Sarah Barnard's Blog, page 16

Anger, hope and losing the fight.

Sometimes life conspires to send a message repeatedly until you sit up and take notice. You can call it the Cosmos, God, or coincidence, or whatever you like, but it happens. This is nothing to do with writing, everything to do with life and words.

Warning, Rant coming up.

A couple of days ago I noticed one of those "If you're a nice person you'll copy this status and change the world." things on facebook. Within an hour it was all over my friends list. I can't remember what it was for. It won't change the world, it won't change attitudes, or find a cure, or whatever. Seriously, it won't. There are better ways of making a difference.

Then this one popped up:

All of us have thousand wishes. To be thinner, to be bigger, have more money, have a cool car, a day off, a new phone, to date the person of your dreams. A cancer patient only has one wish, to kick cancer's ass. I know that 97% of you won't post this as your status, but my friends will be the 3% that do. In honor of someone who died, or is fighting cancer, or even had cancer, post this for at least one hour.

Oh, get a grip. Wishing doesn't cure cancer, posting a status for a day won't help anyone fight it. Cancer patients, and survivors, and those bereaved, also have ALL those wishes, and more. They also have hope, courage and they need your love and support.

Just because I don't repost your stupid status doesn't mean I don't care. Remembering to ask a friend how her smear or mammogram went might help support that person. Getting off facebook and doing the Race for Life or another event might just make a small difference. Oh, and realising that if only 3% of your facebook "friends" are really friends then you might want to go out and get a life.

These status memes really irritate me, in case you hadn't noticed. I delete the messages, report direct requests as spam and ignore all the statuses.

Sometime yesterday I heard some sad news, and then this morning I stumbled across a blog post. They're sort of linked in that Cosmos kicking you in the backside kind of way.

The sad news.

A fellow author, talented lady and generously supportive soul, L C Evans, sadly lost her long battle with cancer. She and I bumped into each other now and then around various forums, on facebook and twitter and in other online places. She was always free with her encouragement and offered good advice freely. She'll be missed, she leaves a gaping hole within the independent writers' community online.

Go and take a look at her work, it's worth the time, go on.

The blog post.

As I do, often, I followed a link that looked interesting. I sat here reading as my tea went cold and then I wandered round the rest of the blog.

Awesome, honest and well said.

Wendy, your words spoke to me today. I wish you well, and I hope you continue winning and kicking the ass of that little c.

Linda, sadly, stopped winning.

Others are fighting, winning, losing. If you know someone, don't post on some social networking site, pick up the phone and call them. Send an email, a text, just say, "Thinking of you." Go round and give them a hug, make them a cuppa. Show you care. Get off your backside.

And, actually, it's worth doing that for your real friends whether they're sick or not.

Day three…

I think I see a pattern….

On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

[image error]December 27th.

On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

The day began bright and early and just as the sun was rising. I woke, worried that the damned turtle doves had been eaten, or escaped, or just flown away. But, no, they were happily sitting on the roof of the dove cote and they appear to have been decorating. Lovely. It's a good job you left some seed for them. It was sort of fun feeding them this morning. Scatter some seed and watch them come to eat. They are rather cute, very decorative. I suppose they'll stay as long as I keep feeding them. Would they survive if I let them go wild though? The sun, when it came up fully was gloriously bright, although still very cold. I need a large, strong coffee with my breakfast, or I'll not function through today.

Another partridge. Oven ready, vacuum packed, fair trade and humanely farmed. Not locally sourced. No bacon and no stuffing. Put it in the freezer with the other two. Now I have three frozen partridges. What if it turns out that I don't like partridge to eat? Did you think of that?

Thought not. I'm sort of impressed at the novelty of the gifts but I'm starting to see a pattern here. I really, really hope that the novelty will wear off before day six and beyond that, I think there may be repercussions.

A third pear tree. Pear wine for sure. And crumbles and pies. That's assuming they all survive and fruit. Also assuming I even get round to planting them, or even keeping them. I hadn't planned on turning the garden into an orchard of any kind, and definitely not all pears. How big do pear trees get? Aha, they should be kept trimmed to between six and eight feet in height or the weight of fruit will break the branches and kill the tree. I'll need some pruning shears at some point then, but at least they can be kept under control and at a reasonable size. I don't need a forest instead of a garden, regardless of whatever it produces. But three pear trees? Really? What are you thinking?

