New Book Babies

It might sound a bit odd when authors compare their books to babies, but I think it sort of makes sense. You spend years putting the work into a book, moulding it, shaping it, nurturing it and encouraging it to grow and evolve at the right pace. And then at some point, when it’s ready, you let go of it and release it into the world. It’s similar to child-rearing in that way. Plus, authors are so connected to their books and often so in love with their own characters, that it just feels right to call them your babies.

Just lately I’ve been releasing a lot of babies that were cooking for a long time, so it felt right to blog about it. My blog posts for a while now have been taken up by wonderful guest posts. More on that and where it’s heading next another time! But for now, it’s really nice to climb back behind the driving seat of The Glorious Outsiders to update you all on my new babies.

Over a year ago I released the first in a YA trilogy, A Song For Bill Robinson. Here is a post I wrote at that time about where the idea for the book originally came from and how it later grew into a trilogy. https://chantelleatkins.com/2019/11/08/10-fun-facts-about-my-new-book/ After releasing the first book, I continued working on the second and third books, but I was also finishing up The Boy With The Thorn In His Side series – another mammoth amount of babies! And because Emily’s Baby finishes with a cliff-hanger, I decided I would hold back its release until the third book, The Search For Summer was also ready. I planned to release the final two books within a month of each other and that’s exactly what I’ve done.

If you are interested in a dramatic, gritty YA series about an unsolved murder, a neighbourhood feud and a self-destructive teenage singer, then A Song For Bill Robinson and Emily’s Baby are available now in ebook and paperback and on multiple platforms and The Search For Summer is available to pre-order and will be released on Friday 30th April.

It feels really good to have another series completed and released. Obviously writing a series of books is a huge challenge and extremely time-consuming and there is always a massive feeling of relief when the final one is out there!

At the same time, you feel a bit strange and a bit bereft. The characters have been with you for so long by this point that you feel lost without them. The good news is I am already in the middle of another series of books, plus I am co-writing a series with author Sim Sansford. So that is more than enough to keep me busy!

My new book babies are a YA post-apocalyptic series of which I have just finished book two. There will be four books in this series. And the series I am co-writing is a YA supernatural series and there will be three books.

After all of that I will be looking forward to writing a standalone book! And funnily enough, I already have one on the go. I’ve written some chapter outlines, character bios and some very rough chapters for a standalone which is actually a spin-off book from The Boy With The Thorn In His Side series. Two brothers are introduced as secondary characters in the final book of the series and I enjoyed writing them so much, I decided to give them their own book. I can’t wait to share news of that with you in good time.

But for now, it’s back to the massive book babies and getting another two series complete and released!

I hope I did my job the best I could and I hope they do well out there!

Guest Post #5 Hello Home…

Welcome to another guest post for my ‘Hello Home…’ pandemic themed feature. It would seem all of us have experienced or are still experiencing a lockdown of some sort while the corona virus continues to blight our lives. Although we are all in the same situation, we experience it differently because our homes are all so different. Thinking about this inspired me to write a piece a few weeks ago dedicated to my house and what it has meant to me during these strange and unsettling times. Today please welcome author Jessica Norrie. If you would like to know more about Jessica and her books, her links and bio are at the end of the post!

Counting blessings

Today was exciting. The window cleaner came. Then, a scaffolder’s lorry, delivering to the house opposite, blocked the road for two hours!

In lockdown I’m sure we look out of the windows more. From the front we nod to “our” postman He’s always in shorts, even in snow. We spot delivery men before they knock and the smart lady who brings wines from her posh emporium, a lockdown indulgence to replace going out. We admire the skilful dustmen reversing their truck when the road’s parked up with homeworkers. “This is the WORST road,” yelled one, grinning, which made me obscurely proud. The hens kept across the road regularly escape, that sets the late crowing cockerel off.

The rear windows show a more scenic view, pink dawns, rolling mists, deep snow, glowing sunsets and moongleams and one unforgettable conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn.

Last lockdown there were five bellowing sheep in the field beyond the end of the back garden. I worried they were missing their lambs until my neighbour pointed out they were rams. There are no shepherds abiding but a rare human – the farmer? – sometimes enters stage left in his tractor, and a jogger criss-crosses the cows in the far field. Our webcam reveals foxes in our night garden, muntjac deer and either one badger with a limp that’s got better, or two different badgers. Since Christmas they’ve been feeding on our fermenting windfall apples. Do they get drunk? This is cider country.

The other day in an idle moment (so many idle moments) I calculated I’ve moved eighteen times. I’ve lived in cities – London, Brighton, Paris, Dijon, Sheffield. I’ve looked out on grandeur and squalor, blue-light vehicles, escaped plastic bins and plane trees, a Salvation Army band whose trumpets blew us awake every Sunday, and people, people, people. Children, childminders, parents, pensioners, shoppers, car washers, skate boarders, dog walkers. I’ve moved for study, for jobs, for relationships, to upsize and downsize. I’m not exactly easy come, easy go, but I leave without resistance and I settle in quite fast.

