Tag: SFF

For the Love of Books #30

It continues to be a turbulent start to spring. In this moment, the birds are singing and a black cat sits poised on a tin garage roof, shaded by a flowering dogwood tree, but the moment is unlikely to last. With mixed forecasts always on the horizon, unpredictable is the word of the day. The idea of shifting sands, searching for reliable ground only to discover we have no control, the knowledge that we are specks in a vast universe, while the universe exists inside of us, the internal and the existential co-existing… themes at home in a good ghost story, or two. And to that end, I bring two recommendations…

Threading the Labyrinth, by Tiffani Angus

Toni, an American arts dealer and owner of a failing gallery, is unexpectedly called to Hertfordshire after inheriting a Manor House. Leaving the New Mexico desert behind, she discovers her inheritance is a crumbling building and overgrown garden, and aptly names it the remains. The gardens change in twilight, revealing ghosts of the past. Toni soon becomes immersed in the history of the place, drawn in by an unexpected hand and her own curiosity. And so begins Threading the Labyrinth, which really is the perfect title.

The writing offers an immersive experience, as the richness of the gardens are vividly described from the perspectives of past and present. At times, reading the story felt akin to walking through an actual garden, where your thoughts drift and your eye wanders, drawn into the depth and detail of mature foliage, and the feeling that work is never done in a living space. For a while I felt I was losing the thread of the story, since more time is given to the voice of the past than to the present, and struggled with my expectations of Toni being the main character. Until I realised that, for me at least, the main character was in fact the garden itself, brought to life by everyone who has been a part of it. I suspect my experience as a reader was not dissimilar to that of Toni’s experience:

‘It’s in the shadows that you find the shape of things.’

Once I let go of my expectations and accepted the coexistence of past and present, I greatly enjoyed this atmospheric, haunting and layered read.

The Telling, by Jo Baker

Rachel arrives at Storrs Hall, her late mother’s isolated country cottage. While packing up the house, painful memories of loss and grief are exposed, as well as the unsettling feeling of a presence in the house. Generations earlier, a young housemaid, Lizzy, called the same dwelling home. So begins the intertwining tale of two women, both struggling against conforming to duty.

 Written with a thin veil between life and death, the past and the present, the narrative is subtle, and begins with Rachel’s haunting experiences that are all too relatable. Those moments that are hard to define, that make us wonder whether they did in fact happen at all: a blur in the corner of your eye, strange humming that could surely just be faulty wiring; unease that has Rachel questioning her lucidity as it draws on her own complex emotions about grief, partnership and motherhood. But with the help of a neighbour, a previous owner and a local historian, Rachel pieces together the house that was a labourer’s cottage, part of the Storrs estate.

Lizzy’s story opens up as a parallel narrative, that reads like historical fiction, delving deep into the experiences of a young working-class woman growing up in the mid-1800s. She works in the house of Reverend and Mrs Wolfenden, who ask about Lizzy’s family lodger, Mr Moore. They request Lizzy spy on her lodger and report back to them. Mr Moore is an intriguing character, with an identity as an agitator and a democrat, against a backdrop of a roomful of books from Shakespeare to Robinson Crusoe. The relationship that forms between Lizzy and Mr Moore is complex, highlighting the vulnerability of Lizzy’s adolescence in relation to an older man, and depicting the intersectionality of gender and class oppression. She is a woman with few choices, torn between a relationship of clumsy beginnings with an older man, versus the man she is supposed to marry. The story also highlights the impacts of the Chartist Movement of the time, which added interest to the narrative.

With well-drawn characterisation, centred around an intriguing property, this made for an interesting blend of history amidst an unsettling haunting.

What are you reading?

Elemental Spring

Early spring passed mostly in a flurry of wind and rain, and plenty of time to stay indoors with Blood Gift Chronicles and the magical twists and turns and soaring heights of Book 3’s WIP. But every now and then the weather holds long enough for a trip outdoors to see a refreshing sight.

From the stately home of Knighthayes, watched over by Devon’s rolling hills, and marking a grand presence over sprawling gardens of giant trees and early blooming rhododendrons…

To the watery expanse of Fernworthy reservoir, where moss-covered woodland is a step in time with magical realms…

For work, a visit to the local radio station was a highlight, in recognition of International Women’s Day. No photos this year but a reminder of last year’s late show with the phenomenal Mama Tokus, and our wonderful host, Kerrie Seymour.