Doves, oh yes, that would be why the dovecote is so damned BIG. Chuck them in and hope the two already in there don't kill them. The other two are cute, by the way, very pretty and that sound they make is sweet. But did I really need any more?

French hens? Lovely! They're gorgeous, all salt and pepper dappled, dark grey and white, like a cuckoo, and so small. I thought hens would be bigger. These are bantams? Right, mini chickens that lay smaller eggs but still plenty of them. That's brilliant. Fresh eggs every day will be lovely. I've always wanted to keep chickens. I assume they are all girls? I'm not having any cockerels waking me up at stupid o'clock. I refuse to have any cockerels in my garden.

They have a coop and run too? Even better. Cute little bantams, very pretty and will lay eggs come Spring. And they'll help provide fertiliser for the garden and consume weeds too. I love this one. This gift has me grinning and skipping about happily. Practical and fun at the same time. I can't wait until Spring. Unless…. How old are they? Around twenty weeks. I see, I'm going to have to do some research on them and find out when I can expect eggs. Enormous hen house and run for three small hens, that's brilliant, they have plenty of room.

So, they're Cuckoo maran bantams, a French breed and oooh, they lay eggs with dark brown shells that look like chocolate. With them being around twenty weeks I can expect eggs from late March onwards. They'll need names. No! Roast, Pie and Curry are not an option.

But, what happens tomorrow? If there are any more pear trees then I think I may have to ask you for receipts so I can take them back. Maybe I can swap them for some other fruit trees, like apples. Maybe I can get a refund. Shame, really, because the idea was nice. Festive and a gift that keeps coming.

I don't know about you but I'm starting to fear for the poor, "True love" and possibly for Isobel's sanity too.

If you can't wait, Get your copy here.

Click the cover below for all ebook formats:

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Day two…

This is just the beginning, poor Isobel.

On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

[image error]December 26th. Boxing day.

It may not be snowing but it's cold and the garden is frozen solid where it's not an icy swamp. No tree planting can commence in the near future. I hope the tree will survive being just dumped in an icy puddle outside the back door. No way was I going to walk down the garden in the dark, and anyway it's sheltered by the back door so the tree should be fine. Aren't they dormant if they have no leaves? Sort of like hibernating but without a cave, or fur.

So, I've showered and cleared up some of the mess from yesterday when there's a knock at the door.

There he is, with a pot with a stick in, a plastic wrapped bundle and a birdcage.

On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

What? Another tree and another bird? Or is that the same tree and partridge from yesterday? Please tell me it's the same ones from yesterday? How did you get the tree from the back of the house? And have you been in my freezer?

It's not the same one is it?

I thought not. Bring it in then, and whatever else you have there.

Great. OK, two oven ready partridges. This one is organic, and humanely farmed, nice touch. There's not much meat on each one so just pop it in the freezer. There should be plenty of space, tuck it in a space somewhere, beside the one from yesterday would be a good spot. There's plenty of turkey and ham left from yesterday, and that needs eating. It should take us until mid January at this rate. I have to batch up and freeze a load, which is why there's space in the freezer, I knew I'd need it for the left overs. Why do we buy in so much extra food for Christmas anyway?

The pear tree can go outside, beside the one from yesterday. Although, quite what I'm going to do with two pear trees is beyond me. An orchard perhaps? A pear orchard. I wonder how you make pear cider. Or pear wine! Now, there's a thought. I think there are a couple of demi johns in the garage, I imagine that might be interesting. Of course, first I have to clear some space in the garden, plant the trees and somehow keep them alive until they finally fruit in a few years time.

No, I haven't planted the tree from yesterday yet, the ground's too cold and hard for any sort of digging and have you seen the weather? It's freezing and wet. Snow would be an improvement and I have no plans to even set foot outside the house for several days yet. Pop that partridge into the freezer would you, it can stay in there until I find another tempting recipe, or until we run out of turkey.

Yes, I know the freezer's looking fairly full, I stocked up so I wouldn't have to go shopping until New Year.

Gee, thanks.

