When I first decided I wanted to write, I had a fantasy that I would write a book, get an Agent and a Publisher and enjoy a life of writing forever…
OK OK you can stop laughing now!
The reality is that writing a book is bloody hard work and publishing and promoting it is even harder!
I’ve long since given up on this idea but I’ve discovered something far more valuable in the process.
The small gains are so gratifying and exciting, I wonder whether I’d even really like the lazy author life. I’ve discovered that self publishing is not only fun, but I retain control!
Control of the book, control of the book cover, control of the pricing and control of the promotion.
After reading Firefly Magic by Lauren Sapala, I realised that I can do this and that the way my brain works, although it is different from many others, (read weird, kooky, crazy…you choose) is ok, and most of all EFFECTIVE.
After all, if Lauren can do it so can I!
So, here’s an excerpt from my book which will be free on Amazon this weekend! If you like the sound it, head on over and download a copy – don’t forget to leave a review if you can!
“Mia was a little girl with a big personality. Standing no more than shoulder height to my 4’11” she was tiny even for year 7.
Her father being mixed afro Caribbean and her mother white, Mia was mixed race. She sat before me, her milky brown skin and dark brown eyes set within an elfin face almost hidden by a shock of hair falling in ringlets to her waist. The ringlets were partially tamed by a small clip placed on top of her head. Mia sat on her hands, legs swinging as they didn’t reach the floor; and she rocked back and forth.
Mia had rather a pronounced tic in her right eye which I found distracting but in a strange way, also made her endearing. Mia rocked back and forth looking at me, her hands still firmly under her legs. She began to grimace in the way a small child would when they are getting angry. Her bottom jaw jutted out and her open lips revealed gritted teeth. Her eyes were now fixed and wide open, staring just past me. Was she about to have some sort of seizure? I felt myself becoming concerned, but I held my position as I felt there was more to come.
Sure enough, after a few seconds, Mia let out a loud, low “Grrrrrrr” and her head began to shake. Mia had now firmly fixed her pretty brown eyes on me and, as I looked, I saw it. Slowly, very slowly and starting at her eyes, Mia began to smile, an almost manic, mischievous smile. What was she trying to tell me? What did she need me to know or do? I held my position still further and the growl began to morph into a low-pitched demonic laugh. Her legs were now swinging in opposing directions and she threw her ringlets back and stared up at the ceiling, looking back at me periodically, I suspect, to check I was still watching her. This went on for about 2 or 3 minutes. The tiny demon in front of me was pulling out all the stops. I sensed she wanted me to intervene or try and stop her, but I didn’t, partly because I wanted to observe the behaviour but partly because I was fascinated by it. The more the performance went on, the more I began to like this girl.
When she stopped, Mia looked at me quizzically. Her head was cocked to the side like a puppy. The facial tic returned, the rocking subsided and the hands remained, as they had been all along, under her legs.
“I hate this school, I hate my Dad, and I hate everyone except my Mom! I want my Mom!”
Mia’s demeanour changed, her spine curved backwards into a C shape and her face was screwed up like a toddler who had been refused a new toy. She was frowning. I really had been subjected to a full show here.
Finally, I spoke. “Wow” I said. It sounds like you have lots of feelings about lots of things. You say you hate your Dad, and everyone and the school and you want your Mom?”
“I just want my Mom! I hate my Dad!””
Thank you for reading and please get your copy of the book here or by clicking the cover image
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