S.C. Green's Blog, page 14

Petrified City is now available for pre-order for just $0.99

Welcome to Petrified City, where the dead don’t stay in the ground.

Ten years ago, an accident at the city chemical plant leaked toxins into the soil of the historic Brookwood Hill Cemetery. From the poisoned ground emerged the wraith – ghosts of the long dead who gorge on the energy sucked from the city’s dwindling population. Desperate to contain the threat, the government enclosed the city in a giant dome, trapping the wraith and the residents inside. 

Now, there’s almost nothing left. 

Sydney Cale – a thief with a strange and secret power – attempts to escape from the city’s jailers, only to find herself facing off against the wraith. She teams up with Alain, a raven shapeshifter who is a member of the Order of the Reapers, a powerful force who work to banish the wraith back to the underworld. Alain agrees to protect Sydney and her friend Diana in exchange for her help. She must enter the Citadel – the wraith compound in the center of the city – and steal back his kidnapped daughter. 

But what Sydney finds inside the Citadel will change everything. The wraith are evolving, drawing energy from the decaying city itself. Soon, they will be powerful enough to break free of the dome. Sydney and Alain must stop the wraith before they escape and infect the world, even if that means dooming themselves, and everyone they love, to petrifying inside the dying city.

Coming 23rd September. Pre-order your Kindle copy now for the special price of $0.99.

When I finished the Engine Ward series with Thorn back in April, I wasn’t sure when I’d next be publishing a pure fantasy or science fiction book. I adore speculative fiction with all my heart, but it is a lot harder to break into as an indie author than romance. My Steffanie Holmes books are doing so well, I’ve been focusing on writing and publishing more of those. I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to dig into my favourite genre once more.

As it turns out, fate presented me with a saviour, in the guise of author Lindsey R. Loucks. This chick is whip-smart, an amazing writer, and (best of all) a brutal line editor. Lindsey posted an announcement back in June inquiring if anyone might be interested in co-writing a book with her. I jumped at the chance.

What followed were days of excited brainstorming via email and google drive, as we came up with a concept and fleshed out a story of a decaying city, a maniacal man with a god complex (readers of my Engine Ward series know I do so love those), a broken hero, and a heroine who kick arse and talks tough but still wears her heart on her sleeve. I wrote the draft, and as I sent each chapter to Lindsey, she tore them to pieces and put them back together again into a stronger, better book than I could’ve ever created on my own.

I am so, so proud of this book. I’ve loved urban fantasy for years, ever since I read Emma Bull’s War for the Oaks and discovered that contemporary fantasy set in gritty cities filled with underground cults and strange creatures was actually a thing. To have made my own contribution to the genre gives me such a warm, happy feeling. I just hope it stands up alongside the greats.

A short FAQ:
Will there be paperbacks of Petrified City available?

There sure will be! If you want to find out when they come on sale, best thing to do is sign up for my newsletter.

If I buy a pre-order copy, when will I be able to read the book? Do I get it before the official release date of September 23?

When you pre-order on Amazon, your credit card isn’t charged until the release date. On that day, Amazon collects the money and automatically sends out the book file to your device. The only way to read Petrified City before the official release day is to either be a book reviewer, or be a member of my Patreon (which you should totally do!)

This book looks awesome! What can I do to help it become a success?

Please, if you think this book sounds like your kind of thing, support me by grabbing your copy, or forwarding it to a friend who loves dark, dystopian fantasy in an urban setting, or sharing it on social media, to just telling your workmates about the crazy blind chick writing books. Help us spread the word and find new readers. The more copies we sell on pre-order, the more Amazon helps to support our work getting in front of more people.

Thank you so much you guys, for your support over the years. I really hope you enjoy Petrified City!

If you want the details first when new books come out, then sign up for my newsletter (you get a couple of free books, too!). Or, better yet, become a Patreon backer and get all the behind-the-scenes info, more free books, bonus material, and my eternal gratitude

 

Updates, New York Times, new boxset, Stuff and Daily Mail articles, and Attitude Awards

Me after 12 hours of constant learning and laughing and talking at RWNZ. Seriously, though – this hotel bed was the best.

This is just a little update to tell you about some of the crazy exciting things that have been going on in my novel-writing life.

First of all, I just typed THE END on my latest novel – an urban fantasy co-written with the fabulous Lindsey R Loucks. It’s called Petrified City and it is dark and delicious and full of action and madness and ghosts and guns and shapeshifting ravens and Jurassic Park references and all the good stuff. It’s coming out next month, but if you want to read it first, you should be following my Patreon.

I got back from RWNZ (Romance Writers of New Zealand) conference completely inspired and energised. I presented two workshops – one on blogging, the other on writing books in series – and they seemed to go over pretty well. Highlights of the conference for me were:

a talk by urban fantasy legend Keri Arthur (I adore her books) about the push/pull of her career and how she’d weathered all these incredible writing challenges.
an incredible workshop about identifying your fears and being the hero of your own story, from Hollywood story specialist Michael Hauge (he worked on Hitch)
and Heather Graham (this amazing lady has written more than 200 books!) who was just bubbly and fabulous and friendly and wonderful.

