Anita Dawes's Blog: http://jenanita01.wordpress.com, page 21

Broken Promises?

Is the New Year full of broken promises and/or failed resolve already?
I had the feeling that mine would be before I actually tried, for my mind-set was in chaos. Sometimes we are so eager to change our bad habits or start a new regime, that we rush into it, thinking we can tackle it all at once.I am sure some people can do this. It probably comes under the heading of ‘multi-tasking’ but the majority of us simply cannot handle too much change (or excitement) all at once. I know I can’t, having already landed face down in despair after running at it with all the enthusiasm I could muster.
Here we are, five days into 2015 and I might now have an idea of how I can make changing my life actually work. It has to be one thing at a time.I made yet another to-do list, and at the top was the state of my health. At 70 years old I am overweight, pre-diabetic, hypertensive and in pain for one reason or another. My joints scream every time I move and even short walks reduce me to a gasping heap.Since my heart attacks three years ago, I have been forced to make quite a few radical changes to my life. Cigarette smoking had to stop and this I managed instantaneously. (The fear of dropping dead works every time!) And I have had a long and irrational battle with all the medication they think you need, only to realise that most of them cause more harm than the original heart attack. At least they did for me.Following doctors’ orders, I have endured severe muscle cramps, kidney problems, chronic itching, headaches and insomnia, only to discover that as an asthmatic I shouldn’t have been taking the medication in the first place! Now that I have a better handle on that side of my health, it is time to make the rest of me toe the line.
The most important change on my list has to be my weight. If I could lose a substantial amount, my blood pressure would stabilise and the pre-diabetes would recede, taking all the itching and other problems with it. My joints would be happier and I could take more walks and enjoy them.At first, I tried to change too much, still not grasping the idea that any discipline has to be learned. You cannot just decide that you will achieve this or that just by thought alone. I thought will power had something to do with it, but I was wrong. Along with everything else in life, will power has to be learned too.
Thinking back, it was the same for writing. I have always loved to read and write, but it was always a relaxed hobby, no deadlines or ambition. Something you would always get around to when you had the time. But starting this blog began to change all that. I did the research and learned that to be successful at any level, you have to be dedicated and determined, posting at least once a week.In the beginning, I found this incredibly hard. Still do sometimes, whenever life insists on getting in the way. A blank page can be the most terrifying thing, but gradually, I have gotten into the habit, and nowadays I am hardly ever without a pen in my hand and have discovered along the way, the perfect cure for depression.
If we are honest, I think most of us resent the word ’discipline’. It does have an unpleasant connotation, doesn’t it? We hear the word and mentally cringe, with thoughts of pain, punishment and hard labour. No wonder disciplined is the last thing we want to be.
But learning anything is called a discipline. Just think of all the things we have learned along the way. Some of them were very hard, but we did it. Which must mean we are capable of anything…with a little bit of discipline…
This is Jaye signing off, bless you all...

A very Happy New Year to Everyone...

A very merry Christmas from us...

More than Time for a Break…

What started out all those years ago as a glorified hobby, one that didn’t amount to a hill of beans at the time, has gradually rebuilt itself.Like Frankenstein’s monster, built of odds and ends with a very limited knowledge of what would work, not to mention all the things that should work but for some inconceivable reason, don’t.Just lately, the whole nine yards has snowballed, becoming something we hardly recognise.

Two years ago, we knew nothing of social networking and self-publishing, not to mention Amazon, Smashwords and Goodreads. Now we are writing and editing, blogging and reviewing, not to mention endlessly looking for places to promote our books. All our efforts, I am pleased to report, are having some effect  and our individual and shared platforms are slowly growing.


Our days are filled with questions and ideas, sometimes we are pleased with our progress, and other times frustrated with our own shortcomings,I have a feeling that next year will bring more of the same and hopefully a little good news along the way.




