Good Morning All
Flipping ‘eck where do I start today? Maybe at yesterday?
I kept to plan A and trotted off up the garden with Chea and chucks trailing and continued slab laying. Before long I had a lovely flat base and being Mrs Enthusiastic I trotted back down the garden to find Richards drill so that I could take down a couple of fence panels. Surprised at the fact that the drill was charged, back I galloped.
During the course of the morning I kept feeling rather uncomfortable in the ‘breast’ department and had to keep having a discrete ferret around in the underwear area. For some reason my upper undergarment kept rolling down and sitting beneath my breasts like a bloody tourniquet – I fell for the advert on the telly regarding that lovely bra-type all-in-one-thingy that you just slip on over your head and it holds, shapes and does lovely things without cutting in – all ladies reading this will know exactly what I mean! Personally I think they are designed for females with pea-nut sized breasts – of which, sadly, I am not one.
I ‘went’ with this for hours, tugging, realigning, missing the fact that the neighbour was up a ladder, trimming a willow, and was watching my every move through bifocals. Eventually I had to pop back into the house to go to the loo but, before ablutions, I decided to check out the form of torture that was still squeezing the life out of me. Simples! I’d put the bloody thing on back to front and not only that but when I slipped down the old mud-encrusted leggings I discovered that my pants were also on back to front.
I know I rarely know if I am coming or going but I usually know my front from my back. I blame in on my enthusiasm to start my day.
When The Lord rose from his slumbers we moved the shed base into position and then I preserved it – the shed base not My Lord Richard.
Tomorrow the shed rises. Whoop woo. Neighbours will be called on to heave up the heavy roof, Champagne will be smashed across the shed door and I will bless all who potter in her – which, frankly, will only be yours truly because no one else will be allowed in it. I may call it Roger. I knew a Roger once and he was as thick as two short planks.
I’m listening to The King And I soundtrack on headphones as I write. Don’t these lyrics to Whistle A Happy Tune truly float your boat?
Make believe you’re brave – and the trick will take you far
You may be as brave – as you make-believe you are.
Today I am flitting like a butterfly – but NOT stinging like a bee! I just want to mention something that disturbed me a little. Most things disturb me a little but … A writer friend of mine was saying how few (mention no names or gender ) book sales they’d had and were at a loss of how to improve sales. Should said person lower the price? Give the books away? I was pretty thrown to be honest because as a writer I know how much work goes into a novel. And not just work as in time-wise. We change into Incredible Hulks and generally not very nice-to-know people when we have a novel sitting inside our skulls demanding to be set free. And all around us people and things suffer. We place partners, family, housework, social activities and the family dog on the back burner and trust that those things will still be there for us when we have freed ourselves of our novel. Hot, nourishing meals are only obtained from McDonald’s (well, hot meals) and when we aren’t writing we can’t involve ourselves in conversation because we are thinking about writing.
It is my experience, albeit limited, because I’ve only been at this self publishing lark for eight months, that the only thing that will sell books is visibility. I write in the romance genre, frankly I don’t know why I say that because my books are not very romantic – not at all slushy – or is that mushy? Or is that just peas? So, for my sins and choice of genre, it appears that there are millions of books sitting on Amazon, so deep on the old Amazon seabed that only a tsunami would shift them and bring them to the surface. I believe, if you can put your book on freebie promo’ for three days and work your butt off (Facebook/Twitter) tweeting and relying on your twitter friends to re-tweet and download your book, even if they never read it, you may well create your own tsunami and your book will rise, phoenix-like, to the number one position on Amazon. That is what I did with Starfish and that is what happened to Starfish. It reached number one. It then became visible.
I’ve been very naughty of late and hardly ‘pushed’ any of my novels. But I will. And soon. I have to really, don’t I? I can’t bugger about building sheds and listening to The King And I everyday, can I?
But just now – I can. So I’ll have a quick check on the undergarments and then I shall Whistle A Happy Tune all the way to the top of the garden.
Take care my lovelies x