I spent the whole weekend talking books and writing with some of the most inspiring, talented, savvy and fun ladies. Seriously, I couldn’t stop smiling because everyone was so kind and rad and everyone I met was just brilliant. So much talent in one room. Oh, and my hotel room … between the two enormous, cosy, cloud like beds all to myself and the shower so large I could swing two cats, and the spa-bath and the little bottles of conditioning treatment and did I mention the beds?

These ladies (and a few gents) have got it going ON. Cannot WAIT for next year’s conference (which is down in Wellington, so ROAD TRIP. Plus, I’m gonna bring my husband, too :))

I HAVE NOOS. So much noos.

Magic & Mayhem hit number 27 on the USA Today bestseller list, and 13 on the New York Times bestseller list! It’s fucking amazing to see a project you worked your ass off hanging out in the NEW YORK FUCKING TIMES. So woo! Now I have to edit all my book covers … again. :)

I’m also participating in a new box set – Fall into Magic. This is an urban fantasy and paranormal romance box set, with 19 other amazing authors including a ton of NYT and USA-Today bestsellers. It’s only $0.99 right now and I suggest you get your copy toot-sweet!

An article about my books and celebrating life appeared in the local newspaper, because I did a little meet-and-greet at the local library, and it was reprinted here on Stuff.co.nz: Green’s books, beasts and bethrothals. Thankfully, they turned comments off (Stuff commenters are notorious for basically being the cesspool of the internet), but my friend Shane kindly supplied me with a few so I wouldn’t feel left out. I’ve reprinted them for you as they made me giggle.

“I bet she’s a bloody immigrant pushing up Auckland housing prices!”

“All writers are just bludgers sucking money away from hard working people like me and my white friends she needs to spend some time in the army that will straighten her up GET A REAL JOB”

“Typical, a woman thinking she can do what she wants, when she wants, my wife would never run off to greece to study ROCKS i mean i don’t have a wife because i am repulsive but the point is vote John Key.”

And THEN, that article caught the eye of a reporter at the Daily Mail, so they picked up my little story, too (Although they mainly focus on my wedding celebrant hobby). Meet the alternative wedding celebrant who officiates gothic, vampire, and medieval nuptials.

Probably the biggest news of all is that I am a finalist in the Artistic Achievement category for the 2016 Attitude Awards. These awards are given out every year to New Zealanders who have a disability and who exemplify the values of the Attitude Trust, and who have achieved at a high level in their chosen profession or pursuit. It is such an amazing honour to be a finalist. I am absolutely blown away. CDH and I will be attending the gala awards dinner, and I am really looking forward to dressing up snazzy, eating glorious food, and celebrating the achievements and triumphs of some pretty incredible kiwis.

Phew.

So, needless to say, it’s been a bit of a wild month! I hope yours has been filled with some excitement and joy, too. Also, who is thrashing the new Wardruna track? It is sooooo good.

When I’m not talking to reporters about vampires or lounging around in hotel suites that look like clouds, I write science fiction and paranormal romance novels. If you want the details first when new books come out, then sign up for my newsletter (you get a couple of free books, too!). Or, better yet, become a Patreon backer and get all the behind-the-scenes info, more free books, bonus material, and my eternal gratitude

10 weird questions people ask me about being a writer

For the last three years, if a person asks me what I do for a living, I’ve been stoked to be able to finally say, “I am a writer.” Even though I am not a full-time novelist (yet) my books sell well enough that I can see I’m building a wonderful future career, and my day job as a marketing copywriter means that whatever I’m doing, it involves manipulating words in some way.

Telling people you’re a writer can lead to some pretty interesting discussions, from listening politely while people describe their brilliant novels ideas to debating the use of unreliable narrators and introducing people at dinner parties to the concept of ergodic literature, it seems that writers are always in demand at social functions.

I can’t speak for other writers, but I get the same questions again and again. Some of them are great, and some are just … odd. Here are some questions people often ask me, and all the things I say (or would like to say) in reply.

1. Where do your ideas come from?

Maybe it’s because I am a writer, but of all the questions to ask, I find this exceptionally dull. I mean, where does anyone’s ideas come from? From the wobbly grey matter between their ears.

The idea isn’t the important part. Everyone and their uncle has an idea for a character or a book. I bet you could come up with one right now. Robert Greeves has to save the world from gigantic caterpillars who are systematically wiping out all the vegetation. Ursela Gumpty wakes up one day to discover she is a bat. Rebecca Snizzlebob desperately wants to win the speed-eating championship, but is she desperate enough to make a deal with the devil? (actually, that lost one has some potential …)

When I meet a creative person, I never want to hear about their ideas. I’m more interested in their process or their medium or their expression. I’m also more often then not envious of their shoes.