What are these? Turtle doves? Very pretty dear, but where am I supposed to put them? They are lovely though, and that coo they made is very soothing. They're a bit like pigeons though, and I'm not really that fond of pigeons. What do they eat?

There's a dovecote in the garden? Really, I must go and see!

That's not a little dovecote, that's as big as a garden shed! Why is it so big……

I'm starting to have a funny feeling about this.

Check back tomorrow, but I don't think we'll reach the 12th day here, you'll have to buy the book to see how it all ends.

If you can't wait, Get your copy here.

Click the cover below for all ebook formats:

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A pear tree?

From my good friend, Isobel, who has had me in stitches at this….

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me, a partridge in a pear tree.

[image error]December 25th. Christmas day.

It's not snowing, no White Christmas for me this year.

It started out just like the song, which sounds lovely when you're singing it.

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me, a partridge in a pear tree.

A knock at the door, a tree with a mess of red ribbon round the bare trunk, naked branches poking from the top. More like a stick in a pot, really, but it's definitely a little tree. And a small, very cold parcel. Not gift wrapped, but wrapped securely in what feels like several plastic bags.

All presented with a wide grin and a warm hug.

At least it's a potted, young tree that I can plant in the garden. What a lovely thought, shame I don't actually like pears. At least not that much that I'd give garden space over to a tree. They take up a large chunk of space and resources you know, they need care, pruning, feeding, training. Fruit trees also take time to mature so there won't be any pears for a few years yet. Apples, now, that's different, I love apples. An apple tree would be worth the effort as long as it was the right variety, on a dwarf rootstock so it didn't get too big. Spartans are nice, crunchy and crisp with a sharp sweet flavour. Perfect. I suppose the pears might make nice crumble. Apple and pear crumble? Yes, that would work. Probably. If I had a bigger garden, and if I had an apple tree. Or if I even did much gardening, or if I was into growing my own food. I suppose I could try. After all, how hard can it be to keep a tree alive? Are pear trees even self fertile? See, I know something about fruit trees! Do I need two?

Thank you, I think.

A partridge though? Please tell me it's ready for consumption? I've never had partridge before, how big are they, and how do I cook it? Hell, it had better be oven ready or it's not staying. Where am I supposed to keep a pet partridge?

Phew, it's vacuum wrapped and already plucked and gutted, at least that's something. Did you bring stuffing? Not that there's much meat on it or really much space for stuffing. If I wrap it in bacon it might make a nice roast, for one. If I remember to defrost the bacon. Stick it in the freezer and I'll find a recipe later.

Google is my best friend. As will be my slow cooker once the bird is defrosted, probably sometime next year. I think slow cooked with some herbs and a bit of juice until it's so tender you can carve it with a spoon. Served with roast potatoes and glazed carrots and parsnips in pools of rich gravy. I think I'm going to enjoy that.

Novel gifts though, unusual and I can see you've put a lot of thought into it. I love thoughtful gifts, and unusual ones too.

Thank you.

See you tomorrow?

More tomorrow, or if you can't wait….

If you can't wait, Get your copy here.

Click the cover below for all ebook formats:

Isobel is also featured in the Ethics Trading anthology, After Dark.

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Where it began.

It seems that Lily isn't quite done with me yet.

The Portal Between opens with Lily living in our world and she appears to be in her mid thirties. She lives in an old farmhouse, with her son, Andrew, that she claimed had been in her family for several hundred years (The Map and The Stone, and The Portal Sundered.)

We know she has a sister, Heather, who is mentioned in The Portal Between and named in Child of the Portal, and we found out that she was Mistress of the land beyond the portals but she never shared the name she gave that land and she didn't talk about her childhood much either.

Then I did a character interview on here and she started to open up a bit more. Since then she's been back in my head and bits of her early story are trickling out.

"Come, I can help you." Green tinged lips moved in a pale face that was wet as if just emerged from water. Hair like river weed hung long around her face and she smiled as she lifted a hand to Lilith.

I said there'd be no more Portal books with Lily or Kate. I said there'd be no prequel. Apparently I was only half right. Lilith, aged 18, isn't quite done with me yet.

The Portal Between on Amazon US.

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Welcome home, Lads.

[image error]Today I saw a soldier cry.

He was marching, with his regiment, eyes front and proud, with tears rolling down his face.

