Samantha Tonge's Blog, page 2

2020 – The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

I don’t need to tell anyone that 2020 has been a difficult year. On a personal level, like many of you, I’ve had challenging times with my health and with not being able to visit relatives, and restrictions here in the North West have lasted for months… but I’m exceptionally grateful to have got through it without loss, and heartfelt condolences to those who are bereaved and missing loved ones.

I’ve been able to work from home, have a secure roof over my head, my family is safe – I can’t complain. Yes, it’s been tough but this pandemic has made me even more grateful for the ordinary things like laughter over a board game, a walk in the park, a good cup of coffee.

A sense of community has come to the fore. Like many others, I’ve given to a food bank and enrolled in a pen pal scheme to connect with those who are alone. A sense of kindness has emerged, perhaps stronger than when, under usual circumstances, we are all wrapped up with leading our busy lives – along with huge appreciation for keyworkers, like those in the NHS and schools, and for the people who deliver our post, work in shops and empty our bins, out there on the frontline. And I’ve seen, first hand, the amazing work happening in care homes.

If something good comes out of this it will be that we’ve connected with who – and what – in our lives is truly important. Let’s hope we don’t forget.

 

Professionally speaking it has certainly been a good year, even though I’ve really missed meeting up with my agent, publishing team and writer friends. I’ve had four books published, The Summer Island Swap and The Winter We Met, along with the Czech versions of Game of Scones and its sequel My Big Fat Christmas Wedding – that’s been very exciting!

Also, back in March, I was thrilled to win the RNA’s inaugural Jackie Collins Romantic Thriller Award for Knowing You, at a glitzy ceremony in London, the last time I went out to a big social gathering.

And I’ve finished writing my next novel, Summer Secrets at Streamside Cottage, out on April 15th.

It’s been another wonderful year for connecting with readers – thank you for your support, the great reviews and messages have meant the world. I’ve felt humbled that my stories have provided a form of warm, cosy escape, especially this year.

It’s also been a great year for discovering fabulous books and I’ve got to know more authors. Check out the beautiful contemporary romances by Katie Ginger, Jessica Redland and Sandy Barker to mention but a few. Oh, and the awesome Zoe Folbigg!

Here’s to 2021 and eventually finding a higher degree of normality. Every year has its good, bad, and ugly moments and this year that has applied a thousand times over.

However, I’m four years sober soon and I can promise you two things:

bad times DO always pass

and

you come out of them stronger than before.

 

The First Chapter – The Winter We Met!

The Winter We Met, my new heartwarming novel, is now just 99p!

The story is about a chance encounter, a care home, a toy shop and a very special Christmas party.

As a taster here’s the first chapter! 

 

It was a misunderstanding that started it. I sat in the wrong row. The air steward said it didn’t matter. The flight wasn’t full and so I stayed there, by the window. We were about to take off.

I was travelling back to England after attending one of the many toy trade fairs that ran throughout the year, this time in Germany. I managed a shop called Under the Tree. It was the end of October and I was thinking ahead to next year’s must-have products. I yawned. It was an obscenely early flight.

Before heading to the airport I’d bought a little Bavarian cuckoo clock. I bent down and took it out of my hand luggage, put it on the seat next to me for a moment and grinned, imagining my plain-speaking gran’s face as the wooden bird flew noisily out of its door.

‘Must be a great joke.’

I looked up at the lofty frame, red jumper and eyes that laughed with me. Hastily, I put the clock back and removed my woollen bobble hat. He put his big rucksack and anorak into the overhead cabin and offered to lift my bag up there as well. Then he settled into the seat next to me and put on his seatbelt.

‘Sorry. I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Nik.’

He had an accent, it took me a moment to place it. Australian. He held out his hand and long fingers enveloped mine.

‘Jess,’ I said, unable to look away from those eyes, surprised by their startling blueness – and the tingly feeling spreading across my palm.

He glanced down at our hands and humorously raised an eyebrow. Blushing, I released him.

‘Sorry. Premature jet lag. I’ve been at a trade fair for two days and feel as if I could sleep through to next year’s.’

‘Me too. Nuremberg by any chance?’ he asked, and we chatted about how busy the fair had been.

‘So you manage a toy shop?’ he said, then really listened as I replied. His eyebrows moved up and down as we chatted. He was interested, paid attention.

Not everyone did that. It made me feel seen.

The plane vibrated as the engines started and Nik ran a hand through thick hair that was streaked with white. It was unusual for someone in their, what, early thirties, and contrasted with his tanned, smooth skin. He looked distinguished. At twenty-nine I’d not had my first grey hair yet.

‘What about you?’ I asked.

‘My family owns a toy manufacturing business in Sydney and I’ve been keeping track of the competition.’

The plane turned onto the runway – normally my cue to lean against the window and try hard to relax.

‘Do you like flying? You must be used to it, coming all the way from Australia.’

‘Love it. Night-time is best, with winds dying down along with thermal turbulence so that you just glide through the air, with stars coming out, realising Earth is just another spherical mass… it kind of gives you perspective, right?’

‘True. It’s so easy to believe that the world revolves around us – until we leave it and realise we are nothing but a tiny cog in a huge machine.’