To answer the question, I usually get ideas by asking myself questions. “What would happen if the world actually behaved like this?” “What would have to happen to a good person to make them do this?” “What if you woke up one morning and things were like this?” Usually, I ask myself these questions when I’m not doing anything else – either while I’m in the shower, or out on a run, or waiting for the bus.

Neil Gaiman has a lovely essay on answering the question of where he gets his ideas from. Preach it, Mr. Gaiman.

2. Have I heard of you?

I don’t know. Have you? I mean, there are tens of thousands of writers in the world. Probably even hundreds of thousands who are currently writing or have recently written. And that’s not even including all the writers who wrote and then died. And you read, what, twelve books a year? And you think I’m secretly hiding my identity as Patricia Cornwell?

To answer you question, it’s unlikely you’ve heard of me unless your a regular and voracious reader of indie romance or science fiction. But I don’t measure my success by how many people recognise my name, so that’s OK.

3. Are you trying to get your book made into a movie?

I think I hear this question a lot because people have seen a ton of movies that were once books. I think especially if you’re not an avid reader you may assume this is the ultimate goal of any writer. In actual fact, its something so unlikely to happen that it doesn’t even register as something to aim for.

Don’t get me wrong, if one of my books was optioned for film or a studio approached me about it, I would be over the moon with excitement. But I try to focus my efforts on goals that I can control. So I’m too busy writing the next book.

4. Are all your sex scenes written from real life?

I find this question SO ODD because no one asks a mystery writer if all their murder scenes are written from real life experience. No one asks me if I’ve ever met a vampire or seen a man turn into a raven or chased a dinosaur through the streets of Victorian London. But no writer could possibly invent a sex scene from thin air …

The answer is no, they come from my head, like all of the stuff in all of my books. They are driven by the characters – I’m not trying to write a manual or an essay about my own experiences, I’m trying to create a scene that rings true to the experiences and chemistry and tastes of the characters.

There is a small element of truth in all writing, because you have to dig into your own emotions and understand them in order to write about them convincingly for a character. I think as a writer we’re probably writing scenes we enjoy because we love our characters and want them to have superfunsexytimes.

But does my husband tie me up to medieval torture devices like Ulrich in the Witch Hunter series? If he did, do you think I’d tell you? Quite frankly, that’s none of your damn business.

If you read a scene and you wonder if it’s real, realise the emotions are probably real to the writer, but everything else is made up.

5. Why did you start writing?

I actually answered this question in-depth in a post from last year – Why I Write.

6. I’ve got this great idea for a book. Why don’t I tell you about it, and you can write it, and then we can both share the profits?

No.

No no no no no.

Y— wait. Had you fooled. No.

Ideas are the easy part. I think I said this earlier. I literally have ideas for more than twenty books I’d love to write, all of which are probably more commercially viable than your idea, because I do this writing thing as a job and I know what the market wants.

How about I give YOU an idea, and YOU go and spend months or years writing 70,000 cohesive words based on that idea, while I go to the beach? And then I’ll take 50% of the royalties? How good does that sound?

Yeah. I thought so.

I don’t want your idea. And I can tell you right now it is not worth 50% royalties from a book that might take me months to write. I do answer this question politely when someone asks it, but it does rankle, as it belittles the hard work that goes into writing a book.

7. Which bookstores have your books / can I find your book at the library?

I find this question odd mainly because I’m no so used to thinking about books being electronic now (and writing and speaking to that market) that it’s odd when I speak to someone who old reads in hard copy.

To answer the question, I’m unlikely to be in any stores. A bookstore could order copies of my books if you asked them, but you’d be better off buying them online from Amazon.

Most people don’t understand the differences between indie and traditionally published writers, or why some writers focus on the ebook market while others sell primarily in paperback or hardback. I try to explain a bit, but sometimes it can be more hassle than it’s worth.

Although, in saying this, talking about print versus electronic and bookstores can actually lead into a really cool discussion. Once I went to a dinner party at our neighbours house and I said my books were only available from Amazon. He whipped out his phone and brought a copy of The Sunken right there!

8. You say you write science fiction / romance? You mean, like (insert name of completely unrelated author here)?

Yes, exactly like them. I just copy/paste, change “Muggle” to “Dinosaur”, and hit publish.

I don’t mind this question, although sometimes it can be confusing as I might not know the authors they compare me too. Sometimes, people are fishing in a completely unrelated genre, which can be a bit odd. I had an interview the other day where the interviewer clearly read mostly on the literary side of the spectrum, and I am thoroughly and unapologetically genre. She was trying to compare my gothic romance books to a lot of gothic literature, and it just wasn’t working.

9. Can you read this thing I’ve written?

No. And you don’t want me to.