Today, while doing my shopping, I paused to chat with another regiment member and then I, along with crowds of others, watched the 9th/12th Royal Lancers parade through my town. The whole route was lined with people, clapping them home, every step of the way. I wasn't the only one who shed tears as they passed. [image error]

The regiment has recently returned from a tour of duty in Afghanistan.

They all looked so young, so proud.

Some tried not to grin as they spotted family members waving at them. Some simply focused front and placed one foot in front of another.

Alongside the parade other soldiers, not in dress uniform but in their desert gear, made sure the crowd was far enough back so the parade could pass safely. Some carried buckets and flags. Those buckets were heavy with coins before they'd reached half way and the crowd sprouted Union Jack flags as they went.

[image error]From Commanding Officer Lieutenant Colonel Will Fooks:

"This was the first time my regiment, the 9th/12th Royal Lancers, has deployed to Afghanistan and it is unlikely to be the last.

…….nothing could have truly prepared us for the loss of Lance Corporal Paul Watkins, who was killed in action on 16th July.

The tragic loss of Paul and the life changing injuries suffered by two other Lancers were keenly felt by all of us both out here and at home."

This is why I'm proud to be part of Operation Ebook drop.

Welcome home, Lads.

My flag is now stuck in the pot where my orchid is about to flower. I think it can stay there for a while.

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Sam.

I've just interviewed Lily. I've just finished NaNoWriMo for another year. So, I now have my annual, "what next?" to answer. From this year's NaNo challenge I have what looks, on initial inspection, a set of at least 3 stories with the germs of more. I've pulled out the first story and have it separated from the rest so I can work on it and hopefully have it ready for publication soon.

But in the meantime, I get the impression that some of you haven't had enough of the Portal stories yet…….

This is the opening of something I have bubbling away in the background and may publish at some point in the not too distant future. It began life as a NaNoWriMo challenge in 2006.

[image error]Kate startled at the knock on the kitchen door. She wasn't expecting anyone. It was the first day back at school for all the children after the long summer holidays and Kate had a couple of hours to herself, but she simply sat at the kitchen table with a large mug of tea. Cradling the warmth in her hands, she felt the spreading numbness as she knew that it wasn't quite over yet. Lily's magic was gone but Lily was recovered and well again. But Susan still carried some magic, although she didn't use it. Kate knew, deep down, that the magic would continue to be part of their lives.

Kate wearily dragged herself from the chair and slowly pulled open the door.

"Hi Lily, come in." Kate's voice was tired and flat. Lily frowned in concern. Perhaps this wasn't the best time. She stepped into the kitchen, noticing the unusually large pile of washing up festering in the sink.

The events of the past few years had hit Kate hard and changed her. Lily could see rawness and fragility in her friend that hadn't been there before. Now she had to pour salt in old emotional wounds. Lily looked down at the roll of loose pages in her hands. It was thick and the pages were like parchment. She hadn't read all of it, but she'd skimmed some of it after Elder had given the document to her as she left that place for the last time, bringing Kate and Susan home after Gentian daughter had been born and as her own magic died, only a short month before.

"Hi Kate." Lily spoke softly and the tone in her voice made Kate suddenly become more alert.

"What's wrong?" she asked, a frown creasing her face and worry standing in her eyes. "Lily?" Kate searched her friends face for an answer. Lily came to the table and sat next to Kate. She placed the document on the table and left it there in between them.

"It's from Sam." Lily said and she watched Kate's face crumple into tears. "She wrote it for you before she died. It's an account of what happened while she was over there the first time but I've not read it all." Kate stared at the roll of pages. Lily reached over to pat Kate's shoulder gently. "I'll put the kettle on." She said and got up to walk across the kitchen. Lily leaned on the worktop and listened to the kettle begin to heat up. She watched as Kate pushed out a trembling hand to touch the pages. Her fingers found the ribbon and pulled it open. The tightly rolled pages slowly began to uncurl to reveal neat handwriting.

I left my kids. I walked away from my life. I left it all behind for him. Let me tell you my tale. Kate, you and Lily know what happened after I came back for a while. But I couldn't stay. The damage was too great, the pain too large. Kate, you asked me what happened, but I couldn't tell you. Then when I was ready to speak it was too late for us. Lily knows what happened, well most of it but she didn't live it.

