her love of writing fiction when her children were little and now runs networking hours on social media, where creative businesses, writers, photographers and designers can offer advice and support to each other. She lives with her family on the coast in Essex. 

Social media links:

Website: www.lizziechantree.com

Author page: viewAuthor.at/LizzieChantree

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Lizzie_Chantree

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lizzie.chantree.3

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lizzie_chantree/

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/LizzieChantree/pins/

Book links:

Babe Driven: viewBook.at/Amazon-BabeDriven

Love’s Child: viewBook.at/Amazon-LovesChild

Finding Gina: viewBook.at/Amazon-FindingGina