‘Not that cogs aren’t important. Cogs have needs. Cogs have feelings – even teeny tiny ones.’ He caught my eye and we laughed. He stared at my hands again, which were clenched together. ‘Statistically, this is the safest form of travel,’ he said in a soft tone.

‘It’s still fairly new to me. I only started flying abroad a couple of years ago, with my flatmate Oliver. I never had foreign holidays when I was little.’

‘If it’s any consolation, I threw up the first time I flew. I was seven. It was Easter and I’d secretly scoffed a huge chocolate egg before boarding. The turbulence didn’t agree with my digestive system.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘Nor did its contents with the passenger in front. The poor woman was wearing white shoes. The whole cabin stank afterwards.’

Laughing loudly, I became aware we were up in the sky. Nik leant in as the air steward trundled towards us with a jingling drinks trolley. The aroma of coffee energised me and we each accepted a cup, both taking no milk and just one sugar. The two of us sipped and gave a contented sigh before chatting about Nuremberg. My shoulders relaxed as the conversation flowed. There weren’t any awkward silences and we had plenty of laughs. I’d heard people talk about it before – meeting someone you felt as if you’d known for years. That instant connection, like… I glanced down at my lap… like two halves of a seatbelt clicking together. I thought I’d had it once before.

Not wanting to think about that now, I bought a large bar of chocolate from the duty-free list, wishing I’d had time to grab breakfast. I shared some of it with Nik before we lapsed into comfortable work talk again about how his family’s company favoured making traditional products.

‘I loved that wooden clock you were holding, when I boarded,’ he said.

‘It’s for my gran. She used to collect wooden ornaments and would always look for unusual decorative ones for our Christmas tree when I was younger. She’s a huge fan of the festive season. Gran’s a keen reader and would read all of the new children’s festive releases with me. We spent many a cosy December Saturday in the library.’

‘Do you see much of her now?’

‘Yes, but we no longer live together. She moved into an assisted living facility four years ago. She still enjoys Christmas to the full, though. Every December they hold a huge Christmas Eve party. The residents start preparing for it as early as January, buying in cheap craft materials during the sales and, as the months pass, testing out new festive recipes in the communal kitchen for the buffet they put on. They also research different themes. Then in early November a meeting is held to vote for the best one.’

‘Why leave it that late to decide?’ he asked.

‘So that it ramps up the excitement in the weeks before the big day… Last year’s theme was a masquerade ball. The year before a Downton Abbey one.’

‘It sounds ace. Christmas really is the best time of year. My family and I are often too busy to go to parties, going into overdrive completing the production of extra orders of toys that no one predicted would be quite so popular. Not that I mind. It’s worth it if I’m out and spot a kid playing with one of our products.’

Before I could answer the pilot announced we were about to land. How had that happened? Nik had turned hours into minutes. We tightened our seatbelts and I stashed the remainder of the chocolate into my handbag. I gripped the arm rests. Nik pulled a funny face and I couldn’t help grinning. Eventually my rapid breathing slowed as he went on to tell a really bad joke, me shaking my head when he delivered the punchline. Relief surged through me as I realised the plane had touched down. When we came to a standstill, a whistling Nik passed down my hand luggage from the overhead cabin, slipped on his anorak and grabbed his rucksack. The air stewards beamed as he thanked them for a great journey. We disembarked and walked into the large, impersonal terminal, hit by the hustle bustle and flight announcements over the intercom. My stomach rumbled as I followed Nik who navigated the crowd easily as he stood a good head above anyone else.

‘Are you going to another fair?’ I asked, once we’d collected our pull-along cases, needing to leave but not quite wanting to say goodbye. Nik was good company.

‘Sure. Tomorrow – one in London just for manufacturers. Then I’m… taking a break for a few weeks. A friend of the family has gone away on business for two months and said I could have his flat for as long as I wanted, in a place called Islington.’

‘Nice. But a break? At this time of year?’

‘Mitigating circumstances,’ he said. ‘And I can’t think of a better country to spend time in. You’ve reminded me of how much I like England. I’ve really enjoyed meeting you, Jess.’

My stomach did a little flip as he said my name. It caught me by surprise. ‘It’s been great meeting you too.’ I looked at my watch. ‘It’s only ten o’clock. What have you got planned for the rest of the day?’

‘Nothing much. It feels like a waste, to be honest. Guess I’ll just head to the flat and stock up on food. If I was sensible, I’d get some sleep.’

‘Do you fancy having something to eat together first? My stomach is calling out, literally, for eggs and toast.’

He smiled. ‘There’s me thinking that noise was the weather gods welcoming me into London with a roll of thunder.’

We managed to find ourselves a seat in one of the airport’s crowded restaurants. Despite the early hour, a group of young men sat at a nearby table downing beer and flicking drinks mats, their raucous chat revealing they were heading to Amsterdam for a stag party. Nik and I both ordered a full English breakfast and sat nursing mugs of tea.

‘So, you’ve been to England before?’ I asked and took a sip.

