A Boat For My Potplants


My nautical project took me to glorious places, metaphorically speaking. There were parties on board. There was The World's Smallest Pirate Radio Station. Of course there were plants. And one day even a gorilla.
The boat also became my 'Writer's Retreat'. I decided to become an author, writing my debut novel aboard the boat. The book, called MUDDY WATER, was naturally set in Wivenhoe. Amazingly, several local people paid good money to have their names appearing in the book, and a lot of cash was raised for worthy charities - the RNLI, MIND, The Samaritans, and The Royal British Legion.
Now, my next multi-singular selling novel, FLORIDA KEY, is in 'production', due for publication in October 2017.
I'm sure to be visiting writers' block along the way, as well as euphoria, self-doubt and inspiration.
See how my book goes through all the stages - from initial concept to final print. I'll take you with me on my personal journey as I work on the words, on the cover, on the marketing, and on the publishing.
Maybe it will inspire you too to have a go at bringing out THE BOOK IN YOU. Everyone has a story in them, just waiting to be told, and after all, if I can do it, anyone can.
(Click on the tabs below to see more about the Writer's Retreat In France, the old Boat For My Potplants, Tallulah the Motorhome, Alfonso the Car, and Jane the Woman. And to find out more about MUDDY WATER the novel, click the cover to be transported to its Facebook page)

Thursday, 15 October 2009

I aint going in no sea

Apologies to my band of avid readers - I've not been able to post a blog for three days now, but I guess I will be making up for lost time from tomorrow - because tomorrow is THE BIG DAY when I go to see The Boat For My Potplants for the first time, in the flesh, so to speak.

I will be armed with my trusty camera, ready to take snaps galore. I know you are all gagging for views of the interior, and my appraisal of the boat's condition, and by jove, that's what you'll be getting. Roll on tomorrow!

Now, on the subject of sea, it has been suggested that we should drive The Boat For My Potplants down to the River Thames and round the coast to Brightlingsea, and then up the river to its final resting home of Wivenhoe. I can assure all of you that I enjoy and value my life immensely, so a sea-going adventure is catagorically out of the question. I might be mad, but I'm not stupid. Or is it that I might be stupid but not mad? Whatever. I ain't going in no sea, no sirree.

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