Now leaving’s not an option. These windows, this garden are in my partner’s small but comfortable house. Mine is in London, with my son and his partner in happy charge of wear, tear and care. I happened to be down here in March 2020, and here I’ve been ever since, only meeting family when the tier system permits. Covid rates are lower here, the air’s fresher, we live and exercise daily in an AONB (Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty). We both work from home and, not being keyworkers, the wisest course is to keep our heads down and try not to bother the NHS. We barely know anyone, as Partner hasn’t been here long, but trundling together through what could be claustrophobia is working surprisingly well. I’m here for the duration, hopeful his GP will put me on her vaccine list instead of telling me to make a seven hour round trip to plague-ridden London for it.

So we’re very lucky, and I’m grateful. But I do feel a little… displaced, though of course not in the awful sense of a true refugee. I haven’t had to abandon my family, lifestyle and possessions forever; I’ll get back “home” post vaccine, whoever jabs my arm. Still, it’s odd.

My daughter is displaced too, furloughed and voluntarily marooned in Cornwall with her boyfriend’s family after the first home they were buying together fell through when the March lockdown began. She’s struggled to access necessary medical treatment, and my son caught Covid at the school where he works. In their twenties it’s right they’re making their own lives, but when they’re sick my instinct is to check on them and I can’t. Some nights I’m sleepless with worry in my gilded cage. Twelve months ago, who knew we’d all be stuck hundreds of miles apart?

Only some nights. Partner and I are warm and well, living full time together hasn’t pushed us apart, we’ve found small rituals to structure the days, from measuring out vitamin pills at breakfast to pouring fine wine at seven. We can now get the wood burner going in two minutes flat, and hearing the neighbour poking theirs gives at least a sense of togetherness. Decorating a Christmas tree made the house a home, and the cards – when finally forwarded – had handwritten messages, longer than usual. Keep in touch, we haven’t forgotten you, don’t forget us. London’s waiting.

We’re fit from hill walking and the snowdrops are out. Today I heard bellowing again from the field. I can count sheep again. One, two, three, four, five.

©Jessica Norrie 2021

A huge thank you to Jessica for writing this wonderful piece for the Hello Home…feature. You can find all her links and social media pages below!

Links: Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Jessica-Norrie/e/B01CEUZF26%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share Goodreads author page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3270629.Jessica_Norrie

Novels: http://getbook.at/TheMagicCarpet http://getbook/at/TheInfinityPool http://getbook.at/DerInfinity-Pool (German) http://getbook.at/Infinitude (French) Blog: https://jessicanorrie.wordpress.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wordsandfictions Twitter: https://twitter.com/jessica_norrie

Author bio

Jessica Norrie was born in London and studied French Literature and Education at Sussex and Sheffield. She taught English, French and Spanish abroad and in the UK in settings ranging from nursery to university. She has two adult children and divides her time between London and Malvern, Worcestershire.

She has also worked as a freelance translator, published occasional journalism and a French textbook, and she blogs at https://jessicanorrie.wordpress.com

Covid permitting, Jessica sings soprano with any choir that will have her, and has been trying to master the piano since childhood but it’s not her forte.

She left teaching in 2016. The Infinity Pool was her first novel, drawing on encounters while travelling. Her second novel The Magic Carpet is inspired by working with families and their children. The third is about women’s lives in a small village. It’s currently being submitted to publishers by her agent.

Guest Post #4 Hello Home…

Welcome to another guest post for my ‘Hello Home…’ pandemic themed feature. It would seem all of us have experienced or are still experiencing a lockdown of some sort while the corona virus continues to blight our lives. Although we are all in the same situation, we experience it differently because our homes are all so different. Thinking about this inspired me to write a piece a few weeks ago dedicated to my house and what it has meant to me during these strange and unsettling times. Today please welcome author Susie Kearley who released her pandemic themed novel in January of this year. If you would like to know more about Susie and her writing, her links are at the end of the piece!

“Stay at Home” has been the clear message during lockdown in the UK. For me, it’s been easy. I work from home anyway, writing magazine articles, and when my husband joined me in March 2020, I appreciated the company.

Back in the autumn of 2019, I took two months off article writing to complete my novel – it’s a story about a fungal pandemic, which brings about the end of the world! At the start of 2020, I started looking for an agent, and then Covid struck, which I thought made my book really topical!

I had good feedback but no takers, so I finally decided to publish through Amazon in January 2021, because I felt I was missing an opportunity. There’s been a lot of interest in pandemic stories since Covid struck; Dean Koontz’s novel about a Wuhan Virus published in the 1980s saw sales peak. Peter May’s Lockdown, which was previously rejected because publishers said it was unrealistic… was published to great acclaim in 2020.