‘Yes. It’s only the last few years or so that I’ve been going to the trade fairs on my own. I joined the company straight from university and Mum and Dad have been teaching me the ropes ever since, taking me on work trips abroad.’ He ran a finger around the mug’s rim. ‘They brought me here as a teenager though, on holiday to see the sights. Mum and Dad went backpacking during university holidays and always said there was nothing quite like travel for broadening the mind. They liked discovering unusual places. We travelled the length of the country, from Newcastle to Bournemouth.’

‘Wow. Any favourite places?’

‘Stonehenge was amazing – so atmospheric. And we rented a cottage in the Cotswolds for a few days, in a quiet little village. It looked like a picture off a chocolate box and ducks visited the back garden – Mum fell in love with it. Manchester was pretty cool with trendy independent coffee shops and warehouse stores. We had to visit the Cavern Club in Liverpool as Dad had always been a massive fan of The Beatles and we also took a wonderful steam engine trip through Norfolk. We only spent one day in the capital so I don’t really know London.’

‘It sounds as if you’ve seen more of my home country than I have. So what got your parents interested in toy manufacturing?’

‘Mum was studying a degree in arts and Dad a design degree with modules in consumer engineering. He was left some money from his grandparents – enough to start the business. Also both of their families are big and even in their twenties, between them, Mum and Dad had lots of nephews and nieces and loved entertaining them, and Grams and Grandpa – Mum’s parents – would often talk about how Mum was always making her own toys as a child out of food packaging and scraps of materials or plastic.’ He smiled. ‘She encouraged me as a boy. I used to love crafting with the week’s leftover cereal boxes and plastic butter tubs. I guess that passed the passion onto me.’

‘My gran used to be more of a chef and we’d make a new recipe up from leftovers each week,’ I said. ‘A friend of hers owned an allotment and we’d bake all sorts of crumbles and concoct different pasta sauces with vegetables. Our pumpkin spaghetti became a favourite.’ The waitress delivered our breakfast and I looked down at the plate. It had a small pot of baked beans, fried eggs, bacon, tomatoes and mushrooms, plus slices of buttered toast and a hash brown. ‘Gran would love this. When I was younger, she’d do me a fry-up as a treat every Friday, before school. There’s nothing like waking up to the smell of bacon.’

‘So how did you get into the business?’ he said, offering me the salt before shaking it across his eggs.

‘Angela, the boss of the toy shop where I work – Under the Tree – went to school with my mum, therefore she knew Gran and heard how I wasn’t sure what to do after my A levels. She said there were worse careers than working in retail, and that she couldn’t pay me much to begin with, but would I be interested in a job in a new toy shop she was setting up.’ I shrugged. ‘Angela gave me a future, a purpose, and I was grateful, working hard to prove her trust wasn’t misplaced.’ A comfortable silence fell for a few moments. I popped the last bit of toast into my mouth. ‘What do you eat for breakfast in Australia?’

‘Similar to this if I’ve got time. Or I grab a bowl of cereal.’ He closed his eyes and made a satisfied noise before opening them again. ‘I hadn’t realised how hungry I was. Thanks for suggesting this, Jess. I feel like a new man. Well… almost. My legs are still aching from being squashed behind that seat in front.’

‘Not a problem I have, at five foot three.’ I cut through an egg, sunshiny yolk spilling across the plate. ‘Although next to Gran I’m practically a giant. She must be only four foot something now.’

‘Grams shrank too during her final years.’

‘Oh. I’m sorry to hear she isn’t with you anymore.’

‘It was a huge shock when she passed – even though it had been foreseen for a while.’ He stopped eating for a moment and his voice became quieter. ‘Grams didn’t always know who I was, at the end, but sometimes she’d wink or pull a comical face and we’d laugh.’ His mouth quirked up. ‘But then she’d always been a joker. Grandpa was the serious one and saw it as his duty to teach me the things he’d grown up doing, such as fishing and tying knots. Whereas Grams and me would dance in her kitchen, hand in hand, singing to her favourite folk music. He always did say he wouldn’t last long if she went first.’ Nik dug his fork into a mushroom and a sheepish look crossed his face. ‘Jeez, sorry, I’m getting way too serious this early in the morning.’

Don’t apologise. Your openness is refreshing.

‘You get on well with your grandparents?’ he continued.

‘My granddad died before I was born. He got hit by a stolen car. But yes, Gran practically brought me up. I don’t know how I would have managed without her.’

Nik nodded. ‘I used to love listening to stories from when my grandparents were younger and whatever problem I faced, they had some experience to draw on that they’d share with me and it would help.’ He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. I pointed to the corner and a splodge of yolk. He grinned and wiped it again before pushing his plate away and giving a contented sigh. ‘I don’t feel like moving now.’

I groaned and looked at my watch. ‘I hear you but I’ve got to drop into work. It’s almost twelve and I promised to help out this afternoon. I’d better get going.’

‘Is it in the centre of London?’

‘God no – I couldn’t face the daily commute. I live in a town called Amblemarsh and Under the Tree is in a neighbouring village called Springhaye which is also where Gran’s care home is.’

‘It sounds quintessentially English, I’m picturing meadows and wildflowers.’

