Ruth Miranda's Blog

The Seven Year Itch - Blogversaries, Book Releases and a Portuguese Broa de Milho with Walnuts and Raisins

 

On February the eleventh this blog turned seven years old. I know it's been mostly abandoned, lately - there's only so much I can do, and I'm constantly stretching myself thin! - but I do come here for the occasional post. Though I no longer blog as I used to, though I no longer photograph food as I used to, I still try to keep up and have some fun, now adding books to the equation. But the truth is, if four, five years ago I eagerly longed to feel like I belonged to the food blogging community, that need has died. I was very serious about it and worked very hard at it, always to no results - motivation tends to start dying when things turn out to be a constant failure. A shift in mindset was necessary, and that's what ended up happening. My books took precedence - after all, they did give me an income, no matter how meagre it is! - my writing of novels became far more demanding, and frankly, far more satisfying and interesting. There came a point where all I wanted was to sit and write those stories, to hell with all the rest! And as you can see from the above photo, yes, I have yet written another novel. It was published on the thirteenth - halfway between Lunar New Year and Valentine's Day, because this is a love story set between China and the UK.

I wrote this novel last year, and it was a bit of an unexpected tale. The basis for it, the bones, came to my mind during a road trip to Alentejo. Pet Shop Boys' 'West End Girls' started playing on the radio, and as the song reached the line There's a gun in your hand and it's pointing to your head I had a sudden image sprung to mind of this one character, sitting on a bathroom floor, gun in hand pressed against his forehead, crying in despair. Seconds later, I had the whole character, down to the reasons he was sitting there, pondering taking his life. Well, part of the reasons, to be fair. This was September, perhaps October, I was wrapping up another project, took a few notes, put it aside. By November, the entire thing was fleshed out in my mind, and I started working on it. My goal wasn't really to publish it sgtraight away, I like to give those drafts time to breathe, to leven, like bread. But truth be said, the breads I prefer cooking are the ones that don't require proofing, the ones I can mix together and throw in the oven straight away. So it happened with Danseur. To be honest, when I finished writing I was convinced I had something really good in my hands - something that differed so much from my usual genres that I wanted to try it out there, see what readers made of it. See, I was convinced this was a light, fluffy, tender romance. It wasn't until the first ARC readers' feedback started coming in that I realised maybe it wasn't all that fluffy, after all...

Fact is, I can't do light and fluff, no matter what. I always have to throw a pinch of dark and doomy and gloomy, a bit of angst, a pinch of strain. It is what it is, and I won't complain, I like my writing as I like my red wine - the darker, the better! So, even though Danseur is a contemporary, happy ever after, MM romance, there's a darkness to it, seeped in the characters' past and the strifes they've endure, what they're going through, their own personal, private journeys. It's a love story, yes, but it's also a self-love story, a tale of redemption, of second chances, of growth, of change and of healing. Above all, I believe it's a tale about healing. And I don't think I've ever written two characters who were so perfect for each other, honestly. You can get hold of it right here, should you be so inclined! It's like the combination in this bread: a typical 'broa de milho' has been transformed into something else by adding raisins and walnuts and a bit of rye. Sometimes, it takes the smallest things to elevate something to near perfection, and it happened here, in this cornflour bread. This is more-ish, tasty, almost decadent. It's filling as well, it'll leave you feeling very satisfied and nourished, and pairs up real well with strong cheeses and wines, but you can eat it with a spreading of butter and you won't go wrong, either. It's become one of my favourite breads!

And here's what you need to you make it yourself:250 gr cornflour200 ml boiling water10 fresh yeast1 tsp salt150 ml lukewarm water125 gr rye flour40 gr regular flour50 gr walnuts20 gr raisinscornflour and semolina to dustPlace the cornflour in a stainless steel bowl, add the boiling water and knead. Allow it to rest for an hour. Dilute the yeast in the lukewarm water with the salt, add this mix to the rested cornflour and knead again. Add the rest of the flours and knead once more. Mix in the raisins and the walnuts and check the dough for consistency: it needs to be firm but sticky. Dust the dough with flour, cross mark the top and place it in a bowl, to rest for an another hour. When the top of the dough has cracked, it's ready for the oven. Move it to an oven tray dusted with flour and bake for one hour at 200º. Once it's cooked, let it rest over a grid before you tuck in. Enjoy!

2020, The Year from Hell? - A reminiscence and a Quiche

 

Wow, what a year this has been. I don't even know where to start, it's been the strangest, weirdest, mind-blowing year I've ever lived through. Looking from the outside, at first sight, all that comes to mind is how bloody awful this year has been. How dreadful, how terrible, how scary, how terrifying, how depressing. But was it, really?

Where it comes to me personally, I'm not so sure. Yes, there were some really bad moments through it all, wealth-wise, there were some really big worries draining me of my joie de vivre, there was a lot piled up on my shoulders - and as usual, far too much was demanded of me. Being the fool that I am, I felt obligated to deliver.

But where 2019 was the year I found myself lost and bereft of hope, 2020 was the year that opened my mind. It was the year that upped my game. The year that made me myself, perhaps. It's been far from a year from hell, in personal terms. It has been a year of tremendous growth, of personal achievements, of being daring and taking risks without even caring for other people and the results I may get from there. It's been a year where I stepped closer to being unnapologetically myself.

It was probably THE most productive year in my life - although I only published two books. This pandemic not only gave me the time to really sit down and write, but with everything going on, I found myself just so inspired, so in need of hiding away in my own little imaginary worlds, so focused on keeping the crazy at bay, I ended up writing far more than I had thought I would.

Ten whole books. That's how much I wrote this year. None are ready for publication, of course, they're all at different stages of drafting and editing and re-writing, but I am oddly proud that I penned down ten different stories. Some belong together - there's a duology, there's two novels belonging in the same universe - but most are stand alones.

And it wasn't just the quantity that got me doing a happy dance, it's the quality. Of course there'll be moments of terrible self-doubt as I work (eventually) through these novels and prepare them for the world, but I honestly believe there's so much improvement in my writing. The thematics haven't much changed, true, but I've allowed myself to go darker, to touch all the taboos in a manner some might find shocking or even disgusting, I've allowed myself to really waltz with darkness, without holding back.

And I've allowed myself the freedom to produce what my mind demands, with no restraints.

It was also the year I allowed myself the freedom to drop things - I abandoned quite a few projects. Some I hope to get back to, others, not so much. These are mostly relationships, to be honest.

I started the year writing Alchemy of Chaos with an intention of publishing it for Halloween - it didn't work out that way, but hey, that's 2020 for you! - and found myself needing to address other voices, other characters, dive deeper into certain issues, try new and different things. I felt an immense need to not restrain myself with this book, and just let the madness seep into it all - insert wicked laughter here, please. It's dark, and probably darker than the Blood Trilogy Series (though Marcus and Cai for me are pretty dark too!) and it's also a little twisted and very much aimed at an adult audience who likes a bit of mystery and Dark Academia, a genre I had wanted to try for years. But I never felt I would be able to pull it off, until I went for it. We all have our timing, 2020 was my year for playing around with all I'd been too much of a coward to try before.