As the UK went back into lockdown in January 2021, it felt like the right time to publish.

So my time at home in recent times has been productive, despite considerable challenges. A lot of magazines stopped commissioning, preferring to use up stock, given the unpredictable nature of what might happen next. Article writing work was slow, so I spent more time in the garden, went for daily walks, and worked on my photography. We watched a lot of movies in the evenings under lockdown.

I’m grateful that we have a nice home, with guinea pigs, and a garden. It’s so important to like your home, when you’re having to spend a lot of time there. We’re now looking forward to the opportunities the future brings, as the vaccine is rolled out, and hoping that my pandemic book, ‘Pestilence’ will capture people’s imaginations and become the next best seller! Check it out here http://mybook.to/pestilencebook
www.susiekearley.co.uk

FB: www.facebook.com/susie.kearley.writer
TW: www.twitter.com/susiekearley

Many thanks again to Susie for writing this piece for my Hello Home…feature!

See you next week for another guest post!

Guest Post #3 Hello Home…

Welcome to another guest post for my ‘Hello Home…’ pandemic themed feature. It would seem all of us have experienced or are still experiencing a lockdown of some sort while the corona virus continues to blight our lives. Although we are all in the same situation, we experience it differently because our homes are all so different. Thinking about this inspired me to write a piece a few weeks ago dedicated to my house and what it has meant to me during these strange and unsettling times. This week, please welcome author Paul Waters to the blog with a wonderful piece about a lockdown project that really brought the local community together. Enjoy!

The Blue Book House

During Covid my second home has kept me connected to the world. It’s not what you think. I don’t spread my life between two properties. But I do have a home-from-home with essential creature comforts and it sits on my front fence.

My other house is wooden, double-fronted and painted blue. My carpenter friend, Mick, made it watertight and solid for me. My friend, Wink, friend carefully painted it. My Mum, Patricia, did the lettering. And the creature comforts it contains are a selection of one of life’s essentials – books. Hence the name, the Blue Book House.

It all started before the pandemic when I realised that I had far too many books. It seemed like putting a book house in front of my human house would be a good way to share my surplus and spread the book love. But it has not turned out as I expected.

The message written on both sides of my book house says: “Choose a free book. Read it. Keep it forever. Or pass it on.” And people do. They look through the windows or open the doors for a rummage while standing on the pavement.

But far from reducing my book stock, the book house has boosted it in volume and variety. That’s because people passing by also do two other things. They return books they’ve taken and they kindly add books of their own. Sometimes they slot them in. (I try to keep children’s books on the left and other on the right – though that system and any themed displays I attempt quickly become higgledy-piggledy.) Other times I open my front door to find a pile or bag of books in my porch. Which is lovely, though it wasn’t quite was I was aiming for.

I love books. I read voraciously. I write books – you’ll find my debut historical crime thriller Blackwatertown in shops in the UK, Ireland, France and Spain, and online. I like talking about books – I co-present a books and authors podcast called We’d Like A Word with fellow author, Stevyn Colgan. And I love sharing books and the love of reading. So the Blue Book House fits right in.

But it has also become something else – a point of contact with other people when we are restricted in where we can go and what we can do. It’s a connection at a time of social distancing, loneliness and alienation – and reduced hours or closure for local libraries. Most of the time people dip in and out of the book house without me noticing. The only indication is the books rearranged, some gone, others arrived.

But sometimes I happen to be passing a window when people are browsing. The book house is a reason to pause and rest when walking the dog or getting some exercise. Or perhaps I happen to be coming or going myself and have the chance to exchange socially distanced hellos with neighbours.

Sometimes a note is posted through my letterbox or left inside the book house saying thanks for a particular book. They’re usually anonymous. Sometimes with the handwriting and crayon drawings of a young reader. And that is lovely.

When there’s so much doom and gloom and disruption, the notes and conversations prompted by the Blue Book House bring light into my life.

You’re welcome to look inside and see if there’s a book that tickles your fancy. Or if you’re not in the neighbourhood, you could visit virtually via Twitter @bluebookhouse or Facebook @LittleBlueBookHouse

Even better, you could create your own book house. Just don’t expect it to help you cut down the number of books in your home.

Thank you so much to Paul for contributing this wonderful piece to Hello Home…feature. If you would like to find out more about Paul and his work his bio and links are below!

Bio

Paul Waters is the author of Blackwatertown, published in paperback/softcover and ebook by Unbound and audiobook by WF Howes. His website is http://www.paulwatersauthor.com

Books

 Blackwatertown: Amazon.co.uk: Paul Waters: 9781783529254: Books or www.amazon.co.uk/Blackwatertown-Paul-Waters/dp/1783529253/ref=sr_1_1?crid=4G0MXWZ5E4EO&dchild=1&keywords=blackwatertown+paul+waters&qid=1611069602&sprefix=blackwatertown+%2Cdigital-text%2C140&sr=8-1