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)

Saturday, 30 June 2012

Frustrating Wind

I'm cursing the wind in more ways than one this week. Firstly, I was struck down on Tuesday by a bit of the old food poisoning from one of those dodgy all-day-breakfasts in a tin. I know I should have had muesli, but quite frankly who wants to eat chopped up cardboard when there's sausages and beans beckoning for your stomach-space? By Thursday evening I was more gusty inside than the force ten blowing outside.

And I'd asked able-seaman Martyn (pictured left) to help with my inaugeral trip on board the Boat For My Potplants on the Friday, which I'd been so looking forward to with equal degrees of fear and excitement.

'I'm not coming out on that boat if it's got those stupid potplants on it', he had forewarned me. I hoped he was only joking. He must have been as he even arranged to bring his Royal Navy-serving son along for the ride - so I really was going to be in good hands, and I was praying my wind would have let up by then.

Fortunately it had - but unfortunately the north-easterly wind blowing around the boat's mooring grew stronger than ever - and we had to abandon our plans, drink Guinness and discuss geraniums instead.




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