But the need for taking a step out of my usual did not stop there. I blame a few books for setting me off in writing so much of what I penned down this year, and it all started with Nora Skavic's All For The Game trilogy. I found myself swooning for the characters - Andrew Myniard, anyone? - and their stories, their passion, their hurts and aches and struggles. And found myself hooked on a genre I hadn't yet tried reading - let alone tried writing! 

BL became a bit of an escapism for me, when the outside world was driving me crazy, and from there to reading Chinese danmei cultivation novels, was a very short step. Even shorter was the step to start writing in this genre. All of a sudden, my mind was full of stories of boys falling head over heels for other boys, and I wanted to tell them all. All of a sudden, my head was also full of dark, twisted circumstances happening in these tales, and one of those novels I penned down far surpasses much of the triggering issues I've tried to address so many times before. That one is dark indeed, it is kind of a descent into hell. Dealing with themes I often go back to, I've not refrained from putting it all out there. There's violence in those pages, and if a few years ago I'd be terrified of how readers would accept it, this time I didn't even consider that.

From there onwards, it was all a 'downwards' spiral of trying to play with certain thematics, especially where relationships are concerned. Toxicity, consent, loyalty, fidelity, abuse, these all play large roles in my stories, this year, in ways I did not refrain from, like I would have in the past. I may or may not publish these tales - only time will tell - but writing them has been so liberating, so enriching, it has brought me so much growth and self-knowledge, it has made my writing so much better.

And although this was the year I wrote and wrote and wrote, I only published two books and boy, did that take a toll on me! The endless editing, the formatting, the nagging little issues that seemed to take forever to sort, I swear this is what kills my motivation, in the end. Writing is a breeze, for me, all the rest is excruciating (although I found myself actually enjoying editing the novel I plan to publish next year, to celebrate both Lunar New Year and Valentine's Day). 

I published the second volume on the Heir of Avalon trilogy (a must for all the Arthurian retell fans!), A Darkening Fate, still during Summer, and it far exceeded my expectations, where it comes to sales as did Alchemy of Chaos, which I published last month. Not so much with the reviews, but that's life for you. Another thing I had to do this year was burn a few bridges, for the sake of my mental stability, and that took a toll on certain things. But being that annoyingly hopeful person I am, I'm still sure my books will find their audiences, the readers who will love those tales and nerd about them.

After all, I've been taking a few chances and getting out of my comfort zone, and I believe this can only bring me good things in the end!

2020 also brought a few other changes. My newsletter - which hardly anyone of my subscribers even reads - has gone from monthly to whenever I have something to announce (there will be one, this month). This food and books blog has taken an immense nose dive, but I just wasn't in the mood, the only thing I've wanted to do this whole year was write stories - I couldn't be bothered with promoting and marketing effectively, I couldn't be bothered with photographing, cooking, styling, working on anything that wasn't putting those stories down, silencing the voices of those characters in my head. I always try to listen to my instincts, and if they told me I needed to write, then I needed to write and do nothing else. 
But it's been a year for pondering and doing a lot of soul searching, thinking about where I am in this career of sorts I like to claim I have. The publishing world is cut throat, believe me. The self publishing world is even more so, trust me. It demands your soul, your blood, your sweat, your everything, and more often than not, you get nothing in return. If 2019 had me asking if this was what I was meant to be doing - writing and publishing - 2020 assured me maybe I needed to try something different, where it came to publishing. It set me out to search for other forms of sharing my writings and making money from it - make no mistakes, this IS my livelihood, and yes, I want to get money for it, and no one is ever going to shame me for that again. I want to write because I love writing, but I want to earn a living from sharing that writing, and this isn't wrong.
I first considered going back to Wattpad, but put it aside immediately. Once was enough for me, don't think it's the kind of platform where I fit in. So I started looking into Patreon, as I knew a couple of people who started one, and were quite satisfied with it. Taking a leap of faith, I opened my own. This is a place where I intend to share more about my writing process, where patrons get access to deleted scenes, chapters from unpublished work, character studies, book covers and blurbs way before the rest of the public, and from January onwards - there will be an online novel with bi-weekly instalments! So if this is something you might enjoy, head on over to my Patreon site and join in on all the fun!

One thing that hasn't changed is my love for certain comfort foods, like quiche, and my favourite still is spinach, tomato and mushroom quiche, with some Flemish cheese on top to make it all more interesting. Here's the recipe:
Start with the pastry:
100 gr strong bread flour80 gr spelt flour100 gr unsalted butter5 - 15 ml cold waterpinch of saltscant teaspon of herbes de Provence, driedTo make the dough you simply pour the butter and the flour onto a food processor and blitz until it becomes a crumbly, sandy mix. Now pour it onto a lightly floured surface, add the pinch of salt and the herbes de Provence and start adding water until it all starts binding together, with the help of a knife. Roll into a ball and cover in parchment paper or cling film, refrigerate for at least half an hour. Then you just need to roll it and carefully spread it over your pie dish. As for the filling you'll be needing:

3 eggs1 pack of cream1 pastry sheethalf a dozen fresh tomatoes, sliced thinly250 gr spinach150 gr mushroomsolive oila few slices of Flemish cheese, to your likingsalt, pepper, nutmeg, powdered garlic, white wineStart by turning on your oven at 180º. Place a frying pan over a medium heat with a good glug of olive oil in and let it heat up. Add a dash of powdered garlick and let it infuse the oil just slightly. Now toss the mushrooms in and cook them over low heat. Season with salt, pepper and a drizzle of white wine to freshen up. Once they look done, but not overly cooked, take them off the heat and allow to cool. Spread the pastry over your oven dish and with a fork pinch through the bottom of the dough to allow it to release steam when it's cooking. On a bowl beat the eggs with the cream, mixing thouroughly. Season well, with salt, pepper and nutmeg. Now toss the mushrooms, spinach and tomatoes onto the pastry, add the Flemish cheese. Pour over the egg and cream, and bake in the oven for about 30 minutes or until it's cooked through and golden. Remove and allow to cool before serving. 


I hope this year hasn't been too hard on you, and that you've gained something through it - there have been quite a few blessings coming my way, so I can't help feeling rather grateful for this whole crazy year. Wishing you all a MERRY MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!
May the next one be special! 

China, hanxia, synchronicity - spelt and carob loaf that is a step from the norm, but still familiar

Let me ask you something, do you believe in synchronicity? Do you believe the universe sometimes conspires to lead us along a route, a pre-determinied way, steering us in one direction or another? Do you believe some things are meant to be? I've always thought so. And whenever I look back on my life, I do find - with that awesome power hindsight gives us - that life, the universe, whatever, steered me in a certain, specific direction where it comes to me becoming a full time author. Because of that, I promised myself I'd start paying more attention to certains coincidences, certain details, certain little signs. Because it might be nudging me to something really good, and if I don't pay attention, I might just miss it. And I don't want to miss out on things that enrich me, make me soar, help me grow, give me wings. I don't want to miss out on something that might just be it, know what I mean?