It was great to be able to return this year, contributing to the ambitious 24 hour radio take-over by Dreadnought South West, sharing poetry themed on IWD, and chatting about writing, books and all I have coming up this year, including WorldCon and an epic trip to Glasgow in the summer. I’m super excited for a jam-packed, SFF weekend, and a chance to meet up with my lovely publishers, Stairwell Books.

Closer to home and we’ve just emerged from a weekend book festival on the Hartland Coast.

It was blustery there too, but a great chance to visit the dragon rocks of Hartland (or at least that’s how I see them), in the lovely company of my wife. I wrote The Warder before ever visiting this place, and yet I spy familiar sights with dramatic rock faces, circling birds of prey, rugged paths, multi-toned wild gorse, and a distant island view – Lundy Island in real life. With a writing week ahead, I’m inspired.

And while the blustery wind and rain has returned today, so too has spring made an appearance.

Wishing everyone a good week ahead…

For the Love of Books #30

Approaching the end of February and taking a break from the UK rain, with a feast of worldbuilding in two epic fantasy recommendations… Enjoy.

The Wolf and the Water; by Josie Jaffrey

Big things come in small packages: an apt phrase for this modest-sized book that contains a world of extraordinary depth.

If you like detailed worlds, family sagas, crime, intrigue, and a protagonist to champion, then this is for you. I was rooting for the protagonist from the start, a young woman called Kala, considered doubly sullied by the powers that be: once for her father’s foreign birth, once by her disease that left her crippled. She is heir to the tribe of Glauks, in the city of Kepos, a walled city that borders the sea. Unknown to Kala there is a second, secret sea, and a forbidden pool where she goes to swim and feel free from the pains in her body.

When her father unexpectedly dies, everything changes. Kala’s mother must remarry, and proceedings are put in motion for marriage to a man, Nikos; a dangerous man not to be trusted. Left trying to find a place for herself in a newly ordered world, Kala looks for allies she can trust: Melissa, a girl brought to her as a companion, someone she grew up with and is close to; and Leon, Nikos’ son. Characterisation includes a complex love triangle further demonstrating Kala’s uniqueness and individuality.

Kala suspects poison was the weapon used to kill her father, and she vows to do whatever she must to determine the truth. It is a plight which takes her deep into the heart of this dangerous world built on complex tribal politics, headed by the Archon and a priesthood of hierophants. Forced to question her own foundations, there is self-discovery and family revelations, and a journey through this world and beyond, to ‘the edge of shadows’, the wall, warded by Acolytes to keep the dead where they belong.

“I think if I could just push my fingertips through the centre of my chest, I could pull my rib cage open like wings and let it all fly out of me.”

The narrative is as sharp as cut glass, appropriate for a story that demands attention. Based on a world inspired by Plato’s account of the island of Atlantis, prepare for a complex society, with dynamics and entanglements of a broad cast. This is the story of Kala, and her fight for the truth: who killed her father and why?

The Unspoken Name; by A.K. Larkwood

The Shrine of the Unspoken One is cut into the mountainside, looking out over the House of Silence nestled into the valley. There, fourteen-year-old Csorwe is raised to be the chosen bride, an innocent vessel through which the voice of the God can speak.

I loved the opening to this epic fantasy, which reminded me of Le Guin’s Tombs of Atuan, with its edgy, sinister world holding a girl hostage to a tragic fate. In The Unspoken Name, the story explores the spiritual and cultural depth controlling Csorwe’s life in the House of Silence, as she awaits a tragic fate: the day she will sacrifice herself at the Unspoken One’s shrine. But a month before that day, a stranger arrives seeking counsel for his quest: where is the Reliquary of Pentravesse?

According to the library of the House of Silence, it is an inadvisable quest, with all manner of ill consequences following in its wake. But the wizard Belthandros Sethennai finds the idea irresistible and prepares to head out. Although he will not go alone. On the day of Csorwe’s sacrifice, he waits in the shadows, tempting her to leave with him, and live. As he says, “The secret of greatness, is to know when you should risk the wrath of God.”  

So begins an unlikely adventure of a runaway and her new master, through inventive worlds delivered with magical description that brings to life an imaginative feast of worldbuilding, with vibrancy and colour supported by a wonderfully diverse cast. Csorwe is at the heart, on a journey of survival and self-discovery, adapting to her changing circumstances, transforming into a heroine of the free world.