I only have a very limited amount of free time, and I honestly prefer to spend it hanging out with my husband and my cats then reading other people’s usually atrocious writing for no compensation. I gave up paid freelancing three years ago in order to pursue my own passion for writing fiction, and that was also when I gave up saying Yes to projects I really didn’t want to do.

Very few people actually want to hear what I’d say about their writing. The truth is, I approach writing in a very specific way, with the goal of selling books and making a career out of it. If you’re writing in a genre I’m not that familiar with, or you’re doing something that’s not commercial, or you’re doing a commercial thing in a non-commercial way, or you’re writing just for fun and all you want to hear is “great work! Keep going.”, I am probably not the right person to speak to.

I am not a brutal person by nature, and I’m pretty good at making sunshine and unicorns out of harsh criticism, but I will still tell you honestly what I think, and after pouring your heart and soul into a piece, most people probably don’t want to hear that.

I do make exceptions to this rule, usually for young writers who I think need a bit of encouragement to pursue writing as a career (especially if their parents are trying to tell them it’s not a good career choice), for friends, and for genuinely awesome people who I totally click with.

10. What advice would you give to someone trying to write their first book?

Write.

That’s it. Writing is like any other sport, hobby, or pursuit. The more you do it, the better at it you get. Practicing every day makes you better. You’re exercising those muscles the same way you train for a marathon. Write every day. Set yourself a word count goal (I always advise people to start with 250 words a day. That’s about three paragraphs, but by the end of a year, you’d have a full novel). Just write until you hit it.

Don’t worry about what words you’re using. Don’t fret about syntax or go loopy over flowery prose. Just push a story out through your fingers. Read this motivational article by Chuck Wendig, and get back to writing.

More weird questions

I am definitely not the only writer who experiences weird questions. There’s actually an astute and hilarious article in the Irish Times about weird questions writers are asked at interviews. And another interesting piece on Talking Writing about women writers and bad interviews. I haven’t really been interviewed enough to comment on this article’s subject matter, but it is some interesting food for thought.

What odd questions do you get asked about YOUR profession?

When I’m not answering random questions and having Eureka moments in the shower, I write science fiction and paranormal romance novels. If you want the details first when new books come out, then sign up for my newsletter (you get a couple of free books, too!). Or, better yet, become a Patreon backer and get all the behind-the-scenes info, more free books, bonus material, and my eternal gratitude.

post-scriptum: that week I cut my hair off

So, it looks like my headbanging days are over.

That’s right. I cut off my hair, that I’ve been growing for about ten years. I was pretty nervous when I sat down in the hairdresser’s chair, but after the first snip I was smiling. I love the way it looks now, and I feel so light and free and strange. It’s very Daniel Jackson from Stargate SG1, but I love it.

Here are some other things I’ve been doing.

In my ears: I’ve been thrashing a ton of Abney Park this week. Weird steampunk western music, ahoy!

Reading: I have discovered a new author obsession. H Y Hanna writes the Oxford Tearoom Mysteries, a series of cosy mysteries set in Oxford, England, where tearoom owner Gemma and her cat Muesli solve increasingly strange crimes. The first book is A Scone to Die For. The writing is so engaging, and the books are hilarious. They contain everything I love – English baking, murder, Oxford and cats. I read all four books in the series in a week, am just finishing up the prequel, (which is currently free, so grab it!) and am anxiously awaiting the next book in September.

Writing: I have completed 56,000 words of Petrified City, the book I’m co-writing with Lindsey R Loucks. I’m estimating around 20,000 words to go, so we’re getting close! We’re starting to work on the cover and launch strategy, too. I’m very excited, as I haven’t had a release under my fantasy name – S. C. Green – since I released Thorn back in March.

I am also 10,000 words into a werewolf shapeshifter novel under my romance name, Steffanie Holmes. This one is set on an archaeological excavation, and so far it is lots of fun!

Watching: We finished Star Trek: Voyager and I LOVE it. So much. But I really wanted to know what happened to everyone on the crew AFTER they returned to earth. Now we are re-watching all the episodes of Sherlock. Sigh of happiness. Also, saw two movies this week I adored: Starman and True Grit. I am now a big Jeff Bridges fan. True Grit might be my new favourite revisionist Western.

On the farm: WE HAVE LAMBS. So many lambs. 11 lambs. They are so cute and they prance everywhere and have little black kneepads and splotches.

We have a lot of chores to do, but the weather has been very prohibitive, so mostly we’ve been trying to do a lot of inside work.