So now I will write my story for you, for my children Thomas and Susan. I sit here at my desk and I write longhand. I have freshly cut quills and reed pens and ink made especially for me. But it wasn't made for this. It was made to indulge me. I like to write things down where the ink makers like to recall their history aurally. There is no electricity here and no computers. My life here is simple in its complexity and it is coming to an end now. My story needs to be told for you, before that end comes. It's all gone so horribly wrong Kate. I don't know how to make it right.

The Portal Series on Amazon UK.

The Portal Series on Amazon US.

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Post NaNo plans.

NaNo is done for this year. I just skipped past the 50,000 word mark.

The dilemma now is whether to carry on writing for the next seven days and see where I end up, or stop now and do something else?

Sage, part one, was complete several days ago and part two isn't far off. My original plan for this year was to splurge out Sage from her beginnings through to as far as I could get in her story. This, I have most definitely accomplished. Part one is shorter than I thought, but longer than I planned. It needs work, it needs reworking in places and it certainly needs some serious editing. But it's down, it's complete and I think it works. I'm going to paste that section into a new doc and give it some quality time.

Anyone like sci-fi, deep ecology and spaceships? Sorry, no ninjas, vampires or zombies, and no sparkling.

[image error]"Link boost is deactivated." Nahso was all serious now, no sign of the excitable persona she'd shown moments before. "Software offline and dormant. Cortical interface enabled and stable." Nahso declared as she worked. "Link inactive." She glanced past Sage to where Meeth stood on the other side of the bed. "Tell us if you feel anything you don't like?"

Sage swallowed. Her mouth was dry as sand and her hands shook. She clutched the small, dull box on her lap.

Nahso edged a control upwards tantalisingly slowly and Sage felt it tickle at the back of her mind.

"Keep going," she murmured softly. The control slid higher and the tickle became an itch. Meeth leaned on the bed, tipping the mattress behind Sage. The itch became a pressure. Sage felt Meeth's hand warm on her back and she stayed frozen in place as the pressure burst and the link blossomed inside her mind, soft, gentle and grateful that she was here. "A little more?" she suggested with a little hesitation. Nahso's tentacles pushed a little further and the blossoming grew. "That's enough." She looked round at Meeth's questioning expression and she grinned first. Meeth grinned back.

"That should allow you to send as well as receive." Nahso waited by the wall display, watching the images carefully. "Try?"

"Try what?" Sage wasn't sure what she was being asked to do.

"Try speaking to Gaia with your mind." Meeth spoke as she moved round the bed.

"I don't know how." Sage admitted.

"Me neither." Meeth shrugged. "I think we'll try to get you some time with another Link soon, you need some training."

Sage wasn't listening. The other presence in her mind was sobbing, in pain and angry, so white hot with pain and anger. It surged up and swamped her own feelings. She lurched forwards, vomiting onto the floor and narrowly avoiding Meeth's shoes as she leapt out of range. Nahso wasn't so agile, or so lucky.

"Down a bit, Nahso?" Meeth sounded part concerned and part amused. Nahso grumbled about the vomit but still dragged the control downwards a small distance. The turmoil fell away as if dragged out of the room but still screaming from the corridor outside. She dragged the bar down further and the screaming was muffled as if in another room with the door closed.

My Other Books on Amazon UK.

My Other Books on Amazon US.

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Interviewing Lily.

Thank you to everyone who offered a question for Lily. She's answered them all in her own way, and she's said she'll come and reply to more in the comments. So, when you've finished reading, if there's something you want to ask then please do.

[image error]The kettle's hot, curls of vapour rise from the spout, steaming up the kitchen window as pale winter sunshine fails to challenge the boiling water. Pulling mugs from a cupboard, Lily paused, unsure of her imminent guests. On the counter near the kettle sat the grey and purple teapot that Kate had loaned her for today.

"Why did I let her talk me into this?" she muttered as she heard the distinctive sound of a car pulling up outside. Lily threw tea bags into the pot and stuck her head out of the back door. Sure enough, that was her dark green Citroen parked behind Lily's own red VW Golf.

Lily waved as the car door swung open. "Hi, Sarah, come on in. No-one else is here yet."