What are you reading?

 

Shades of Inspiration

It’s been a busy start to the year. Approaching the end of January and I wonder where the month has gone. Manuscript edits are under way, and I’m enjoying time spent with my characters in a world that grows more colourful, and more daring with each scene. And my collection of shorts and poetry is also growing; it’s wonderful to get out and about sharing words.

As always, January is the time for making plans, signing up, and getting dates in the diary. The excitement of the year is WorldCon coming to the UK. Plans are underway for the trip to Glasgow, with the added bonus of the guest of honour who just happens to be one of my favourite authors… guess who…

‘People get inspired to write, paint, draw, sing, sculpt, dance in many different ways. And there are many types of art. But the one thing that they all have in common is that they are all a sort of magic. Sometimes the magic flows from one’s fingers, other times it is transferred to the person who experiences the result. Magic has always worked in mysterious ways.’ – Nnedi Okorafor.

And a recent book-haul is just waiting to be devoured.

Inspiration comes in many forms, and I’m lucky to have so much around to inspire. A recent trip to the Pulp Exhibit in Bovey Tracey was a glorious injection of colour on a cold afternoon, and an interesting look at the interface between art, the environment and how we question the world. The sculptures are made from recycled cardboard and it’s the second time for me viewing this artist’s work. James Lake, it won’t be the last.

My own art project is underway, inspired by local Devon and Cornwall surrounds – more at a later date. And I continue to venture out and about, soaking up scenery that one way or another finds its way into writing.

From big skies over the Teign valley, watched over by Castle Drogo…

To waterwheels, ancient bridges, giant oaks and winter snowdrops, lining the River Bovey.

Close encounters with the outdoors, spying the layers of nature and colour making up the scenic tapestry, is the best inspiration for building worlds. And that’s where I’ll leave you for today, while I travel through the pages of my latest instalment of Blood Gift Chronicles. There may not be snowdrops, but there is yellow gorse and purple heather, and natural extracts to ward off the curse of the evil eye…

Have a great week!

For the Love of Books #29

With cool blue skies and frost on the horizon, I’m warming up with a deep dive into SFF collections; short stories that spin the unexpected, pack a punch and make you think, all while flexing the bounds of imagination. I bring you two titles by two extraordinarily inspiring authors…

Danged Black Thing; by Eugen Bacon

Eugen Bacon is an exceptional writer and I was honoured to receive a review copy of Danged Black Thing ahead of its much-anticipated release. Traversing the west and Africa, this unique collection of shorts is both dreamlike and lyrical, while delivered with the sharpness of cut glass. It is speculative and mythical inexplicably wrapped in the mundane.

It begins with Simbiyu, amid the colours of forest laced with the sweet scent of crushed guavas and the intermittent whiff of soured yams. Childhood against a rural backdrop brought alive on the page is told in textured layers of family amid the brusque contrast of loss. A boy longing for the comfort of his once pillow-soft mother, forges his way in the world, winning a scholarship that will take him to Australia. But roots cannot be shaken, and while the heady colours of home are a welcome memory, shadows of the past tighten their embrace. When the story came to an end, I found myself wanting to stay, to know more of the character that had revealed worlds in just a few pages.

This is a remarkable collection of voices exploring migration, gender and class, patriarchy and womanhood; a collection that pushes the boundaries of creativity and science, delving into family, love and loss across time and space, speaking to the future with detailed imaginings of a landscape filled with warnings to heed, and questions about what it means to be human. And that is just the first two stories.

There are tales of revenge, aliens and fantastical beasts, explorations touching each phase of life, drawing on the power of ancestors, tradition, and vivid descriptions of both modern and fantastical worlds. The prose is soaked in truth, empathy and invention, transporting you deep into physical place and breathless mental imaginings. Each word leaves you hanging in this collection that feels like a colourful celebration of life, complete with flaws, scars, magic and beauty.

Bloodchild; by Octavia Butler

Bloodchild is an innovative collection of shorts, inventive parables to the contemporary world, small in size and huge in reach. In true Octavia Butler style, the protagonists are strong and complex, and the themes astute and challenging to the status quo. The collection begins with Bloodchild, the story of a colony of humans in an extrasolar world, forced to make startling accommodations with their hosts. A perfectly weird, unsettling and memorable story that asks the question, what would you be prepared to accommodate to pay the rent?