‘It boasts a river with canal boats. The village is quite quaint. There’s a brilliant pub next to Gran’s place and the shops are very unique. There’s a bookshop that also sells art, and a shop that sells nothing but handcrafted umbrellas.’

‘No!’

I grinned. ‘A needlework shop sells everything you could imagine connected to embroidery, it’s next to The Corner Dessert Shop that serves the best ever puddings. Next to Under the Tree is a camera shop called Smile Please. The owner, Mr Wilson, begrudgingly sells the mod cons to do with digital photography but his heart is in the old school trends and he stocks quite a collection of film cameras – some you could practically class as antique. It’s a family business, like yours, and has been handed down over two generations and still offers film processing.’

Nik sat up. ‘There’s only one vintage camera and film processing shop I know of in the whole of Sydney.’ He reached into his rucksack and lifted out a clunky old-fashioned film camera. ‘I’m a huge fan myself and have even got my own dark room at home – yes, hands up, I’m a bit of a photography nerd,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing quite like the excitement of developing your own negatives.’

‘Then you’d love Mr Wilson’s collection – almost as much as he’d love showing you around. Since the proliferation of phones with cameras their shop is often empty and certainly the only young customers he has are photography students.’ I paused. ‘You’re most welcome to tag along, as I head into work. Springhaye is about forty minutes on the train from here and it would take you just half an hour from there to get back into London later. It stops at King’s Cross which isn’t far from Islington. You could pop into Under the Tree afterwards. I’m sure my colleague, Seb, could cover whilst I have a quick coffee with you in the staff room before you leave. Although I imagine you must be tired, so please feel welcome to pop in any other day, if you prefer.’

‘I’d love to come with you, if you’re sure you don’t mind! That breakfast has re-energised me and I’ve nothing else planned.’ His face broke into a smile. ‘Thanks, Jess.’

 

If you enjoyed reading this, why not head over here and treat yourself to the rest for just 99p?!

 

Young Heads On Old Shoulders

The story of The Winter We Met revolves around the closure of Willow Court care home and how that threatens the residents’ beloved Christmas party.

When I wrote this book I wanted to show how the elderly still live vibrant lives that matter and don’t fit the negative stereotypes. I think it’s easy to forget this sometimes, as wrinkles or health problems associated with ageing can hide the still vital personality inside – especially in a modern society that is so obsessed with a youthful body image. I’m continually inspired by the older generation.

My much missed mother, for example, followed many hobbies during her life – reading, drawing, pottery – and continued such pursuits in her retirement, along with volunteering. My octogenarian father has recently embraced the online world and now messages and sends Gifs, and Skypes as well as anyone. And his mother, right into her late eighties, walked around in high heels despite problems with her hip, and wore flamboyant clothes and red lipstick, enjoying an enduring interest in fashion.

More than ever retirement isn’t about fading into the shadows, many pensioners pursue vital, fulfilling lives, continuing to learn new skills, mixing with friends, enjoying hobbies, helping their families. Like everyone else, they still have dreams. Still fall in love. Still enjoy sex. And this shouldn’t be a surprise.

I truly believe the words of George Bernard Shaw:

“We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.”

Several famous older people hugely inspire me. David Attenborough who is in his 90s still follow his passion for the natural world and fighting climate change, demonstrating that it’s never too old to make a difference.

And I’ve long admired Joan Collins’ attitude about ageing:

“Growing old is something you do if you’re lucky”

I’m in my fifties now and sure, it’s a shock sometimes to put my glasses on and really *see* my face in the mirror, wrinkles and all. But in a way I’m fond of the flaws – each one tells a story. For example due to getting shingles during lockdown I know have trail of pock marks down my forehead – and in the future I’ll look at them and they will remind me of the tough times in 2020 and how we all got through.

The pay off of time passing is – hopefully – a little wisdom and contentment. I’m much happier than I was thirty years ago and now have a boxful of tools to live by – mindfulness, gratitude, kindness – that I’ve gained through tough life experience. Challenging as it has been, I wouldn’t swap that any day with the vigour of youth.

I really feel I’m getting to *know* who I am now and because of that I care a little less what people think of me – as long as my conscience is happy, so am I. This has been a huge gift and I’m excited for what else I will discover if I’m lucky enough to see future big birthdays go by.

It was a joy to create the characters living in Willow Court – none of whom care very much for other people’s opinions!

Alf the conspiracy theorist

Flamboyant actress Pan, who’s a little confused.

Down-to-earth avid reader Alice who looks out for everyone.

Smart, uptight, business-minded Glenda.

Movie buff and family-orientated Betty, suffering from dementia

Former fireman Fred, a jolly good sort.

I’m thrilled that so many readers have loved this aspect of The Winter We Met.

The carers play an important part in the story too. Before lockdown I feel as if care homes were only in the papers if there was a case of abuse or neglect. But this pandemic has shown has just how truly caring the majority are, real homes from home, run by staff who’ve gone above and beyond during this difficult time.

And that’s why The Winter We Met is dedicated to those superstars

Publication Week!

What a week it’s been!

So happy to see The Winter We Met out in the wide world now!

