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, 30 August 2011

Anyone For Breakfast?

To celebrate having The Boat For My Potplants included on the website for Dulux's parent company (see http://www.tradexpress.co.uk/ask_the_expert/my_life_in_paint/neil_watson.jsp ), I decided to throw a breakfast party on my Boat For My Potplants this recent Bank Holiday Sunday. After all - corporate sponsorship from Yamaha and B&Q must surely be following Dulux's footsteps, just around the bend.

The guests of honour included my son Oliver and daughter Laura, my nautical neighbour Pete The Roof, and the lovely Neil (he, who got me the boat in the first place) and his even lovelier wife Angela. And of course my great missus Jane.

Neil and I went up to the Co-Op to buy provisions of tea, milk, sugar, butter, bread, - and essentially to bring back the bacon. We all convened on the boat at 10.30 sharp. I removed my new frying pan from it's wrapper and took up my rightful place in the kitchen, er, galley.

Before too long the quietness of the still River Colne was broken by the sizzle of the Danish, and I distributed the butties to all who were eagerly awaiting their sarnies, complete with brown sauce. None of yer mamby-pamby tomato ketchup on this occasion.

Ah, this boating life. I have to say that nothing has ever tasted so good.

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