Another story, The Evening and the Morning and the Night, explores life with a disease that causes the sufferer to feel trapped and imprisoned within their own flesh. In a world with woefully inadequate institutions and devastating consequences, the question is raised: what can we do, what can we become, what are we in relation to undeniable genetics?

Rooted in the mundane, shining a light on the bleak, brought to life with inventive experimentation, the stories transcend through alien invasions that give a whole new meaning to community, moments of tenderness shining in an apocalypse, to the big question – what would you do if you met God? Plus two essays which give great insight into the author’s journey as a writer, and her resulting advice to those of us following in her footsteps. A thought-provoking read. Highly recommend.

What are you reading?

 

Happy New Year 2024!

As New Year’s Eve turns dark outside, the storm is raging. Batten down the hatches, grateful for a moment of peace to reflect on the year gone by. 2023 has been a busy year for writing, starting with a chance to guest blog with the esteemed fantasy author, Sarah Ash. It’s the second time I’ve been lucky enough to be invited, and for anyone who has yet to read from this author, I can highly recommend visiting her many titles. Songspinners, has been one of my favourite reads of the year: the intriguing tale of Orial, a girl navigating the labyrinth of the Undercity to practice the art she has taught herself, the art of music that is her magic; in a world that is dark, evocative and beautifully drawn, a place of musical telepathy, faeries, dragonflies, and mystical reservoirs await…

Book conventions and festivals from Birmingham to the New Forest, to the Hartland Peninsula of Devon, to the city of Kansas, USA via the wonders of zoom from my writing room were all highlights. With readings and panels, it is wonderful to share, to discuss, to learn, to inspire, and be inspired. And there are lots more creative ventures to look forward to in 2024. I look forward to sharing more as news unfolds.

For now, in the lull between Xmas and New Year, in between blustering gales and rain, it was lovely to catch a few snatches of dry clear skies to enjoy a moment of the outdoors around home, and nature, for a breath of fresh air before it’s back to work. Between the lakes of Stover, with afternoon sun, fluffy clouds, scenic forest, gorgeous lakes, poetry, wood carvings, curious squirrels, hungry ducks, and a woodpecker…

 

To the fresh sea air of South Devon, and Teignmouth’s old port, and beaches crammed with colourful boats with stories to tell…

To the bright lights of Torquay to feast on this year’s bay of lights, where more wild seas await, crashing to and fro towards Xmas trees and festive Torbay palms looking especially jazzy.

And back home, where a sleepy cat awaits, and another good read beckons.

Wishing everyone a happy, healthy, peaceful New Year, 2024!

 

For the Love of Books #28

The last day of November, and we wake to a fine drizzle of snow. I imagine it will be fleeting, but it’s cold, and the perfect time to cosy up with a good read. I have two titles, inspired by the atmosphere that snow, mist, winter weather can bring. I’m not thinking jolly season’s greetings, more like the bleak atmosphere of separation, and unease. I’m late for Halloween, but the first title brings a malevolent spirit into a snowy scape…

Dark Matter: A Ghost Story; by Michelle Paver

Jack Miller never intended to join the Arctic mission, but despite himself he heads to the islands halfway between Norway and the Pole. The expedition team are to study Arctic Biology and ice dynamics, and carry out a meteorological survey. It’s a mission meant to last a year, but the Arctic wilderness has a dark history. Stories told from the time when the Arctic islands became part of Norway in 1925, tell of lethal accidents and marauding bears, men going mad from the dark and loneliness, shooting themselves, walking off cliffs for no reason. One expedition group in the early days refused to leave their cabin, out of terror of the deadness beyond, a terror reportedly not rooted in some phobic disorder. Now, the terrifying events in Gruhuken are about to be relived, and recorded in Jack’s diary, beginning 7th January 1937.

A malevolent spirit walks this icy wilderness, and the bleak surrounds provide a perfect backdrop. It’s easy to feel like prey in the face of polar bears with dirty brown pelts stained by blood and blubber, but not so easy to shake the feeling of being hunted. Dining on reindeer and an eclectic mix of tinned food, offers little comfort, and after a series of events, Jack finds himself alone except for the huskies. The rising feel of impending doom is well drawn, subtle and engaging in a foreboding environment, and Jack is soon left to consider whether writing will exorcise his demons, or whether speaking about it will just invoke them?  Either way, the spirit wants Gruhuken, and Jack Miller is standing in its way.