So let me tell you a little story, here. Last March, before we went into lockdown, I was browsing through Pinterest - as one does, to settle one's brain and search for inspiration, right? No? Just me? Okay, then... - when a certain image pops into my feed. It was a photo of an Asian looking young man, with long white hair, wearing some sort of Japanese kimono and holding an umbrella. That image instantly translated into a character in my mind (used in a certain fantasy duology about kings and princes who want to change their world). Of course I started browsing for other images alike, and all of a sudden I was lost inside a black hole that led me to discover the manhua Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation/ The Founder of Diabolism, and from there to the Chinese TV Drama The Untamed, was a very short leap. I started watching the show while frantically searching for the novel Mo Dao Zu Shi by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu, and fell into the fandom like a fifteen year old - I swear it's that good! 

And this opened up a world I had not foreseen. Rewind this all a lot of years into my past, I have mentioned often the connections my family had with China and especially Macao, here on this blog, so I'm not going into it. Suffice it to say, I've always been fascinated by Chinese culture, history, aesthetics. I got married in a red Chinese dress, need I say more? I'm obsessed with Chinese cinema, especially if it's Chen Kaige, Zhang Yimou and Wong Kar-Wai. When I was my son's age, my favourite show was Young Shaolin Heroes, I had a huge crush on Bruce Lee, have seen most Jet Li films, you get what I mean. But somehow along the way, I lost touch with this. And I have so little knowledge of Chinese fantasy novels. Discovering hanxia and xianxia was like a breath of fresh air, not just because I've been tired of western literature for sometime, I've also been exhausted of western television. Coming across shows like The Untamed, Dance of the Phoenix, Ever Night, has made my imagination soar wildly. Reading Mo Dao Zu Shi has opened new horizons for me. This has brought me inspiration beyond my beliefs, and a longing, a desire to experiment with new things. New universes, new worlds, new fantasies.

All this to say that, thanks to that photo popping up on my Pinterest feed, I found myself drawn to things I would probably kept on ignoring. I wouldn't have come into contact with things as unusual for me as Cultivation novels, or Chinese period dramas that weren't directed by the big names of years gone by. This has led to my imagination soar and pull forth a different kind of story, set in a different kind of universe from what I usually pen down. Inspired by hanxia and xianxia, fed by the tales of Cultivation and their demonic counterparts, I've penned down a little tale that for me, it is such a delight. Of course my characters are still angsty as hell, and disturbed, and twisted. There's still violence and self-doubt, forbidden loves, unexpected friendships, people who can't deal with their emotions, blurred moralities - or it wouldn't be a book by me! But it's been so refreshing stepping away from western canon fantasy and diving head first into this newfound world of possibilities that already a new story is brewing in my mind and I'm sizzling with ideas. When I was becoming stale and trapped inside the same old, same old, the universe comes and offers me this, how can I not believe in synchronicity?


All this to say, sometimes we need a breath of fresh air, we need to let in the new, the unexpected, the different. Like these cupcakes. I wasn't a fan of carob until I tried the flour on cupcakes and became addicted. Pair it with spelt and it's a boost in flavour and aroma you won't be able to resist. Just like pairing Western genres to Eastern fantasy styles has been a boost in my imagination and creativity. Here's how to get yours:
200 gr bread flour100 gr spelt flour50 gr carob flour7 gr baker's yeast200 ml lukewarm water1 tsp salt1 tbsp vegetable oil - and here you can go nuts, incorporate a world of flavour.Turn your oven at 180ª. Pour the water and the oil into a bowl. Mix the salt with the flours on another bowl and crumble the yeast into it. Mix together then add the dry ingredients to the wet. Knead for about fifteen to twenty minutes - or use an electrict implement, of course. The hook on your stand up mixer will do the work nicely. - until dough is soft. Let it proof inside the bowl covered with a kitchen towel, inside a dark cupboard, until it's doubled it's size. Pour onto a flour-covered surface and knead for a few minutes, place in a loaf tin that's been lined with parchement paper and allow to proof for at least another half hour. Then pop it in the oven with the fan on for the first twenty-minutes. Once the bread is golden on top, pop it off the tin and place it in the oven tray for another ten minutes or until the sides make a hollow sound when you tap them. Allow to cool before you serve.

Birthing a book - and scones, because they do make things better

Been a while, huh? Hell, it's been forever, might as well say it! Truth is, I did neglect this blog like the terrible blogger I am - there was a time I pretty much blogged everyday, but I feel like blogs are pretty much dying and right now, I have so much more on my hands. Last time I published here was in May, and to be honest, I did think about posting pretty much every week during June and July, but life gets messy, and you have to choose your priorities, in order to not drive yourself wild and scatter yourself all over the place. Mine, lately, have been far more centered in my career as an author than my hobby as a food blogger. And the last three months were really rough, if I'm to be honest.

I April was a month where I happened to thrive - writing a novel in 16 days! - May, June and July haven't been all that productive. After last post, I went back to my fantasy duology about Kings and Princes who want to change the world, but struggled to get back to it. In the meantime, an online conversation with a fellow bookgrammer spiked my imagination and planted a seed of a story in my head. It wasn't long before I was making a Pinterest board and a YouTube playlist, noting down character sheets and plotting the whole thing in my mind, while taking random notes. By mid June, this too, was written. A kind of spirit possession/ haunted house tale that I fell in love with, because it led me to revisit places and moments from my youth, little details that marked me in my twenties and that I never did forget. The settings are all very familiar ones - and it's the first novel I've written that's set in Portugal - for I visit them every Summer, even though certain places don't exist anymore.

As soon as I was done with that story, my author's copy of A Darkening Fate arrived, and I dived into the final round of edits and rewrites. My plan had been to publish it early in June, it was the end of the month when I was finally done with the revisions. It wasn't even going to be an early July launch, and to be honest, the sales results I'd gotten from the previous months were really getting me down. At one point, I asked myself if I was sure this was really what I should be doing with my life, if it was even worth it. But, seeing I can't think of anything other that makes me as happy as writing does, I persevered, and on the 15th of July, A Darkening Fate hit the online stores! I have to say, it's not quite the end of the month and the results have been AMAZING, far beyond anything I expected. So I do have to shout from the rooftops a loud thank you to all the readers who took a dive into this crazy story and bought a copy, you have no idea how much this is appreciated. It also helped to dispell a little of my doubtful frame of mind as to whether I should or shouldn't be doing this.

As for the writing... well, it did take a bit of a nose dive. Let me explain, I had a very hard time getting back to my fantasy duology, I did sit down to write, I did add progress to it, managed to write a few scenes, but my head wasn't quite in it. Because another idea was already brewing, and once again, the story was so vivid, the characters too, I simply had to get down to business, which means writing that story down, too. Thankfully, I have managed to come to a shcedule of sorts - which is another thing that's gone out the window with this pandemic and that's been doing my head in, not having the house to myself for most of the day, and having to spread myself thin even more than I did before. Sometimes I feel that my work is always taking second place where it comes to this household, it is always far less important than everything and everyone else. And that does drive me out of my mind. But a compromise has been reached and now I'm able to divide my attention and my time between both novels - with another one already blooming at the back of my mind, of which, dare I say it? I have already made a Pinterest board and taken extensive notes for! I can't wait to get to that one, honestly, am really excited with what I've imagined so far.