The author pulled a small netbook from the door pocket and tucked it under her arm. "I have their questions here, it's just you and me."

"Oh, I thought… Never mind. The kettle's hot. Cuppa?" Lily stood aside to let the author into her kitchen and she threw tea bags into a mismatched pair of mugs. "Did you bring biscuits?" she called over her shoulder as teaspoon clinked on mugs, stirring the tea and fishing out used tea bags.

"I did," she replied, pulling a pack of chocolate covered digestives from her coat pocket. "Do you have wifi?" Sarah asked as the netbook came to life. "Because we have questions from America, Italy, Cyprus, and the UK. We could try to see if anyone's on skype?"

"Really? They read about me in all those places?" She thought for a minute. "I don't think I want to be bothered wit skype though."

Sarah nodded with a grin. "Yes, they do, and they love your story too. Ready?"

"No." Lily brought the tea over and set the mugs on the table. "You know there are some things I just won't discuss?"

"As is your right, but you promised to do this." Sarah was firm, Lily squirmed in her seat. "I'm just going to mix up the questions and you can check what I've typed afterwards?"

Lily nodded, cradling her tea mug in both hands, leaning back in her chair. "Can I correct your spelling and grammar too?"

Sarah laughed, "Of course you can, someone has to." She looked down at the netbook screen where a document was open. She positioned the cursor and was poised to type.

"OK, First question. What's the secret to the perfect cup of tea?"

Lily sipped at her tea. "You really need to ask Kate that. She's the one who's picky about brands and flavours. She takes so much care to make your tea just right for you."

"How about your secret to a perfect cuppa then?"

"It's not a cup, tea should come in a mug that you can wrap your hands round and feel the heat as it cools. My perfect cuppa will be different to yours, and everybody's perfect cuppa will be special for them. I'd have to say the secret is knowing the person you're making the tea for." Lily tore open the packet of biscuits and dunked one in her tea. The chocolate covering melted and swirled on the surface.

"Ew!" Sarah grimaced. "How can you dunk those? Right, that leads nicely on to the next question. What's the best biscuit for dunking in tea?"

"The one in my hand." Lily grinned, waving the remains of her biscuit. "Even better if it's home made, or brought by someone else."

Sarah laughed. "I'm with you on that!" she agreed. "But if you could choose just one biscuit as your absolute best dunker, which would it be?"

"Home baked ginger. Preferably made using the recipe from the Shrek cookbook, they always come out just right and keep for ages." Lily shook her head with a smile, long, dark hair flicking over her shoulder. "Well, they would if they didn't get eaten so fast."

"True." Sarah typed, trying to keep up with the conversation, keyboard rattling as she hit the keys. "Next one. How many cups of tea do you drink in a day?"

Lily roared with laughter. "Are they really that obsessed with my tea drinking?"

"You do drink rather a lot through the books."

Lily gave Sarah an amused glare. "Only when you have writer's block, need Kate and I to have a serious chat or need to fill some word counts."

"How many?" Sarah pressed.

"Loads." Lily shrugged. "When I'm at home there's generally a mug of tea being drunk as I get things done. Probably far too many really and I've never counted them. Anyway, Kate drinks way more tea than I do."

Sarah reached for her own mug. "What's your greatest passion?"

"That's a good question." Lily frowned.

"But a hard one?"

"Really hard. I could say my garden, or my kids, or…" Lily's voice trailed off. "It should be my children." She shivered. The kitchen grew quiet in that anticipating silence where the tension just rose until Lily set her mug down with a soft sound. "My greatest passion, the thing I do just for me is my garden, or my knitting."

"It surprised me to find out that you knit." Sarah smiled, knowing the change of subject was necessary.

"Really? I've always knitted, I spin too, you wrote that into one of the books. The second one, I think?" The gratitude in Lily's eyes masked the still raw pain. "Next?" She helped herself to another biscuit and dunked it until the chocolate started to melt.

Sarah pulled a face, drawing an amused chuckle from Lily. "What are you most proud of? And what are you least proud of?"

"What, ever? Or just in the parts you know about?" Lily leaned back in the chair.

"Either. You never know, there might be another book in it." Sarah glanced away with a sly smirk.

"No thanks." Lily was serious.