Central to the story is the question: Is it the dark people fear, or what lurks in it? It’s a question which drives the narrative, bringing an intriguing balance of unsettling apprehension, fated unease, and a lingering dread, teasing, tangible, yet never quite in reach.

The Fox; by Solveig Palsdottir

What do you do when your arrival means the world, when your presence is so symbolic, you simply must not leave?

Guogeir Fransson, hoping to put professional tragedy and personal turmoil behind him, leaves the Reykjavik police force for a dead end job in a small town in eastern Iceland. His detective instincts are triggered when a foreign woman arrives into this tight-knit community, and suddenly disappears soon after. The trail takes him to a remote farmhouse where an elderly woman and her son live with a sinister past.

Sajee, from Sri Lanka, arrives in Hofn to take up work in her aunt’s beauty salon. But it seems the job does not exist. Help from a friendly stranger takes her to the farm of Selma and her son, Isak. They offer board, lodgings and the promise of pay for cleaning and help around the place. It seems like a practical solution to Sajee’s problem, but it is an offer wrapped in mystery. Sajee’s vulnerability is clear. From Sri Lanka’s chaotic district of Colombo, growing up she was left alone with a violent father, finding sanctuary at the local beauty shop among cheerful women, until the shop was forced to close. Postcards from her aunt, who had travelled to Iceland before her, were the hope she had clung to. Now she was alone and illiterate in a strange land. And Selma’s eyes were watching, too closely. What familiarity did she see in the young woman that drew her so tightly? Was it Sajee’s cleft lip that she discretely attempted to conceal? Was it illusion?

The characters were well-drawn and entirely believable. The backdrop to the story is cloaked in mystery and folklore that I found completely compelling. The dead are in the family plot, but the hidden people, tall, dignified, with unlimited senses and a higher consciousness dwell in mountain cliffs. They help people in trouble, spirit problems away, but when wronged, revenge is bitter. Victims have been known to go up in a puff of smoke, or be driven mad. The farm skirts a harbour town where shipwrecks mean people are forced to watch husbands and brothers drown, a place of depression and alcoholism, where people go off the rails. As the layers of mystery unfold, I was absorbed by the world and the unexpected, unfurling of sinister events. A read made more chilling by its relatability, as we are taken down the path of unwittingly losing power; how our own insecurities can trap us, how trust can be fatal.

What are you reading?

 

Representation and Belonging in SFF

It’s been a busy couple of weeks, firstly taking part in this year’s World Fantasy Convention all the way to Kansas from the comfort of my writing room, because there’s no place like home.

With fabulous authors from all over the globe, reading and speaking on a great range of panels, there’s much to inspire, to share and collaborate. For my part it was a pleasure to sit in on the Magical Healing and Disability Aids in Fantasy panel, discussing representation of disability in the genres, and exploring the added creative options that magic and the fantastical can bring. Thankfully representation of diverse abilities is improving. A recent cinema trip introduced me to the character, Joshua in the film, The Creator, a wonderfully layered character, a double amputee with seriously fancy prosthetics in this world of AI. Still, his disability is kept visible, representation organically woven into the character arc of a hero.

It got me thinking about the book, Noor, by Nnedi Okorafor. Noor is the main character, a young woman born with significant disabilities, further disabled in a car crash as a teen. The story is her journey into cybernetics, rebuilding herself in unique ways, focused on the aim of wanting to move through the world on her own terms. And it’s a wonderful read, as is Broken Places and Outer Places, Nnedi Okorafor’s auto-biographical novella.

Empowered characters pushing back against the ableist view that disability needs to be fixed or cured in order to live a fulfilling life. Professor Xavier didn’t need a cure, and neither did Bran Stark on his journey from childhood underdog to all-powerful three-eyed raven. Just a few more recommendations to add to the conversation:

And last weekend, from Kansas to the New Forest here in the UK, where I joined my lovely publishers for the Play on Words Festival at the wonderfully colourful Forest Arts Centre.