It’s about a toy shop, care home, Christmas party and a magical chance encounter.

The blog tour is underway and some gorgeous reviews are coming in!

 

And here is the blurb!

‘A wonderfully heartwarming, festive read. I absolutely loved this book’ Holly Martin, author of Autumn Skies Over Ruby Falls

‘Cosy, filled with festive fun and really tugged at my heart-strings. The perfect read to curl up with this winter’ Zoë Folbigg, author of The Note

When charming, mysterious Nik sits next to Jess on a plane home from a Christmas toy trade fair, she never could have imagined the impact he’d have on her life. As they touch down in London, Jess is hesitant to let Nik walk away, and before she knows it, she’s invited him to visit.

As the two take in the delights of the toy store where she works, Jess gets an upsetting phone call. Willow Court, her grandmother’s care home, is to close before Christmas. Jess is determined to find the perfect new home for her Gran – and throw the best Christmas party Willow Court has ever seen!

But time is running out with the closure looming and Jess becomes increasingly drawn to enigmatic Nik who joins forces with her and best friend Oliver to realise those plans.

Will a chance encounter on an aeroplane bring love to Jess’s life or is this Christmas miracle too good to be true?

Grab your copy here!

Eat Your Way to Better Mental Health

During the summer I’ve drastically reduced my cholesterol level, and several people have contacted me to ask how, which is why I decided to write this blog post.

Just before lockdown, in March, I discovered that my cholesterol level was 8.1 – very high. It was a massive shock and a wake-up call. I’m almost 4 years sober and since stopping drinking it’s been hard to battle some old eating disorder issues. I’d got a sixth sense that my level might be up but still didn’t really believe it when the results came through, even though there is a history in my family (a tendency rather than the hereditary sort), plus the relatives with high cholesterol also suffered from dementia, and that’s what really scared me.

So I completely changed my diet for the next 3 months and reduced that a worrying number to 5.6. I was thrilled.

But I wasn’t just pleased with that figure – 5 months in, now, it’s no over-statement to say that my life has transformed. For over thirty years I’ve been plagued by my eating disorder issues and now they’ve more or less disappeared. And it’s changed my mental health overall, leaving me feel more balanced and able to deal with the challenges of the past few months regarding my work and the pandemic. I’m not leaning on anything for support that is going to have unhealthy consequences. I’m back in the driving seat and that’s a powerful thing.

It’s a healthier lifestyle I’d recommend to anyone, not just those with high cholesterol.

I’ve hugely reduced my fat and sugar intake (isn’t as bad as it sounds as I demonstrate below) just in the same way I cut out alcohol in 2016. So I’m no longer having to continually battle, internally, over what I eat – I simply can’t eat fat or sugar like I used to, so it’s not even a thought that I have, along with the constant push and pull of *I want it but shouldn’t*, *I’m a bad person I’ve just eaten that chocolate* *I’ve had one biscuit, I may as well have the packet* *I’m not going out as I must look hideous*. So this aspect of my mental health has vastly improved, and my husband has commented several times, over recent months, how much I’ve changed – usually when I’m doing a silly dance to make him laugh (poor man!).

I truly believe I am eating like humans were meant to now – hardly any processed foods or ready meals, no fizzy drinks, plenty of whole grains, fruit and vegetables… and I feel fantastic for it. I’ve also lost 1 1/2 stones along the way, although that wasn’t my goal.

I don’t say this in a sanctimonious way. Sweet treats and ready meals have their place for people with no dietary health concerns. We lead busy, stressful lives. All I’m saying is sometimes those things we lean on – food, booze – can take control, with miserable and dangerous consequences, instead of us being the one truly in charge of what we consume.

The best thing is that I have no cravings. When I imagine eating a processed biscuit, a well-known brand, I immediately feel like wanting to eat several, my mouth almost salivates… but when I imagine eating my own low-baked goods or any of the low-fat treats I might buy… nothing. Those urges just aren’t there.

Here’s what I did – and just to add,  I am not medically qualified. If you are at all concerned about your cholesterol or want to change your diet for any reason, you should consult your doctor first.

Firstly, I went on the Heart UK website my own doctor suggested I consult. I CANNOT RECOMMEND THIS SITE HIGHLY ENOUGH – it will explain cholesterol and tell you everything you need to remove from, or add to your diet, and the recipes are fantastic.

Benecol – I’ve added products into my diet that contain plant stanols. These are proven to lower cholesterol. I have a yogurt drink on my breakfast every day, and use the Benecol light spread.

Oats are great at lowering cholesterol. I never used to be a huge fan of porridge but have it every other day now with blueberries, strawberries, chopped walnut halves, a Benecol no added sugar yogurt drink and a teaspoon of Agave syrup (instead of honey) – and even I think it’s pretty delicious! I alternate this with fruit and muesli. Also, when baking, sometimes I’ll add in oats to replace some of the flour.

Choose good fats, foods that are rich in unsaturated fats – it’s the saturated fat that you need to avoid that so often appears in processed foods, and animal products. So I eat walnuts for breakfast every day, avocado now and again, oily fish at least a couple of times a week, salmon and tuna being my favourite, and olives. And use vegetable based oils and spreads. Fats are an important part of the diet, just the right ones.