Loving: Last weekend we hosted 14 friends for a midwinter feast. There was mead, cider, 5-hour slow-cooked roast lamb, port, and SO MUCH CHEESE. I love my friends for coming all the way out to our place and making things like this so much fun. \m/ Went to Chop Chop in Ponsonby with my friend Samface on Friday night – it is a whisky and noodle bar, which sounds like a thing that doesn’t work, but it does. Oh boy but it does. If you go, get the beef brisket bun. You’re welcome. \m/ Looking at all my friends’ photos from Wacken on Facebook. Feeling a bit sad we’re not there, but also feeling stoked that everyone is enjoying themselves and remembering all the awesome times. \m/ Being excited about all the fun things I’ve got going on for the rest of the year. I am one of those people who always needs to be planning something and looking forward to something. And this year there’s so much stuff to plan \m/ I just booked accommodation for my trip to the South Island, including staying in a hostel in Christchurch that was once an old prison. \m/ I have some BIG NEWS that I can’t post until next week, but I am still doing a Snoopy Dance about it. \m/ Writing a fun article about weird questions I get asked about being a writer. Got any questions? I can add them. \m/ Romance Writers of New Zealand conference next weekend! Eeeee! I get to meet Keri Arthur and I have to present two workshops and talk to all the other writers and it’s a bit scary but also really exciting.

I think that’s it for me. What about you?

When I’m not doing all of this stuff, I write science fiction and paranormal romance novels. If you want the details first when new books come out, then sign up for my newsletter (you get a couple of free books, too!). Or, better yet, become a Patreon backer and get all the behind-the-scenes info, more free books, bonus material, and my eternal gratitude.

Last chance to grab the Magic & Mayhem fantasy box set: 21 novels for just $0.99

As I may have already mentioned, oh, 1001 times, my dark steampunk novel The Sunken is part of this amazing box set called Magic & Mayhem. The set includes fantasy novels from me and 20 other incredible writers, including Jasmine Walt, Emily Goodwin, Margo Bond Collins, Thea Atkinson … and so many more.

It’s awesome being involved in these box set projects as I get to work with a team of cool authors, and we get to introduce a whole new crowd of people to our work. Readers can sample work for different authors in a low-risk scenario and hopefully find some new favourites. This set has a great mix of titles, from my dark science fiction to gritty urban fantasy to sexy shapeshifters, capricious gods, traditional epics, and so much more in this collection of spellbinding fiction.

We’ve sold close to 15,000 copies of this set already, which means we’re well on our way to hitting a bestseller list!

If you want to grab your copy of Magic & Mayhem, you’ve only got a day left at the current price of $0.99. After that, the price goes up to $2.99 and the set becomes available on Kindle Unlimited – so if you’re a member there you can borrow it to read for nothing.

Grab your copy: Amazon | Nook | Kobo | Apple

Next week, I’ll also be pulling all my Engine Ward books from wide distribution and enrolling them in Kindle Unlimited. This means you’ll be able to devour the entire series as part of the $10 per month subscription rate. If you read on a non-kindle device, you might want to grab your copy now.

And, a new S. C. Green title in a brand new series is going to be hitting digital bookshelves next month. I’m so ridiculously excited about this book, and can’t wait to introduce you to the world of the Petrified City. (Patreon backers have already got to read a ton of juicy excerpts – so if you want first dibs on this title, become a backer). So for those of you hanging out for a book of mine that isn’t a romance, I hope you’re going to be well-pleased

In the meantime, grab your copy of Magic & Mayhem and sink your teeth into some awesome fantasy books!

If you want to be the first to know when new books come out, then sign up for my newsletter (you get a couple of free books, too!). Or, better yet, become a Patreon backer and get all the behind-the-scenes info, more free books, bonus material, and my eternal gratitude.

Steff’s Incan Adventure: Hiking the Inca Trail (with tips and a ton of images)

It was my Mum’s dream since she was a little girl to visit Machu Picchu. When I developed an interest in archaeology at a young age, she was overjoyed, because it meant she had someone to share her dreams and ideas with. She was one of the biggest influences and encouragement for my interest – taking me to meetings of the Egyptian Society, going fossil hunting, recording every documentary about archaeology that aired after my bedtime.

When I was at university studying archaeology, she came to visit me in Auckland during the holidays. This one time, we walked past a travel agent shop displaying a poster of Macchu Picchu. She stopped at admire it. “I’ve always wanted to go there,” she said, in a wistful tone that clearly implied it was never going to happen. Ridiculous, I thought. So I dragged her inside. We emerged 30 minutes later, our arms loaded down with brochures for Peru and an adventurous plan forming in our minds.

We were going to go together an hike the Inca Trail after I finished my studies. However, in my last year I was offered a spot on a New Zealand classical studies expedition to Greece and Crete. Six weeks of travelling with fellow classics geeks, studying the ruins of Greece and Mycenae and the Minoan Empire, finding ancient tomes in some of the oldest classical libraries of the world … I couldn’t pass that up. So we put off our Peru trip. And then the next year I got married, and then I went to Europe, and then my mum went to Australia, and then she and Dad went to Europe … ten years went by and we still hadn’t gone on our Peru trip.