Friday was a gorgeous evening of readings, and among other wonderful authors I was delighted to read from The Warder, a world of gifts and curses, animism and magic, where characters are inextricably bonded, against a backdrop of mysterious dragon mythology. Saturday saw a day of inventive workshops, including one on the subject of young adult fiction, facilitated by myself and Victoria L. Humphreys, author of Not the Work of An Ordinary Boy. What content is too mature for teens? What ways can we approach tough content in books that are inclusive to the younger reader? There’s not much you can’t tackle, it just depends on approach, and, done right, what a wonderful resource books can be, creating space to process difficult stuff, share stories, harbour that all-important sense of belonging. And there’s just so many great YA books out there, too many to name, but here are a few favourites:

      

In the midst of a storm, I was lucky to catch a blue sky and have a moment to contemplate the power of stories, to reflect, give space, inspire, and offer that sense of belonging.

What are you reading?

A Season of SFF

The start of a busy week, following a busy bookish weekend, at a time of year I’ve come to think of as convention season. Saturday saw a day trip to Bristol, for this year’s BristolCon, and what a wonderful day! A great time was had in the dealer’s room, and in particular in our corner of the room alongside inspiring authors and innovative small presses. The lovely Josie Jaffrey, author of The Wolf and the Water, was a pleasure to chat to, as was Max Turner, writer and producer of the diverse press, A Coup of Owls. And of course it was a pleasure to meet and talk with readers at my own book table.

There was chance to give a reading to a roomful of fantasy lovers, swept away with Wanda’s hawk flight over the grasslands of Shendi, from The Warder, Book 2 of Blood Gift Chronicles. And it was great to take part in a panel that kicked off the day, answering that all-important question, how to turn an idea into a novel, or novella, or short story for that matter. It reminded me of my humble beginnings, living in a bedsit that was a beautiful, creative space, with a door that was covered in post-it notes scribbled with characters, settings, scenes, plots… notes that frequently got moved around, repositioned, added to, until a story was slowly taking shape. That story turned into Return of the Mantra, many, many drafts later.

Into this week and I’m looking forward to the coming weekend spent tucked up in my writing room for the four day online convention that is World Fantasy Con, live all the way from Kansas, a place that inspires the word, story. With authors from around the world, I love the international feel, and look forward to taking part in the programme, discussing representation, and in particular, disability.

For now, a moment to savour my current read, The Green Man’s Heir by Juliet E. McKenna, a simply magical read with a whole new contemporary feel to the folklore of Dryads.

What are you reading?

Wishing everyone a great week ahead…

Stories, Writing and Comic Fun

A busy weekend gone by at Comic Con, surrounded by stories old and new that have inspired through the ages, demonstrated by those who fully embrace the characters they love, with impressive cosplay and fun encounters. The craftmanship and animatronics is always awe inspiring, from clockwork owls, giant centaurs, a transformer or two, many more, and of course, Darth Vadar and his army of storm troopers. The Star Wars franchise is always a favourite of mine, not least because the time span of the series demonstrates the progress made for equality. The evolution of female characters is a subject in its own right, but oh, I do love Rey – maybe one day I will see her make an appearance there… In the meantime…

It was of course also great to discover new readers, and to chat with those who have read or are reading my own Blood Gift Chronicles. Accompanied by my artwork, and self-made props, it was great to be able to offer more immersion into my world, from the crystal mines of Shendi and the lost mountain lions, through the changing landscapes and the faces of those who carry us through, to tales of dragons, and real-life colonies of flying lizards. The geography and wildlife that inhabits the various land and waterscapes is as real in my mind’s eye as a blackbird’s song, and it’s lovely to share that vision with others. This is what stories are made of.

And of course some readers are writers, and with a fair few years under my belt, with various ups and downs along the way, I’m always happy share, to inspire, and of course in turn be inspired. And so for any budding writers out there, a few points that came up in conversation amid comic fun:

Find your routine, your groove, your working motivators whether that’s allocated time or word counts, and Just Write. Procrastination is the enemy. Talking about writing is not writing. Wanting to be a writer is not writing. Just write. Don’t get caught in edits, just get the story down. Beware of rabbit holes, maintain perspective, you’re the writer not a player, so Just Write. Writing is rewriting is rewriting… that’s how you build, that’s how you discover, that’s how you finish… And then you start all over again. Just Write. If you’re looking for an easy way through, you’ll be disappointed: there is no easy way, there’s just you. Are you a writer? Then Just Write.

Have a wonderful week…