"What?"

"No more books. I've had enough." She drained her tea mug in one large gulp. "Refill?"

"What are you most proud of? And what are you least proud of?" Sarah insisted. "And those were the easy ones, they just get harder from here."

"Least proud." Lily stared into the distance, memories flashing across her eyes. "The event in my life that I'm least proud of is turning away from my daughter. I hoped it would protect her, but it harmed her in ways I'd not considered. It's no excuse really, but, I didn't know, I didn't realise." [image error]She stopped, stared at her hands on the wooden table top. "I'm getting old," she said in a sad tone before giving a small shudder.

"And what are you most proud of?" The question burst the silence that was settling around Lily.

She looked up, pale blue eyes less like ice and more like winter sky. "Most proud?" She scratched her head. "Honestly?" She waited for the nod. "I don't know that there's one thing really. I'm proud of Susan. I adore Andrew and Tom too, don't get me wrong there. But Susan is special, she had the sense and the strength to walk away and leave the magic mostly alone. I'm proud of my friendship with Kate. That came so close to breaking, more than a few times over the years but we're closer than ever now." Lily ran her hands through her hair, pulling it free from the ponytail and letting it hang loose.

"Did you ever use your magic just for fun? Tell us about that?" Sarah threw in a lighter question, scanning those yet to come and choosing carefully.

"Of course!" The smile lit up Lily's face. "Let me think." She took a breath, gaze distant and remembering. "There was the time I used the magic to hide from my sister. Have you met Heather? We're twins. She's the older one and she was meant to inherit the magic, but that didn't quite work the way it should. We played in the woods near our Summer home and we'd hide from each other. She could never find me and she was furious when she found out I'd used the magic to hide. Our Mother scolded me for weeks about it."

"What's your favourite memory from your childhood?" Sarah followed the childhood a little way.

"Sitting in the lightening blasted yew. It's only half living after being struck by lightening so half the tree is charred and dead while half grows green every Spring. It was my favourite place to be as a child. I loved that tree."

"Least favourite?" Sarah tapped at the keyboard.

Lily thought for a moment. "Finding out, at age eighteen, that my sister wouldn't follow our Mother as Mistress, that I'd have to do it instead." She got up from the table, gathered the mugs and set the kettle to boil again.

"Can you talk about Sam, I have some questions about her?" The question wasn't the shock it might have been. Lily had suspected it was coming.

"Ask them," She said. "I might not answer." She came back to sit at the table.

"Why did you leave Sam here? Why abandon a new born?"

Lily tipped her head to one side, holding the penetrating gaze of the author who knew all her secrets. "I was pregnant and the magic wanes while the mother is carrying, even more so if the daughter has the ability too. So I had little power to use. I was with Ametsam, he was my consort and he was beginning to become the monster who took Sam. He was jealous and aggressive and Sam wasn't his child. I knew I was carrying a daughter and I knew she wasn't his. He found out and was furious. I was convinced he'd kill me, and the child I was carrying. So I ran."

"Why go back?"

"It had been drummed into me for years that I mustn't leave my land, mustn't abandon the Eysi. I had to go back."

"And you couldn't take Sam with you." Sarah filled in, Lily nodded.

"He would have killed her. As it was, by the time I went back he'd found and killed my lover."

"Sam's father? Will you tell me who that was?" Sarah pushed.

"No. It doesn't matter now, and his memory deserves to be left alone." Lily was firm.

Sarah just typed the answer, accepting the refusal. "Then when you left the second time, with Andrew?"

"Same situation really, but that time he worked it out sooner. He beat Bramble to death and he made me watch. I couldn't go back after that."

"Bramble?" Sarah prompted.

"Yes, Bramble, because he grew like a weed and got in the way all the time as a child. Elder named him." Lily softened at the memory.

"Why did you neglect to train Sam properly? Or at least prepare her?" Sarah watched Lily's face closely. That had stung.

"I didn't neglect to train her. I wasn't sure how much magic she had and by the time I knew her she was already adult. If the magic isn't disciplined during puberty it tends to fade and die. I did what I could." Lily was becoming defensive and Sarah wondered just how far to push the subject, and decided to leave it there because of the next question.

[image error]"How do you truly feel about Sam and how everything ended?"