Mum was starting to say if she didn’t go before she was 60 then she’d never go. I didn’t want her to miss out on something that felt so far away to her but was so possible. When my books started taking off and I was able to set aside royalties for travel, we picked up the idea of going again. It just so happened our journey through the Andes would coincide with her 59th birthday. It was too good a chance to pass up. This time last year, we boarded a plane for South America for a month of adventuring.

I’ve already written about some of our adventures – Visiting the home of Pablo Neruda, Wandering the Witches Markets of La Paz, Living with the locals on Lake Titicaca, and Seeing Monkeys and Spiders in the Amazon. But here follows my account of the reason for our trip – our hike along the ancient Inca Trail – a sacred roadway used by people for centuries to reach the Incan city of Macchu Picchu.

Inca Trail: Day Zero

After a long bus trip north from Lake Titicaca (buses in Peru are LOVELY – this one had huge seats, movies playing, and a great view across the mountain pass), we arrived in Cusco. Cusco was one of my favourite cities we visited in South America. I loved the layout of the place, how the Spanish colonial architecture lay on top of the Incan foundations. It was little and vibrant, filled with eateries and little shops and beautiful colonial churchs. We spent a day in Cusco before the trail, exploring the ruins of the Incan sacred valley with our guide Reuban (who had his masters in Peruvian archaeology. Needless to say we had a lot to talk about!), and gathering supplies for the hike. After a fortifying meal of guinea pig (tastes a lot like duck. No joke), Mike and I spent some time perusing the whisky selection at the local supermarket before settling on a lovely bottle of $7 something-or-other.

Our team of porters would carry all the camping gear, including a bag containing up to 5kgs of our personal gear. We would be responsible for carrying anything else we wanted in a small day pack. I packed a sleeping bag I’d rented and a ton of warm clothes and socks into my porter bag, and loaded up my pack with snacks, more warm clothes, a rain poncho and – of course – the whisky.

Inca Trail: Day One

We stayed the night in Ollantaytambo (the name just rolls off the tongue) in a little guesthouse in the shadows of the ruins of an Incan city. There were beautiful gardens and a cat to keep us company. After a breakfast of warm pancakes and jam, we travelled with the trek guide and porters to Kilometre 82 waymarker (2,680 metres above sea level) – the official start of the Inca Trail.

Reuban introduced us to our six porters – the amazing men who would carry the majority of our gear up the trail ahead of us, set up our camp each night, and cook our meals. The porters come from local villagers, and work on the trail carrying bags when they aren’t needed on their family farms. Some of our porters were over 60 years old, and had done the hike many times, others were much younger – in their 20s – with less experience. I must admit, looking at these tiny guys wearing nothing but tracksuits and sandshoes packing 50kgs of camping equipment into their packs, I felt like a real privalleged fucker. I was almost ready to grab all my gear back and take it myself, but luckily common sense stopped me.

It begins.

Love the scenic traditional Incan pylon. This brings electricity to the villages that still exist in the foothills of the mountains.

We took our photographs beneath the Inca Trail site while Reuban checked our passports and permits and paid the fee for us all to enter the trail. The Inca Trail is heavily regulated by the Peruvian government, in accordance to its status as a UNESCO heritage site. It used to be much less-so, with porters regularly carrying far too much gear, and tourists coming and going as they pleased, camping wherever they wanted (including on the archaeological sites). Now, the porters have their bags weighed to make sure they’re not carrying too much gear, and only 500 tourists a day are allowed to enter the trail. We have to camp at designated sites. This helps to protect the archaeology and the track, and ensure the whole experience is a bit safer.

The first stretch of track followed a winding, meandering river through a valley. We passed little villages of stone and wood houses and lots of donkey and alpacas. You could buy water and other supplies on the side of the track. There was a bustling, vibrant atmosphere, as though I were a traveller on a well-used trade route.

It’s a very strange experience hiking and stopping for lunch in your own tent with hot food already prepared for you. The porters run ahead and set everything up for your meals and sites. The food is incredible – hearty Peruvian fare like chicken fried with spices, rice and bean dishes, rice and quinoa cakes, dishes made with peruvian cheeses, stuffed peppers and chilis, and lots and lots of potatoes. All washed down with hot coca-leaf tea to help our bodies adjust to the altitude. At some stops, we even had local village cats coming by to see if we had any table scraps.

Maik chilling with some terraces.

Because we’d arrived in La Paz and had been living at altitude for about a week already, we didn’t suffer much from the effects on the hike. It’s weird to feel short of breath all the time, but after a while you just get used to it, and enjoy the walk and the landscape. Being able to go at your own pace and stop whenever you want for a break also helped a lot.

The first day’s walk was around 12 kilometers on relatively flat ground. Reuban called it “Incan flat” which means that stairs go up, then they go down again. And again, and again. And again. Those wacky Incans sure had a sick sense of humour. We passed beautiful scenery, mountains and valleys and prehistoric rock formations.