But before I do, I've made a vow to finish first draft on my two current WIPs, and with July at an end and August looming near, I'll probably be off on our yearly beachside holidays, where I tend to put in a lot of words - go figure! So before I go and leave this blog abandoned and neglected once more, here are some lovely scones, to celebrate my most recent book launch and its amazing results! 
340 gr flour60 gr sugar50 gr melted butter1 egg1 dl milk2 tspoons baking powder1 tspoon saltStart by sieving the flour and the baking powder into a bowl, add the rest of the ingredients and combine, gently kneading it all together - do make sure you do not knead it like bread, just amass the whole together until it binds. Pour it on a workbench that has been lightly floured and make a roll out of the dough, as if it was a big sausage. Cut the roll into even pieces and set those on a baking tray covered with baking sheet. You can do an eggwash on top of the scones, and then just bake them on a pre heated oven until they're blonde, I skipped that bit though they do look better for having it. Anyway, I hope you have a great Summer, hope that August treats you right, and if you haven't yet, go check my new book, who knows, maybe you'll find your Summer read!

A month that sped by - How to write a novel in sixteen days, fail publishing another, and bake bread rolls to compensate

It's been a while, hasn't it? Last time I posted here was in March, we had just gone into lockdown, I was working on book two in a fantasy duology, and finishing edits on A Darkening Fate prior to publishing it. All stoked for publishing it, actually, as I was falling in love all over again with the story and the characters (especially Artuír and Morganne, I confess). Enter April. The fastest month in the history of the world, it seems to have sped by like a comet, blazing the sky (to kind of paraphrase The Waterboys, though I failed to see the whole of the moon because no balcony and lockdown). I honestly kind of blinked and April was gone, you know? Even though there was a lockdown in place, and you'd think time would stretch to inexorable lenghts, I found that days sped by like lightening, and I was always busy, busy, busy, adapting to a million new things, working with a thousand changes to my domestic and professional life, adjusting to everything being thrown our way. I thrived during this Portuguese lockdown, to be honest (as I write this, we're already easing the measures of confinement here), and I managed to get so much done I'm still knod of knocked off my feet about it all.

It was a good month. Hell, who am I kidding? It was a rather excelent month! I finished the edits and rewrites on A Darkening Fate at the end of March, and on April 1st - already counting on delays because of this whole new world order - I ordered my author's copy of it so I could do one last, full revision (swear to you that I always find so many things to change when reading the books on paper! That's why I make this part of the process, and an important one at that, I cannot feel comfortable publishing a book I'm pretty sure I'll still find issues with once I reread it in paper support. And it has to be a specific paper support, none of that print it on your home-printer shite. It has to be book format. Real book.) The due date stated for me to get my hands on it was by April 22nd, which would give me all the time during May to work the final changes and get it right for an early June release. So I put it out of my mind. And went back to my duology, eager to pen down the rest of that story and help a couple of characters take over a stolen kingdom and maybe change the world.

But then, eleven days into the month, as I am working on continuity issues on my book, I had this epiphany. Well, it can't be called an epiphany, it wasn't really that. It was far less mystic and a lot more weird, I think. I was putting down a list of events that had to take place, and working out a timeline for stuff to happen - you don't just march somewhere and take over the land, especially if you've been kidnapped and made a slave, right? - when I was struck by this image in my head that was so strong, so vivid, so brutal. So realistic. All to the sound of one particular song playing on repeat in my head. I knew I had something there, so I instantly opened a new doc. file and jotted down the basics of what came to my mind. It was a bit of a character's bio, in fact, two characters. And the way they crossed paths was clear in my head, an entire scene visually playing on repeat in my brain. This was a Saturday, I remember it clearly, after lunch. I wrote everything I could about those characters and their pasts, added a few snippets of dialogue and interaction between them, did the character worksheets and even made up a Pinterest board with visual inspiration. As well as a YouTube playlist. By the end of the day, the story was going over in my mind, scenes jumping up and down my brain, and I couldn't get back to my other work. So on April twelve, I started writing it.

And in sixteen days, I had an entire novel that completed diverted from most of what I've written so far - but then again, it doesn't. Yes, there's a bit of paranormal in it, because there's a vampire, only not the MCs. And yes, there's some brutal shit going down in the lives of those MCs, and they have very dark, traumatising pasts, and they're very broken and damaged and desperate. So there's all those elements that are very usual to me, I think, and it's a very character driven tale as usual, but unlike the rest of my work, this is mostly and mainly romance. Yes, pure and unadulterated romance. M/M, I grant it, which I toyed around with in other instalments but never fully dug deep into (it was very organic, though, to write. As if I was possessed by the whole story LOL). It's even got a closed ending, which is something I haven't done in... oh, let's see, forever? A happy ending, too, to not divert from the romance staples where the MCs do end up together, riding into the sunset in their happy ever after. But it was the only ending that made sense here, which isn't to say they don't go through hell to get there. So, at that moment, on April 28th, I had this novel finished and was stoked about it but a little deflated. Not only because it was over, but because A Darkening Fate's author copy did not arrive, and wasn't going to. I would not be able to publish it when I'd planned to.

Now, this got me in a mindset that I frankly don't want to be in, and am struggling to get out of. With all the crazy that's been going on, sales (in every single market, not just books, I think) have gone down A LOT. I was hoping to rev them up a bit with a new release, get a few ones with the new instalment on the Heir of Avalon trilogy, get a little income coming in - small as it is. But not having the paper copy to work on, I don't really feel comfortable with publishing, so I'm not going to. Which means there will hardly be any sales for the forseable future, and I am trying to work my mind around it and not let it get to me. I am trying really hard to convince myself it's just a momentary setback, and soon it will all be better again. But nothing is ever going back to normal, and because there isn't a local Amazon, I have to go through Spain, and we all know how much that country has been affected by this entire situation. Right now I don't know when I can even order a copy of my book again. I tried doing it earlier today (I have a very narrow window where I can order something online) and the delivery dates were appaling, which made me think it would just be another no show. Seeing I can only order once a month at the very start of it, it'll be another month before I can even try again. So right now, I don't think I can publish the book before Autumn, and seeing that means there'll probably be no sales until then, my stress levels have skyrocketed. I'm trying to not let it affect me, but...