Low fat baking – it’s easier than I thought. The Heart UK site has some great recipes for savoury dishes but also a load of sweet treats like muffins and flapjacks, and there are many, many healthy recipes on the internet. It often means swapping butter for yogurt and I use the Benecol spread to bake with as well. Also fruits and vegetables can be used to make baking taste sweet without all the sugar, such as banana loaf, pear flan, carrot cake, blueberry rock cakes – the list of low fat/calorie recipes on the internet is endless and quite adventurous. If you go to @samanthatongeauthor on Instagram there are many photos of everything I’ve baked.

This baking aspect has been really important for me because I am a great coffee and cake lover and it means that I don’t feel deprived or as if I am missing out. And more than once the family has said they prefer these recipes as they don’t feel over-full afterwards.

Puddings are no problem either – fruit crumbles with a healthier topping, Ambrosia light rice pudding is nice, and the Heart UK site has a brilliant recipe for a fruit flan that I’ve made several times using different fruits and flavoured essences.

There are low-fat baked snacks to buy that are healthy – some of the flavoured oat biscuits by Nairns taste lovely, Soreen loaf bars are great, tea cakes are okay too, popcorn and popchips crisps… it’s about doing your research and looking at labels.  Look at the fat content. Look at the saturated fat content. Look at the traffic light labels.

They are plenty of healthy ways to fill up – wild or brown rice, home-made potato wedges using a little olive oil spray and herbs, boiled potatoes with their skins on, wholemeal bread, and, of course, lots of veggies, salads and fruit. 

Exercise is also key to lowering your cholesterol – I do a ten minute (yes, that’s all) cycle ride first thing and a couple of walks (to the shops or around the block) during the day. So it doesn’t need to be difficult.

Eating out is also fine. Do your research online. Study menus (many put the calorie content on there these days, and that’s a guide). I recently went out to an Indian restaurant and stuck to the tandoori dishes as they are cooked in a drier way, in a clay oven, they aren’t curries with possible rich, fatty sauces. I also had boiled rice, a Tandoori roti on the side (flatbread) and a salad as well. Lovely!

Desserts out are more of a challenge, but I’m in the process now of occasionally adding a treat to my diet – maybe a pudding out, a hot chocolate now and again – and then have agreed with my doctor I’ll have my cholesterol tested at Christmas, to see if it’s made much difference.

 

Of course, not all people will be able to  lower their cholesterol through diet – and at that point you will need to discuss other options with your doctor. But changing to a healthier lifestyle regardless can only be beneficial for you physically and mentally, in the short and long term.

It can sound daunting at first but stick with it – I don’t think twice about cooking everything from scratch now and my palate has completely changed, I just don’t crave the foods I used to comfort myself with. I’m so much happier, I feel so much fitter and most importantly, I’m no longer as scared about my health in the future.  In fact I feel better about everything and my new more balanced way of living helps me deal with the ups and downs of an author’s life.

 

The Winter We Met

I’ve very excited to reveal the cover for my upcoming winter release, The Winter We Met, out on October 8th!

It’s so pretty!

 

And here is the blurb! I can’t wait to share this story about love and community. Up for preorder now!

When charming, mysterious Nik sits next to Jess on a plane home from a Christmas toy trade fair, she never could have imagined the impact he’d have on her life. As they touch down in London, Jess is hesitant to let Nik walk away, and before she knows it, she’s invited him to visit.

As the two take in the delights of the toy store where she works, Jess gets an upsetting phone call. Willow Court, her Grandmother’s care home, is to close before Christmas. Jess is determined to find the perfect new home for her Gran – and throw the best Christmas party Willow Court has ever seen!

But time is running out with the closure looming and Jess becomes increasingly drawn to enigmatic Nik who joins forces with her and best friend Oliver to realise those plans.

Will a chance encounter on an aeroplane bring love to Jess’s life or is this Christmas miracle too good to be true?

One Day at a Time

A new concept was introduced to my life, in 2016, when I started the treatment that got me into recovery.

Take things one day at a time, I was told.

Don’t worry about tomorrow. Don’t dwell on yesterday. Focus only on today.

At the time of writing this I am 1331 days sober (I have an app). When I first stopped drinking I didn’t view my challenge as “I’m about to stop drinking for over 1000 days”. Goodness, that would have seemed even more daunting. No, I focused on the first day. One day. If I could get through that I was winning, it was an achievement I could build on. This approach made the challenge more manageable and I could even break that day down into smaller segments like one hour, if I wanted – and sometimes I’ve needed to do that, to get through.

I crossed the days off the calendar and one by one, all of those individual days started to add up.

However recovery still boils down to that basic thing – all you’ve got to do is keep sober for the next 24 hours.

This approach is excellent for all areas of life and can really help with your writing career.

 

 

 

Writing your manuscript

People often say to me that they can’t imagine having to write a whole novel, what a gargantuan task that might be. And I tell them I agree but I don’t think about it in that way when I sit down to start a new project. I tackle it one chapter at a time. Each day has a different focus but overall, added up, they all move the story forwards and before you know it you’ve written several thousands of words.