Along the way we passed through many archaeological sites. The Inca Trail was a sacred way and a main throughfare for the settlements in the Andes, so it makes sense that along the way there will be the remains of other cities, some perhaps even grander than Macchu Picchu. I particularly enjoyed looking down over the city of Patallajta, “the town on the hillside.” This is a complex situated at the foot of a mountain, located at 2650m. Archaeological remains suggest that this settlement was taken over 2000 years ago from pre-Inca people and expanded by the Incas; it has more of a functional purpose, rather than ceremonial – evidenced by the impressive rings of terraces used to grow food to supply the other settlements and “tambos” (travelers’ rest stations) along the Inca Trail, and likely even Machupicchu itself. Though well planned and constructed, most of the architecture is utilitarian and repetitive in style, the stone work is solid but rough compared with the snugly fitted stones seen at later sites.

Yup. This looks totally sturdy and safe.

The first night we camped in the backyard of a kind family in Wayllabamba, the last village at the foot of the Andes – 3,000 metres above sea level. Beyond this point, no people lived permanently in the Andes. It was just mountains and ruins. We passed around the whisky and toasted our first day accomplished.

Inca Trail: Day Two

Day two started at 6AM, where we were roused with a hearty breakfast cooked by Pio, our amazing chef. We packed up all the gear and start with a gradual ascent, which soon becomes a steep ascent and then a why-the-fuck-did-I-ever-agree-to-do-this ascent. 9 kilometres later, I was the first in my group to hit the Dead Women’s Pass (Warmiwañusca). I must admit, I felt pretty damn pleased with myself!

We’ve got to get up there. Seems totally doable.

Approaching Dead Women’s Pass

I hate stairs.

Seriously. Fuck this shit. I’m going home.

I made it! Check out my gleeful laugh of relief.

Physically, I am pretty fit, but I haven’t hiked a long distance in a number of years, and the stairs and the altitude make this a challenge for anyone. It’s amazing to be able to push yourself beyond what you normally believe you’re capable of and discover your limits are actually well beyond what you thought they were.

But more than that, I’m so proud of my mum, who made it to the pass only an hour or so after me. She took the day slow and steady, just focusing on the ground in front of her. She showed a remarkable spirit!

Dead Women’s Pass may have an ominious name, but I learned from Reuban that is is not named because women regularly fall off the perilous, windy precipace, but in fact because from the other side the shape of the mountain kind of looks like a women lying down. The Incas placed a lot of importance on shapes and natural forms – they often worshipped stones and stars and trees and rivers, and the construction of their cities mirrored the natural constructions around them.

The world’s most disgusting toilet. There, I’ve called it.

I waited at the pass for Mike and Ginny to catch up. We took some photos of the incredible view through the valley, visited one of the most disgusting long drop toilets I’ve ever witnessed (and I’ve seen festival toilets, so you will understand the level of disgustingness I’m talking about here), and then tackled the downward track into camp. This is where Ginny and Mike pulled ahead, as I am slower on the downhill because of my lack of depth perception. That, and the Incan “staircase” is really just a pile of rocks arranged in a vaguelly steppish design. Even with hiking poles, navigating this path was a bit of a mission. Luckily, rainclouds coming over held off for the two hours it took for me to reach camp.

We ate our lunch and waited for my mum to show up. She had fallen back with Reubon, going at her own pace, which is exactly how you should tackle to mountain. As we were eating lunch, the rain rolled in in earnest, and I started to worry. Where was she? Was she OK out in the rain?

We played some cards and checked the time every ten minutes. Mike and Ginny were starting to get worried, too. We knew the porters were in radio contact with Reuban, so we were just trying to ask them in our terrible Spanish (well, Ginny had perfect Spanish, but she wanted Mike and I to try), to give us an update, when Mum and Reuben entered camp.

My poor mother was soaked through and her knee was a bit scraped up from where she had fallen over! I was so glad to see her! She was very proud of herself for making it over Dead Women’s Pass – it’s the toughest day of the trek, and she was over it! We ate warm food, played cards, and rejoiced.

That night, we camped on a platform 3800 metres above sea level. The mists and stormclouds rolled in and enveloped us, becoming the darkness. This place feels magical. I have never in my life been more cold.

Inca Trail: Day Three

At Runkurakay – the Oval Building.

Another day, another 6AM start. We hit the trail, heading uphill to the second high pass, Runkurakay (3,950 metres). This pass also includes another archaeological highlight – “the oval building”, which overlooks the valley and offers a view of travellers leaving and entering the area via the trail. It was probably an Inca tambo or lodge, which also served as a strategic vantage point for monitoring traffic on the highway. Food and other supplies were probably also stored there.

Further up the trail looking down over Runkurakay.