In order to pull out of that defeatist and negative mindset, and because the lockdown has seen us indulging a tad more (both hubby and kiddo are home fulltime), here are some pretty delicious cheese and cured meats rolls we spruced up one of these days for a laid back, yummy dinner. They're really easy to make, and a treat on the tastebuds. Here's how to:350 gr flour7 gr fresh yeast200 ml lukewarm water1 tsp salt1,5 tbsp olive oilfive to eight slices of your favourite medium hard cheesefive to eight slices of cured meat of your choice - chorizo, prosciutto, ham, bacon, pork hockStart by pouring water into a bowl along with the olive oil. Mix the salt into the flour, crumble the yeast and add it to the mix. Pour into the bowl and using the hook implement on your mixer, knead for 5 to 10 minutes, until it's smooth. cover with a cloth and allow the dough to rise for at least one hour. I prefer to let it go for two and a half, three hours. Once that time has elapsed, turn on your oven at 180º. On a floured surface stretch out your dough and knead it slightly. Divide into smaller portions (it makes about six to eight rolls, depending on the size you aim for) and stretch each one out. Place the meats and cheese in the center and fold the dough around it, forming the rolls. With a knife, score some cuts along the lenght of it. Transfer the rolls onto a baking tray lined with parchement paper and allow to bake until golden. The time it takes depends on the oven, I use mine at 180º with the fan on, and it's between 20 to 40 minutes to bake, according to quantities and size. Hope you enjoy it, and I hope my next post brings better publishing news and that I have a new release to announce, or something like it!

Self imposed isolation and the toils of life - chocolate and carob cupcakes for added pleasure

Oh wow, it's been a while, hasn't it? Over a month since I last published here, but I'm of a mind not to force myself to do things I don't have the headspace for just for the sake of doing them. And I sure did not have the headspace for blogging these past weeks. I had very little headspace for anything at all, with stuff going on in my personal life that left me unwilling and unable to do much more than go about what was strictly necessary. And the strictly necessary was providing my family with a sense of normalcy and going about the home life trying to disturb their needs as little as I could. Trying to see to my personal needs too, and these called for complete distancing from a number of things - including people, blogging, writing, socialising. I think I went into isolation before I was called to do it.

See, February was rather complicated, and then March took off in the same wavelength. At first, I had a hard time dealing with everything, and found myself dispirited, disappointed, hurt by events and attitudes that were completely out of my control. At a certain point, we were all pretty sick, which made everything even worse. Cough, fevers, utter exhaustion, trouble breathing and the worst muscular pain we have ever experienced. Does it sound familiar? Yeah, we had it way before the first cases of COVID-19 were made public in Portugal. Those were some intense weeks, with trouble after trouble and worry after worry piling up on top of it. I reached a point where I simply didn't care anymore, and just needed to be left alone, in silence, with my dearest ones, so I could recharge and heal myself. I also found out - again! - who I could and could not count on. Once again, the universe made it a point of showing me just how on my own I really am, and the moment I needed a kind word, a caring ear the most, I found there was none. It was eye-opening and humbling.

It's always humbling to realise people don't even notice if you're kind of missing. If you're not there anymore. It puts so much into perspective I found myself under an entire shift in my inner workings due to it. I found myself turning a page I never knew I was to turn. And realising a lot of what was going on inside me was actually for the best. A lot of the disappointment or hurt caused by others' actions was in fact, for the best, where I was concerned. I was suddenly infused with a new spirit and a mindset that had the little hindrances and all that at first sight looked like rocks in my way turning into actual opportunities and strokes of luck. Some necessary changes took place, some necessary cuts were made, some most needed purges had to happen, and they all did. In that time, I managed to go through a huge change inside me, another one. It's a bit depleting and I always wonder where am I gonna end, but somethings that had looked so challenging and difficult, so unfair and hurtful, now feel like they were necessary if only to open my eyes.

And then the self isolation and social distancing came into being. Schools closed, some people started working from home. Streets got emptier, stores got shut, the State of Emergency took place. Now, a week later, my son is being home-schooled, something that doesn't really happen in Portugal. My husband, a teacher, is teaching online classes everyday. Their lives have drastically changed. Mine hasn't. Another in my face moment, to realise that the only real changes that occurred in my life were that now I have them permanently at home and I no longer had to go for one hour school runs twice a day. There goes my daily walking! Nothing else changed for me, as I work from home and I have been socially distancing myself from most people for the past ten years. It wasn't an easy transaction having them home full time in one aspect only - I'm far busier now than I've ever been! But I managed to get on with my work, and now, almost four months into the year, I've written a stand alone novel and am on the final chapters of the first book in a duology. Have also managed to make some progress on my editing of book 2 in the Heir of Avalon Trilogy.

With no big changes in my life, I am actually not very worried but for the economical aspect of all this. I'm trying to keep a positive mindset that this will soon be over and won't much damage the economy, and nothing really bad will come from this, but ten years ago we were undergoing an economical crisis that stripped us of all we had. It's hard not to worry when I've seen first hand how employers tend to lean into the excuse of a crisis to strip workers of their rights - including salaries. It's hard not to worry when I've gone through the experience of us being both employed and not being paid, while our expenses piled up and the bills piled up and we couldn't even make ends meet. It's hard, but not impossible. I keep telling myself it'll all be fine, it won't be the same, we will be all right, but the moment I saw the sales results for February and realised how my books had dropped significantly, my blood did run a little cold. Not that I make a lot from my books, but I did do something, and for the past five, six months, I'd been getting a little, regular income from my writing. I tell myself it'll pick up and we'll be all right, and honestly, there's not much more I can do but believe that. Believe that and keep writing, keep working, keep baking us some treats to sweeten our mouths and our moods, right?

Like these chocolate and carob cakes. Intense, but not too much, they were soft and more-ish, small enough so that I indulged in a couple without feeling too guilty. Here's how to bake them:150 gr butter at room temperature100 gr flour50 gr carob flour100 gr dark muscovado sugar3 tsp baking powder2 tbsp dark cocoa powder - unsweetened3 large eggs1/2 cup of chocolate chipsWhisk the butter and sugar until creamy, fluff and pale. Add the flours, combined, the baking powder and the cocoa, alternating with the eggs one at a time. Fold in the chocolate chips and pour into cupcake tins - I use silicone ones - and bake in the oven at 180º for twenty to twenty five minutes. Check with a skewer to make sure they're baked, let them cool before eating. I hope you're staying healthy and safe and taking care of yourselves, we will all be fine!

Of books that race your pulse and swell your heart - Spinach and cheese soda breads for the win

Very few things make me as happy or give a high as much as writing. One of them happens to be reading. But not just any book. I will read pretty much everything and push through to the end, unless it is so badly written I can't go on or I simply cannot relate to the plot and characters. This last tends to happen with what's commonly denominated as chick-lit (which I find demeaning and disrespectful at best) and rom-coms. Contemporary romance simply doesn't cut it for me, I am not a fan. I'll take classics anytime, give me all the Austens, all the Brontës, give me the passionate and endearing love stories of old, just don't give me modern love in girly books. As for the rest, I'm perfectly happy with Fantasy books in all its subgenres, I'll take Paranormal Romance and swoon if it has vampires, I'll jump in on any thriller or mystery book that finds its way into my hands. Mystery was, and will remain, my first love.