So, next week we will down tools and take a break. Concentrate on family matters and leave the PC turned off.We will be back in the New Year, and hope that every single one of all the wonderful people we have met (and you know who you are) have a Very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year…

Would You Read This Book?

Bad Moon was the first book I ever wrote, and came about I think, because I am slightly obsessed with the way the people in West Virginia talk.Some people call them Hillbilly’s and years ago, there was a very funny television programme called The Beverly HillBilly’s. Maybe that was where it started, I don’t know.I love the place too; it seems so wild and untamed. So much, I sometimes wonder if my father came from there and I have inherited something. I have it on good authority (from my mother) that he was an American.


So when this very distinctive voice began to speak in my head, all about her life and family, in no time at all I was completely hooked. Annie’s story is nothing like “The Walton’s”, no happy family in the usual sense of the word. They do seem to care for each other, but most of the time what they get up to is pretty hard to live with, a conclusion that the girl in my head had already arrived at.The more she tries to change things, to make them better, the worse they seem to get. Horrible secrets are revealed and bad things keep happening, but this only seems to make her more determined than ever to leave all the pain and sorrow behind.
The trouble with writing such an unusual book is that most publishers won’t touch it with a barge pole. When I first wrote it, I tried very hard to get it published by the mainstream publishing industry. Most of them loved it, saying it was ‘powerfully written’. It very nearly made it, but, and it was a big but, they discovered to their horror that they didn’t know how to market it, and one by one they gave up on it.

I think it is a great story. It has everything, plenty of drama, horrifying storylines, love and passion, all wrapped up in a young girls rapidly growing sense of right and wrong.Still trying to find people who will read it, and dare I say it, review it. It needs to succeed, if only because my next book Simple Says is based in West Virginia too and about a similar family group.In some ways, Simple Says is worse, as it concerns bullying and the abuse of a mentally impaired family member.
I’m sure that if more people were aware of these books, they would receive more acclaim, but I fear my marketing attempts are inadequate at best.
I’m still in there, swinging…so who knows?

Review: A Face Not Seen...

I love reading and reviewing people’s books and have taken part in many blog tours on Goodreads. So when Michael Ross on Facebook asked if anyone would like to review his book, I immediately said yes.Most of the books I have reviewed have been very good, and this was no exception. I really liked the title and the cover, it suggested an interesting and mysterious read and I was not disappointed.The story had me gripped right from the first page, and the gritty, action packed pace was brilliantly plotted. I loved all of the characters, even the bad ones. (don’t ask!)
I always judge a book by how it would translate into cinema, and I can tell you that A Face Not Seen would make a wonderful film. Full of action with no plot holes or awkward moments, and unlike most actions films, Michael has included a believable romance and characters who really care for one another.All in all, I can thoroughly recommend this book and hope it does really well.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/b00m87lzxo

Enough is nearly enough!

Posted by Jaye Marie
I have been doing a lot of thinking this week, but I think my brain has finally reached breaking point.  Since we began this journey into the weird and wonderful world of electronic publishing, an avalanche of information, much of it incomprehensible I’m afraid, has tortured my aging brain.                                                     
I have tried my utmost to assimilate what I thought (and was told) was necessary to be successful in this new digital publishing world.  You know what I mean... you must have a good and interesting blog to attract what they call 'content marketing'. You must be on Facebook, Twitter etc... the list goes on and on.
Well, we have tried to do most of those things, but it doesn't help to discover you might be using the wrong website provider... and that Facebook keeps changing the rules (which I didn't understand the first time) and there was always that other sneaking doubt, you know, the 'I might not be good enough anyway' one.  Which, let’s face it, is probably the real reason this website doesn't attract many visitors, and our books are not flying off the shelves.

 
So I was gazing out of my window to where all my bonsai live on their shelves, hoping for some divine inspiration, when I noticed something odd. I had to go and have a look, for my eye site is not what it was and I sometimes see things that are not there. But not that time. It was real and I had to take a photograph to prove it.  On the shelf, nestled between a pine tree and a Ginko, I had placed this huge pine cone that we found in a forest. It must be about six inches long and it really does tell you about the weather. It closes up tight when it rains and opens wide when the sun comes out.

