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)

Tuesday, 2 March 2010


Today something was different - the warm sun was on my back for the first time in weeks, and I felt like I could conquer the world. So at 5pm I quickly packed up my work-things and dashed off in my van to the boat. I set up my step-ladder and climbed aboard. It didn't seem to matter that what I saw in front of me was a complete wreck.

At 6pm dark skies descended and I went home.

I poured and drank a glass of wine to celebrate my renewed enthusiasm, and then went in the bathroom to run myself a hot bath.

As I drank another glass of wine I reflected on how a sense of calm had come over me on the boat while I was sorting out the rotten flooboards. I also reflected on how Paul, the boatyard keeper, had kindly turned up and showed me where I could hook up electric power from inside the boat-shed. And then I reflected on how just a few simple words of encouragement from some buddies had turned negative to positive.

Due thanks go to old school chum Neil Hart in California; to Nick-Two-Pots, my new friend in Wivenhoe; and to Neil Rowland, the Rear Admiral of The Boat For My Potplants.

Five minutes later I went back to the bathroom, only to discover that I'd forgotten to put the plug in the bath. Too much reflecting? Too much wine, more like. Doh!

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