But the truth is, although I will read most any book, not every book gives me the high I crave, that feeling I get from writing. In fact, rare are the books that speed my pulse, shorten my breath, fluster my heart. Rare are the books I find myself constantly thinking of while I'm reading them, the ones I cannot wait to go back to, the ones that populate my mind and dreams so obsessively I long to live within them. I remember feeling like this when I was younger and spent all my free time nose stuck between the pages of a book. Back then, I seem to be more easily captured by the contents and the characters and the stories. Many were the books that made me feel this way while growing up. From Dostoievski's White Nights and the Gambler, to Dumas' The Three Musketeers, from Stoker's Dracula to Brontë's Wuthering Heights, from Laclos' Les Liaisons Dangereuses to Stendhal's Le Rouge et le Noir, not to mention every Stephen King I laid my hand on, I feel I was so much easier to please when I was 15, 16, 17.

Now that I'm much older I feel like I'm less easy to please. Don't get me wrong, there's been an awful lot of very entertaining books I've read these past few years - I'm not counting re-reads, which was all I could do for close to ten years, as we couldn't afford new books. Since I got a tablet, my reading game has upped a lot, as I can get really great discounts or books for free. And I've been lucky enough to nail some really great reads. But books that wrapped sharp claws around my heart and refused to let go, these have been sparse. And although I mostly read self-published authors these days, I find that the trad-published books I do get to read are no better, in this department. I honestly fear spending money on trad pub books because all I've done lately is be disappointed by them, and wonder how on earth did that get trad-published.... All this to say that, even though I've read plenty of books that have entertained me immensely, only a few of those had me jumping up and down in excitement at the thought pf reading them. Rare were those that made my pulse race while reading them, and gave me a sense of high equal to writing. And they were all self-published.

And nothing inspires me more than the books that do this to me. Nothing gets me more excited to write, more inspired than reading a good book, a well written story. Nothing infuses me more than being completely swept up into someone's imaginary world. Makes me want to do the same. Makes me hope someone, somewhere, someday will feel the same while reading one of my books. That tightening of the heart, that speeding pulse, that sense of complete and utter joy. I want to give this to my readers, and nothing makes me more hopeful I can do it than reading a book that makes me feel this. I get more discouraged by reading books that feel bland to me, or books where all I do is find fault, than reading a superb, outstanding novel. When I read a book that grabs me completely, I don't even find myself wishing I had written it, or that I was able to write something like that, no. I find myself grateful I get to read that book. And this is what I want people to feel when they read my stories. It's kind of the same as I want them to feel when they eat my food, you know?

It's pretty much what happens with these soda buns. They are so scrumptious and more-ish you won't be able to resist. Filled with spinach and cheese, they are to die for, and perfect for a carefree, casual dinner. Here's how to get them:250 gr flour100 gr rye flour200 gr chopped spinach leaves50 gr of grated cheese - I used a Portuguese cheese that's tart and pungent, a bit spicy1 level tsp salt1 tsp soda bicarbonatea pinch of oreganoa pinch of thyme1 egg300 ml buttermilkStart by preparing the buttermilk in advance, fifteen minutes in the least, by mixing a dash of cider vinegar or lemon juice to 300 ml of milk. Once ready, turn on your oven at 190º. On a large bowl, mix the flours, the spinach, the herbs and the cheese with the salt and the bicarbonate. Prepare the buttermilk egg mix by beating the egg lightly and then adding it to the buttermilk, mixing the lot thoroughly. Now, with the help of a fork, whisk the wet mix into the flour mix and stir. Once it starts to come together, lightly flour your hands and a cold working surface and pour the batter onto it. Pat together until you form a rough ball, but do not knead it. Divide it into smaller balls. Transfer the dough onto a baking tray lined with parchment paper and flour, sprinkle some more flour onto the top of the breads and with a knife score a cross or a star over the surface. Place in the middle of the oven and bake for about forty to forty five minutes. Take it out of the oven and allow to cool on a rack. 

What is your life purpose, your true destiny? Ch��vre and fig pasties to help you ponder on your goals and dreams

Well, I did not count on staying away from this blog for so long! The year is almost a month long, already, and I can't really say I've been so busy I couldn't even breathe. It's not that. It's not that I didn't have recipes and photos for the blog, either. It's just that in fact, my mind wasn't quite on it, as it has been distracted by plenty of other things. Fatc is getting back to routines after the holidays was rally hard, is being really hard. For the first time in many a year I did take time off, I did slow down my work load, and I did step away, to do nothing more than rest, eat, read, and play endless board games with my loves. And it was EPIC, let me tell you. It was so good to slow down and unwind, to not care about numbers and sales and promos and pushing my books and reaching new audiences and getting reviews and writing more, better, faster. I made a decision last year and stuck to it: was only going to publish one or two books per year. I Am the Night, the fourth novella in the Blood Series Trilogy, was first, followed closely by Avalon Hall. The first was a spur of the moment kind of thing, the second was planned almost a year in advance.

I finished writing Avalon Hall (which is the first instalment on Heir of Avalon trilogy) in 2017. I decided not to publish until the other two books were written, which they were, by 2018. After letting them stew and sit for all that time, I fought with the decision whether to publish or not, because I wasn't on my best mindset last year. I struggled a lot with self-belief and what right did I have to be in this industry, and was on the verge of pulling all my books off and never publishing anything else again. But then something clicked in my head, and my entire frame of mind shifted. Suddenly, I had faith in my work, I believed in my capacities. And so I decided I had to publish the darn thing. I started prepping for it nearly a year in advance, with countless edits and re-writes, tons of graphs made for later promos and advertising, I had my author copy in my hands by the mid of July so I could work on it further, and when October came, all was ready for publishing. In the meantime, I'd written another novella on the Blood Trilogy series, edited, worked on it and published. It was a flop.And I mean a flop. Which is funny, seeing that in my opinion, that is my best work so far. Those lines, those paragraphs, that book is the best piece of writing I've ever penned down. But it tanked.

Avalon Hall, although it didn't tank, wasn't quite the success I'd been aiming for, or hoping for. It did all right, and has quite a few great reviews. But I think we, as authors, as writers, always feel that the book we're about to publish is going to be THE book that makes us. The breakthrough one, the masterpiece that'll get us all these new readers, all these fans, all these people who are so into our work they make fanart for it. I don't know if that's just me, though, maybe it is. I had hoped, after four years and ten books, either I Am the Night or Avalon Hall to be the ones who'd boost up my sales and my results, the ones who'd get my name out there and find me a host of passionate new readers. Alas, even though I worked my arse off and strived for it, it was not to be. Mind, the results I got were amazing, last year was amazing where it comes to my career, but as the year came to an end, and the new one started, doubt began to creep back in. It's stupid, I know, but it is how it is. Because the sales aren't happening, the reviews aren't coming in, and I find myself asking if maybe this is it. You know, maybe this is as far as I can reach. Maybe I've peaked and now it's all the way down from here. Maybe passion alone is not going to cut it for me, maybe being very passionate about something you do doesn't mean that something is your purpose, your destiny.