It doesn’t matter how many words your write each day because they all contribute, slowly but surely, to the overall goal.

The one day at a time approach is about not giving yourself such high aims that you are setting yourself up for failure.

“I am going to give up drinking for a year” versus “I am not going to drink today”

“I am going to sit down and write a novel” versus “I am going to write a scene or chapter of my story”

Small achievements boost the ego and keep motivation going.

And if you set yourself huge goals the time will never seem right. A busy year ahead might make you think you couldn’t possibly find time to write a novel – but it wouldn’t stop you from writing an individual chapter.

Just crack on with it, start today, doesn’t matter how much or how little you write.

This approach helped me enormously during this year’s lockdown when I had to write my next 2020 release, The Winter We Met (out October 8th). It was so hard to get words down as the pandemic unfolded, me constantly flicking between my manuscript and the latest worrying, incredible news headlines. But I carried on as I usually do, one day at a time, not thinking too much about the end goal but focusing on what I could achieve each day. And somehow that book was written.

 

Building your career

It can be very hard looking at other authors and seeing their achievements and wondering why you may  not have reached those dizzy heights yet.

But there is rarely such a thing as instant acclaim. As the wonderful George R. R. Martin once said:

“Most people were startled to find out there were books that preceded Game of Thrones. I’m a case of working 40 years to become an overnight success.”

Authors have built their brands one chapter at a time, one book at a time. You need to give your career time. A lucky few will hit it big with their debut – for many others it’s about not dwelling on disappointments of the past, not fantasising about the what ifs of the future, but focusing on the day in hand. And my agent will attest to the fact that I, like so many other writers, haven’t always found this easy!

When I first started writing I used to dream about standing on the red carpet at a premiere of a movie based on one of my books – and we wouldn’t be human if we didn’t have our daydreams – but now I know they’ve got to be backed up by daily grafting and focus, focus on the current project, the current chapter, the current scene. Focus on today without being distracted by the “I’ll never manage that” “My goals seem so far away” “I must be doing something wrong” “Luck’s just not on my side”

Often *debut* authors have several books under the bed (I’d written five novels before my debut Doubting Abbey got a deal). Some debuts are actually authors who’ve previously written under a different name and aren’t finding the success they want so try a change of direction.

Try not to get distracted by the noise of publishing, the hoo-ha about a big new author or ground-breaking novel that’s sold multi translation and movie rights – instead focus, focus, focus, on your own work, your own journey, and soon that novel will be written or that brand will begin to take shape.

You won’t always manage this. There will be relapses, in the same way there are for people in recovery – I picked up a drink again, after my initial 3 months of sobriety. And at times you might feel like giving up on your writing goals, feel that the hurdles are just too big to get where you want to or feel despondent after another rejection or a bad review.

But you now have a plan to get back to when this happens. That is, you get up the next day and, just for those 24 hours, you start again

Game of Scones in the Czech Republic!

I’m very excited that Game of Scones has been published by Baronet in the Czech Republic this month.

Aren’t these books gorgeous?!

As a graduate of Modern Languages it is fantastic to see my work translated.

 

 

The sequel, My Big Fat Christmas Wedding will be published there in October!

Lessons from Lockdown

It’s been three months now since the country went into lockdown and working through this pandemic has taught me several unexpected things about my author career…

I realise that my writing is a hugely important constant in my life. It’s got me up in the morning. It’s kept me busy. My latest work in progress, and watching it unfold, has given each day a sense of normality and continuity. It has been a distraction from the chaos and tragedy happening around me locally and in the world. I’m incredibly grateful for this. Writing is my friend. It’s given me a purpose and passion at this very challenging time.

More than ever I respect the romantic comedy genre. During lockdown my thirteenth book, The Summer Island Swap has been published and reviewers have kindly said what a welcome escape the story is from our current difficult situation. I’ve had comments like these before about my books, as other romcom authors will have, from readers who’ve been having a hard time and found that such stories give them a momentary break. There is a certain snobbery out there towards romance books but lockdown has shown clearly how much people need fictional escapism and happy-ever-afters when the real world is a scary place.

Writer’s block – I’ve always written through it before and have done so again these last months. When the pandemic was unfolding in the UK, in late March, and throughout April and May, I had to write my Christmas 2020 novel. I soldiered on, putting finger to keyboard, telling myself that was the main thing, the rewrite could sort out any mess. But this time I discovered writer’s block on a whole new level. Yes, I eventually achieved the wordage I wanted but I felt blocked when it came to working out the structure of the overall plot arcs and the pace. With daily mortality rates and Covid 19 guidelines appearing minute by minute on social media, with daily worries on a personal level, I just couldn’t focus. So I guess lockdown has shown me that writer’s block isn’t as simple as I once thought. It’s not just about not being able to increase that word count. It’s also about not being able to get your head around the big things like developing character and expanding the themes.