"That's two questions." Lily stalled. "Sam was so emotionally hurt, so messed up, in many ways she was such a pain in the neck. She was hard to be around. But I still wish we'd had more time, I wish we'd been able to get to know each other properly." The kettle boiled and turned itself off. Lily ignored it. "I'm glad it's over. But, it hurts, and I don't really want to discuss what might have been." She held the author's gaze without blinking, the plea clear as tears welled.

"OK." The word, softly spoken granted that wish.

Lily blinked and drew a deep, calming breath.

"I've been asked more than once, how old are you?" Sarah leaned back, rolled her shoulders to relieve the ache building.

"Depends how you measure it." Lily traced the grain of the wooden table top under her hands. "I've lived for just a few more than fifty summers since my birth, but I saw your English Civil war the first time I found my way through the Portals. You work it out!" She shrugged, leaving the challenge open.

"Almost done." Sarah scrolled down the list of questions. "Last one. Hedgehogs or Badgers?"

"Hedgehogs." Lily answered without having to think about it. "I love hedgehogs. Nothing against badgers, but I love hedgehogs."

"Thanks, Lily, that was great." Sarah finished typing and saved the document. [image error]"You can read it through, and when you're happy then I'll pop the whole thing on my blog. Will you answer any more questions in the comments?"

Lily reached for another biscuit. "If I get to keep these? And if I can reserve the right to reuse to answer?"

"Of course, on both counts." Sarah closed the netbook.

Any more questions? Leave them in the comments here and Lily will come and answer them for you.

The Portal Series on Amazon UK.

The Portal Series on Amazon US.

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Naming Characters.

There are many ways of naming characters while writing. I've used baby names books, websites with stats for popular names for a particular era, sites of names from particular cultures, sites with names and their meanings. But sometimes I like to get quirky, and sometimes I write in a genre and era where those resources aren't that helpful.

NaNoWriMo 2011 is a sci fi. With spaceships and aliens. What are the chances of an alien being called Doris? Possible, I suppose, but slim to non-existent. So I have to get creative! This year I have two sources for Alien names. I take any name that catches my eye from my spam folder. I love my spam folder. Then I also use scrabble. Yes, scrabble, and another word game on facebook. First open up a game and start playing, it's excellent procrastination. Then, when stuck for an alien sounding word, shuffle the letters you have and see if they make something that might be a word. It doesn't have to be the whole row of letters, it can be part of them, or some of them if there was a D, or something. It's an inspiration, not chains.

Nahso the engineer in this snippet was a scrabble name, as is the Martian that you haven't met yet, Ignaian.

[image error]Meeth turned to Sage with a grin. "Hang in there. There's a solution on the way, I hope." She closed the graphic for the medics and opened another that looked a little like a cogged wheel. Again she waited, leaning forward and agitated, wanting a response immediately and frustrated when there was a delay.

When the wheel changed, Sage's eyes widened. The blue skinned head was domed, hairless and smooth with three protruding eyes above long mobile protrusion that Sage assumed was a nose. There was no apparent mouth but when it spoke the "nose" moved at the tip, so she revised her initial impression and mentally called it a trunk, or perhaps it was an extended muzzle? A pair of flexible arms sprouted from a body that seemed to have no shoulders and the head just emerged from that too, with no apparent neck. Each arm ended in a mass of short tentacles.

"Wow." Sage whispered. Meeth didn't appear to hear her.

"Nahso."

"Meeth, what have you broken now?" The tentacles jerked as if exasperated and the trunk flipped from one side to the other.

"Nothing. How would you like to be able to play with one of Earth's combustion engines? Still think you can fit Rift Tech to one?" Meeth asked, Sage hung on every word. A car? With weird add ons? Cool.

Nahso squealed and Sage grinned at the obvious excitement.

"Yes!" The blue alien bounced.

"There'll be one on the way in a couple of hours, but before it arrives there's a job I have for you that needs to be a priority."

"Is it a Mini? Please let it be a Mini, I love those. A red one."

Fellow NaNo participants, I hope your words are flowing and any stumbles are just temporary setbacks. We've crossed the half way mark and hopefully you're at around 25,000 words, or more. Keep going, even if you're behind, you can still do it, you can still win!

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