My novella Blood has been my best selling book so far, and the one who's garnered the highest number of reviews. And lately, I've been wondering if maybe that was my peak, I reached as far as I was ever going to as a writer when I published Blood. What if being a writer is not what I'm supposed to be doing? What if it's not my soul calling, not my life purpose, my one true dream? What if it's not my destiny? But how does one know for sure if one's following their true path, their dream? I often struggle with that and find myself questioning the decisions I've made lately, namely the ones that led me to becoming a full time writer of books that don't sell. What if there's something else out there for me, something I was supposed to be doing and am not? I once believed food blogging was my calling. Maybe I'm fooling myself again, maybe I'm stopping myself from seeing the reality of what I was meant to achieve, maybe I'm being stubborn when it comes to writing and am sabotaging the chance for something better, something bigger, something that was really meant to be. Because I got it in my head that writing is my true calling. my "mission" and I refuse to consider any other possibility. It's stupid, I know, but bear with me. What if I'm right? I try not to search for vaildation in others, I try not to go seeking approval from other people, but come on, as a published author that approval - from readers, who buy your books and keep on buying, consuming, reviewing and championing them - is necessary. As is the validation from them a necessity. Without sales, without reviews, what am I even doing here? So these are the questions that have been on my mind lately.

To pull myself away from such messy confusion in my head, I go back to photographing food, and books, and coming up with treats. This one was something we baked earlier last month, and it is one of my favourite things to eat. Ch��vre and fig pasties, laced with honey. It's positively easy to get together, and will leave you all warm and fuzzy eating it. For that, you'll need:one puff pastry recipe (get it here)one packet of ch��vre cheese - I used the one that looks like a loga few figs - depending on the amount of pasties you make, I used one per pastya drizzle of honeyeggwashStart by making the puff pastry according to instructions and allow it to cool in the fridge. Then roll it out on a cold surface, cut into squares the size you want your pasties to be. In the center of each square place a slice or two of cheese and the fig cut into thin slices or medium sized chunks. Drizzle the honey over it, fold the pastry and brush with eggwash. Bake in a pre-heated oven at 180�� until golden and puffed up, serve warm. Enjoy!

What is your life purpose, your true destiny? Chévre and fig pasties to help you ponder on your goals and dreams

Well, I did not count on staying away from this blog for so long! The year is almost a month long, already, and I can't really say I've been so busy I couldn't even breathe. It's not that. It's not that I didn't have recipes and photos for the blog, either. It's just that in fact, my mind wasn't quite on it, as it has been distracted by plenty of other things. Fatc is getting back to routines after the holidays was rally hard, is being really hard. For the first time in many a year I did take time off, I did slow down my work load, and I did step away, to do nothing more than rest, eat, read, and play endless board games with my loves. And it was EPIC, let me tell you. It was so good to slow down and unwind, to not care about numbers and sales and promos and pushing my books and reaching new audiences and getting reviews and writing more, better, faster. I made a decision last year and stuck to it: was only going to publish one or two books per year. I Am the Night, the fourth novella in the Blood Series Trilogy, was first, followed closely by Avalon Hall. The first was a spur of the moment kind of thing, the second was planned almost a year in advance.

I finished writing Avalon Hall (which is the first instalment on Heir of Avalon trilogy) in 2017. I decided not to publish until the other two books were written, which they were, by 2018. After letting them stew and sit for all that time, I fought with the decision whether to publish or not, because I wasn't on my best mindset last year. I struggled a lot with self-belief and what right did I have to be in this industry, and was on the verge of pulling all my books off and never publishing anything else again. But then something clicked in my head, and my entire frame of mind shifted. Suddenly, I had faith in my work, I believed in my capacities. And so I decided I had to publish the darn thing. I started prepping for it nearly a year in advance, with countless edits and re-writes, tons of graphs made for later promos and advertising, I had my author copy in my hands by the mid of July so I could work on it further, and when October came, all was ready for publishing. In the meantime, I'd written another novella on the Blood Trilogy series, edited, worked on it and published. It was a flop.And I mean a flop. Which is funny, seeing that in my opinion, that is my best work so far. Those lines, those paragraphs, that book is the best piece of writing I've ever penned down. But it tanked.

Avalon Hall, although it didn't tank, wasn't quite the success I'd been aiming for, or hoping for. It did all right, and has quite a few great reviews. But I think we, as authors, as writers, always feel that the book we're about to publish is going to be THE book that makes us. The breakthrough one, the masterpiece that'll get us all these new readers, all these fans, all these people who are so into our work they make fanart for it. I don't know if that's just me, though, maybe it is. I had hoped, after four years and ten books, either I Am the Night or Avalon Hall to be the ones who'd boost up my sales and my results, the ones who'd get my name out there and find me a host of passionate new readers. Alas, even though I worked my arse off and strived for it, it was not to be. Mind, the results I got were amazing, last year was amazing where it comes to my career, but as the year came to an end, and the new one started, doubt began to creep back in. It's stupid, I know, but it is how it is. Because the sales aren't happening, the reviews aren't coming in, and I find myself asking if maybe this is it. You know, maybe this is as far as I can reach. Maybe I've peaked and now it's all the way down from here. Maybe passion alone is not going to cut it for me, maybe being very passionate about something you do doesn't mean that something is your purpose, your destiny.

My novella Blood has been my best selling book so far, and the one who's garnered the highest number of reviews. And lately, I've been wondering if maybe that was my peak, I reached as far as I was ever going to as a writer when I published Blood. What if being a writer is not what I'm supposed to be doing? What if it's not my soul calling, not my life purpose, my one true dream? What if it's not my destiny? But how does one know for sure if one's following their true path, their dream? I often struggle with that and find myself questioning the decisions I've made lately, namely the ones that led me to becoming a full time writer of books that don't sell. What if there's something else out there for me, something I was supposed to be doing and am not? I once believed food blogging was my calling. Maybe I'm fooling myself again, maybe I'm stopping myself from seeing the reality of what I was meant to achieve, maybe I'm being stubborn when it comes to writing and am sabotaging the chance for something better, something bigger, something that was really meant to be. Because I got it in my head that writing is my true calling. my "mission" and I refuse to consider any other possibility. It's stupid, I know, but bear with me. What if I'm right? I try not to search for vaildation in others, I try not to go seeking approval from other people, but come on, as a published author that approval - from readers, who buy your books and keep on buying, consuming, reviewing and championing them - is necessary. As is the validation from them a necessity. Without sales, without reviews, what am I even doing here? So these are the questions that have been on my mind lately.

To pull myself away from such messy confusion in my head, I go back to photographing food, and books, and coming up with treats. This one was something we baked earlier last month, and it is one of my favourite things to eat. Chévre and fig pasties, laced with honey. It's positively easy to get together, and will leave you all warm and fuzzy eating it. For that, you'll need:one puff pastry recipe (get it here)one packet of chévre cheese - I used the one that looks like a loga few figs - depending on the amount of pasties you make, I used one per pastya drizzle of honeyeggwashStart by making the puff pastry according to instructions and allow it to cool in the fridge. Then roll it out on a cold surface, cut into squares the size you want your pasties to be. In the center of each square place a slice or two of cheese and the fig cut into thin slices or medium sized chunks. Drizzle the honey over it, fold the pastry and brush with eggwash. Bake in a pre-heated oven at 180º until golden and puffed up, serve warm. Enjoy!