And leading on from this I appreciate my agent more than ever. I’ve always thought she was amazingly supportive, especially with the editorial support she offers, but recently I’ve felt I need it on a different level. Her fresh pair of eyes has been able to offer perspective on the bigger aspects of the story and she’s given me confidence in what I’ve written. Between us I feel we’ve really been able to shape that sticky first draft  into a book I’m so excited about and can’t wait to share in October!

I’ve also appreciated her support around the fact that due to lockdown, I struggled to meet my deadline and needed her to ask for it to be pushed back a bit. All the editors I’ve ever worked with have been brilliantly flexible about this but still, it’s been great, during lockdown, to have one less thing to worry about.

Authors sometimes ask me about my view on agents. I find mine indispensable.

Finally, I’ve always thought of myself as a bit of a hermit writing from home, reading, watching Netflix in the evenings… however during lockdown I’ve been surprised at just how much I miss meeting up with my writing friends in real life. A group of us have coffee together in Manchester once a month and haven’t been able to do that for ages. Plus the Romantic Novelists’ Association is celebrating its Diamond Anniversary this year and has had to cancel various events, including a special summer party in June. I last saw my romance friends at an awards ceremony at the beginning of March and had such a lovely time. Social media is great but there’s nothing quite like a face to face chat where you can discuss things you might not want to share online, and have a good-humoured chat about the latest ups and downs of your career.

To sum up, due to lockdown, I’m more grateful than ever for my writing and the people connected to the industry who support it – my agent, my fellow authors, the readers who give feedback.

It’s been a horrendous time so any positives are welcome. And I end this post sending my thanks to keyworkers and love to everyone who’s been struggling.

Animal Attraction

Almost all of my novels include an animal – either wild ones or pets. My mother was a huge animal lover and I can’t imagine creating a fictional world without them. As a child I had cats, rabbits, hamsters, fish and budgies and since I’ve had children can add stick insects to that list! Mum was an active supporter of the RSPCA and, I hope, would have loved my new novel The Summer Island Swap, that focuses on a tropical island conservation project. As a family we watched all of David Attenborough’s documentaries and we’d  marvel over the beautiful species he introduced to viewers.  As an adult I’ve rarely been without a pet – here is my current queen, Mitzie, a very affectionate long-haired tortoiseshell cat.

However, like everything else in your work, animals must have a function if they are to appear and here are some of the reasons I find them useful:

An animal is another tool in your writing work box to drive plot and demonstrate character. Take Toto in the Wizard of Oz. Trying to catch him is the reason Dorothy doesn’t hide in the cellar and gets swept away by the cyclone. He also tells the reader, early on, that Dorothy is a loyal, brave and loving person – her thoughts were with saving her dog, not her personal safety.

In The Summer Island Swap it is a monkey, Chatty, that takes centre stage in the fictional tropical world of Seagrass Island. Conservation leader Rick comes across as surly and abrupt yet shows a deep degree of tenderness with this small animal that he rescued. This gives the main character – and the reader – clues, from the off, that there is a softer story behind the offhand exterior of the male protagonist.

So the use of animals is an effective way of showing the grey areas of a character that, initially, might simply seem black or white. And they can also demonstrate a change in character – the smart, executive female protagonist of my summer story goes on an emotional journey and aspects of her are different by the final chapter – her rough and tumble friendship with Chatty the monkey has contributed towards that.

Animals can also make stories relatable and feel like home. Pets feature heavily in contemporary romances that write about modern people’s lives, where they walk dogs or talk to their cats. People own pets for all sorts of reasons – health, companionship, status – and including them offers additional ways of reflecting your readers’ lives on the pages.

Take my 2018 romance novel, One Summer In Rome. It features a blind Italian Protagonist, Dante, and his guide dog, Oro, (Italian for Gold). Their relationship is a functional one. Yet it’s also very much a partnership, built out of a  mutual respect and love. The moving and affectionate moments between characters and their furry friends add a heartwarming, relatable glow to stories for those readers who own a pet or have fond memories of a past one.

Also animals are, in general, hugely appealing, so don’t underestimate the the ah factor. As the creator of the web, Tim Berners-Lee, said, talking about how he imagined the internet would develop over time, “I never expected all these cats.” As a writer I have to admit procrastination due to watching animal rescue stories online, or videos of them performing tricks!

Of course animals feature predominantly in children’s literature and some adult fiction. I devoured Enid Blyton’s stories as a child and especially loved Brer Rabbit. When I got older favourites were the Stonor Eagles and Duncton Wood and the animal communities within these stories, with their leaders and followers, are effective at showing readers how a society functions. Plus a wide cast, with different species, subconsciously teaches children about the differences between people and, perhaps, how we should all get on, even though we might look nothing like each other. And they are also instrumental is helping children take the first tentative steps to understanding and accepting death. Author Tom Moorhouse has written an excellent piece about why animals are important in children’s fiction and you can read that here.

When my son came back from his rainforest volunteering trip I immediately wanted to write a story about animals that needed rescuing and the people who did that. From the feedback I’ve had so far, readers have fallen in love with monkey Chatty and I’m thrilled with that. Especially for contemporary romances, animal characters are an extra way of pulling on your readers’ heartstrings, in this way making them become even more invested in the story and driven to keep turning those pages.