But what was special that day (as you can see in the photo above) was the fact that tiny mushrooms had sprouted from inside it. Don't ask me how... it just has. I think it is magical, and it got me to thinking differently about many things.

Maybe I was trying too hard on all the wrong stuff. Because one of the things that has started to annoy me big time, was the fact that what with all this networking, blogging and searching, there seemed to be precious little time left for what is important...writing. And as hard as I tried, I simply couldn't squeeze everything in. It was simply impossible.

Don't forget, I am still knew to the writing side of this business and I know there is much to learn about the craft. But I won't learn it properly if there is no time left to do it, will I?

So I have made a monumental decision. I will keep this blog going because I really do enjoy doing it, but I will stop worrying about it. The rest of it will have to take a back seat for now because I have another book to finish (and I am enjoying that too!)

I have it on good authority, that what you really need to be successful, is to produce brilliant books, so that is what we are both going to do...                                                                                   ******************
Always happy to hear any feedback, so please check out "Simple Says" here, and let us have some!

Escape into the rain

The rumbling sound of the thunder reached out to her, echoing in her ears and head, making her feel very different to the old woman she knew she was.
She waited for it to come again, revelling in the distant power that even at this distance vibrated through her body. Maybe it would come closer, she thought. Most of the time it faded so quickly, hurrying to escape to somewhere else. She always hated it when it did that. Almost as though it knew she was waiting and was deliberately trying to get away from her.



A blinding, split second flash of lightning lit up the sky, and she waited, counting the seconds. Usually the distance grew greater, but after five or six seconds the rumbling sound returned, turning into a tumbling, rolling noise that thudded all around her.She could feel the power of it, and something deep inside her matched the vibration and saluted it. 
She held her breath. Would it get any closer? She prayed that it would, for only when the sound of it deafened her, the wildness and the power waking something that lived deep within her, did she feel truly alive.



She had always found solace in Nature, whether it was a garden, a forest, a wild, churning sea or the simple beauty of flowers. The feeling that she truly belonged was never too far away, no hiding or pretence to try not to notice or feel.Sometimes in those precious moments, she felt as though she would melt and soak into the ground, to vanish completely and be no more…                                            .............................................................
check out this weeks post from Jaye here , really lovely piece...

This week we have been doing quite a lot of listening, bu...

This week we have been doing quite a lot of listening, but unfortunately, not much else.

Normal service will resume after the weekend...

White Poppies

When I saw white poppies among the red, I found myself thinking of the white feather they used to give to men years ago, who came up short in the bravery department. Curious as to why they were there, I investigated further and discovered they represented peace, and not intended in any way to be an insult to all those brave soldiers who died on a battlefield. I was glad to read that. Well, these days you never know what they will come up with next, do you, what with all the different coloured ribbons for this and that.

White poppies first appeared in England in 1933, to remember the casualties of all wars. They are a pledge to peace, that war must not happen again and are a symbol to challenge the continuing drive to perpetuate the idea of war. I was born during the war, and my father died in France before he ever had a chance to meet me. When those scarlet poppy petals fall from the ceiling in the Albert Hall every year on Rembrance Sunday, I acknowledge that one of them is for him. I think he would have loved the idea of the white ones too.


This week I have been watching the television mini-series ‘The Passing Bells’, written by Tony Jordan, and really enjoying the way the writer has portrayed the two young soldiers, one English and one German during the First World War. At first glance, it appears as one war, one country and one people, and the similarity of the opposing sides is profound.The writer has removed the language barrier, leaving very little clue as to who is who or where they are, cleverly emphasising how alike we all are. At times a little confusing, but it leaves you in no doubt that all wars are senseless and must be abolished.
Poppies are beautiful, as all remembrances are, but maybe it is time to stop glorifying all the killing.