Taking stock of the year behind - Christmas-y croissants for your Holidays

And here we are, the end of another year just around the corner, and what a year this one has been. Not my best, nor my worst, but there were moments when it sure felt like hell, when I felt like giving everything up was the only possible way I could try and get some peace. It felt like there was a war raging inside me, a battle so powerful I could only come out of it changed. Singed, battered, but changed. Which in the end, I believe I did. Now, change is necessary, but isn't always easy, nor is it easily accepted. Sometimes where we are is good, warm, comfortable, and we don't want to get out of there, we don't welcome change. But other times there's a need for it so strong and powerful you just know if you don't embrace it, you are never going to be fully well, fully complete, fully yourself. This kind of happened to me, I didn't seek out change, I wasn't working for it, but I was forced to embrace it. I needed it to happen, for my sake. For the sake of my own mind.

Career wise, this was a particularly good year. It may look like I got nothing out of it, or didn't quite accomplish much, but that isn't true. I wrote an entire trilogy and a novella. Deeply edited, re-wrote, re-checked, re-read and edited again two books, which I then formatted, did the covers and published. One of these two books I am particularly proud of, actually, and believe I've done some of my best writing in it. I also took plunges I never thought I would, or actually, did, but was terribly terrified of taking those steps. Constantly thinking I wasn't good enough and would never manage to understand how to do those things, or how to get them done well. But I did dive into the unknown and slid off my comfort zone, and of course, it went well. I'm proud of myself for having tackled those things, although they didn't earn me any benefits, so far. Still, this is a bit of a marathon, not a sprint, and I'm confident I will eventually see how these steps have really benefited me and my journey.

I also took on a few side projects, which have been a lot of work. And I do mean A LOT OF WORK! But they've made me feel revived, excited, wide-eyed in wonder at the possibilities that may come out of it, and I sorely needed to feel this way. I sorely needed to infuse myself with hope and belief, with pride and the sense of a job well done. So maybe I heaped even more on my plate - which was already full! - and maybe I keep biting more than I can chew and not taking enough time off to rest, but the truth is, these projects have gotten me feeling really excited for the future and their outcome, so what's a little more work on my already full load? As long as I organise myself, my days and my weeks, stuff gets done. And I go to sleep with a sense of fulfilment, more than content. So there again, professionaly wise, I had a very good year.

Sure, I would have liked more sales on my books, and more reviews as well. I'd love to have readers rave about my work, about the characters, I'd like nothing better than people talking about those stories and those characters as if they meant something to them. I'd love nothing more than really getting those sale numbers sky high, of course, I do dream - and work for it - of at least contributing for my family revenue with the fruits of my labour. Because it's a labour of love, and it comes from the heart, from the belief that what I put out there is good, and does good. I like to think my books entertain, yes, but also mean something, go way deeper, and maybe they can even help readers. So, yes, I would have liked more sales. But I had a few, and for that I'm ecstatic. Overjoyed, actually. In a business that is so, so crowded, getting a couple of sales for me is a massive win. And I do mean massive. It was really a very good year, where my job is concerned.

Was it good in personal terms? I was put through hell, internally, this year. I started out with a serious crisis of self-worth, with no self-esteem at all, doubting every single decision and whether I was on the right path or just wasting my time. I felt alone, abandoned, unloved, unwanted by society in general. By the end of the first trimester, I was ready to give up, never publish again, pull off all my books. Because I wasn't good enough for this, for the business. Because I couldn't afford - financially speaking - to be good enough. But then something snapped inside me, and a few books found their way to my hands and my mindset changed. Because what I believed my books lacked (professional editing and proofreading, professional formatting, professional book covers made) these had. But while some had stunning covers, the author hadn't even bothered re-reading and self-editing their work. Or the cover was lovely, the formatting pristine, the editing professional, but the writing lacked soul, felt like it was done by a robot. And this changed my whole frame of mind. I gained a sense of worth I hadn't found, because I was looking for it in the approval, the acceptance of others. The more I tried to be part of their posse, their clique, their group, the more I felt an outsider, and therefore, lacking in worth. Then I asked myself why did I need these people's approval? Why did I need them to like me, or my work? Why did I need them to welcome me into their tight-knit, extremely closed off community, to feel loved, to feel liked, to feel good about myself? When all I ever got was down? This was really the turning point for me, because I realised I didn't need it. I needed my approval, my acceptance, my realisation that I do work VERY hard at making my books the best I can, and that is all that matters. This was really a game changer. I may travel this journey alone, but now I travel it with a little more self-love and esteem, a little more understanding of my own value, and it doesn't depend on others. It was a year in hell, for me personally, where it comes to my own mind and my private self, but it was a year of learning, of growing, and I am stoked for what's coming. It's been a year of immense gratitude for all that I've been through, all that I have learnt, all the people who crossed paths with me, those who stayed and those who left, I thank you all. 

I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, as this will be the last post on this blog, for the time being. The journey continues, and I will certainly come back here with new recipes and delicious food, but for now, I'm doing something I haven't in the past five years, I'm taking a break. I leave you with these chocolate filled croissants that are to die for, and so very Christmas-y, what with their spices and the wonderful scent they leave in the kitchen... Here's how you can get them:150 ml milk2 tsp turmeric3 to 4 strands of saffron1 small pinch of ground ginger, ground cinnamon, ground nutmeg or all spice1 small pinch of mandarin zest1 cup strong bread flour1/2 cup of rye flour1/2 tsp salt2 tbsp light muscovado sugar100 gr dark chocolate chopped roughly into small piecesknob of buttereggwash (facultative)Start by heating up the milk on a pan, with the turmeric and the saffron. Bring it to a simmer, add the rest of the spices and the mandarin zest, then turn off the heat and take the pan from the stove. Allow to infuse until the milk is lukewarm. Pour into a measuring jug and add water until you have a total of 175 ml. On your stand up mixer bowl, place the flours, the salt and sugar, and on the opposite side the yeast broken into crumbs. Add half the milk and water and using the hook implement, mix it up, on the lowest speed. Add the rest of the milk slowly and increase the speed. Mix until the dough has gained consitency and then keep mixing for five minutes. Cover with a kitchen towel and let the dough proof for two hours on a warm, dark place. I usually pop it in the oven and let it sit there in the dark. Once it has doubled the size, pour onto a floured surface and gently knead the dough so you take out the excess air in it. Roll into a large rectangle with a floured rolling pin and melt your butter in the microwave oven. Also, turn on your oven at 180º. Brush the butter over the dough and scatter the chopped pieces of chocolate over it, making sure you leave at least a centimetre on the edges. Fold the upper half of the dough onto the lower one and press down. With a dough cutter cut triangles and roll them into crescents. Brush them with the eggwash and place them in an oven tray that's covered in parchement paper. Bake for about twenty minutes, until they look golden and fluffy and done. These will be a welcome addition to your Christmas table, trust me, and they also make for a sweet little stocking filler!


                         HAPPY HOLIDAYS, EVERYONE!