Once through the pass, we come across the fascinating ruins of Sayacmarca – the “inaccessible city.” Located on a spur joined to the main body of the mountain and only accessed by steep, treacherous steps winding along the edge of a sheer cliff, it is probably my favourite site on the entire trek. What kind of ex-archaeologist would I be if I didn’t clamber up possibly the most unsafe staircase on the entire trail to get a closer look?

But a small sample of the well-maintained staircase leading up to Sayacmarca – the Inaccessible City.

Basically, this is me, being about as happy as it’s ever possible to be.

Mists rose from the valley below, curling around me as I scrambled up the path on all fours, while my mother clung to the small platform below and fretted (as mothers are want to do).

From the Sayacmarca, I’m granted a sweeping view over the Aobamba valley below, the entire land carpeted with rare orchids and colourful lichen. The snow-covered peaks of the Pumasillo massif fill the horizon to the west, the shapes of these peaks echoed in the construction of the town, and in the giant sacred stone placed on a prominent altar in its centre. There is also an astronomical observatory, and ample space for living quarters and the storage of food and supplies. What is particularly interesting is that here in Sayacmarca, there are no houses for the nobility – everyone had the same level of comfort and construction.

The scenery becomes more lush as we continue downward, and then upward towards the third high pass at Phuyupatamarca (3,580 metres). It begins to rain heavily, and we all take out our trendy plastic ponchos. The path ahead becomes obscured in thick cloud, giving the whole mountain an ethereal gloom. The rain dies away just as I emerge on Phuyupatamarca pass.

Snapped this pic of one of our porters as he passed me on this staircase.

Looking down on the ruins of Phuyupatamarka from the 3rd pass.

The was one of my favouite spots on the whole trail. There was snow all around me as I rose out of the mists and moved across the pass. Up in the clouds, I could look out across the remarkable landscape. We scrambled up to a vantage point and ate the last of our snacks while gazing down upon the archaeological site of Phuyupatamarka or “town above the clouds.” Rising from the cloud forest, shrouded in mist, the site juts out over the side of a ravine looking down onto the Urubamba Valley and the terraces of Intipata and Wiñaywayna. As Maik and I are snapping pictures, an alcapa lopes across our view. “Now’s our chance to get the Incan trifecta,” Maik exclaims, lining up his shot. “Mountains, ruins, and an alpaca’s ass.”

Maik’s “Incan Trifecta.” 

Just chillin’ (and chilly) on the 3rd pass with these awesome people.

The site is surrounded by terraced fields and ceremonial sources of fresh water. In the lower section there stands circular constructions that seem to imitate the forms of the surrounding landscape. This is a site built for the nobility, as the homes are stately and of beautiful masonry.

From here we have a casual 5 kilometres downhill to reach the final campsite at Winay Wayna (2,650 metres). This section is pretty much entirely steps and took me a long, long time, and it was well past dark when I arrived at camp. My mum arrived some 45 minutes later, exhausted beyond belief.

The camp at Winay Wayna was a welcome sight and our porters greeted us with a beautiful hot meal. After dinner, they presented mum with a beautiful birthday cake they had baked. She was so touched that she cried. I may have cried a little, too. We thanked all our porters and all enjoyed cake and whisky together. It felt wonderful to be sharing this with my mum and all our new friends.

Inca Trail: Day four – we made it!

On the last morning we rose around 4AM to begin the final section of the trail to the famous ‘Sun Gate’ (Intipunku) and on to Machu Picchu. After a light breakfast we said a final goodbye to all our porters, and then lined up at the last checkpoint to wait to be let onto the trail.

The track doesn’t open until 5AM, but most people line up from 3AM so they can be first through. There’s still a couple of hours walking to reach Macchu Picchu (approx. 4kms). Many like to reach the sun gate around 6AM to watch the sun rise through the gate, but Mum wasn’t able to walk that fast, and I wanted to reach the gate with her more than I needed to see the sun rise, so I kept a slow pace and we did it together. This sectio is “Incan Flat” which is really not bloody flat at all.

Basically, the Incans are bastards.

Mum and Reuban tackling the stairs of doom.

WE DID IT!

Reaching the sun gate was incredible. At 2,745 metres above sea level, the Sun Gate is 345 metres higher than Machu Picchu. Looking through the gate across the valley to the famous site, as a single ray of sunlight peeked through the clouds and illuminated the ruins in dappled, golden light.

From the Sun Gate, we half-walked, half-stumbled the final 2 kilometres downhill to the entrance of Machu Picchu. Because it was now around 9AM, the site was already teaming with tourists who had bussed there from Cusco. They commented to us about our smell as we came down the hill, and we commented about their lack of committment. It was all good fun.

We did it. My mum did it. It took incredible courage for her to sign up for the trek, to put set out to do something she would never normally do, but here she is, at the end, standing in a place as a girl she thought only existed in books.

The trail is such a metaphor for anything you achieve in life. The reward at the end may be spectacular, but getting there is nothing special. It’s just one foot in front of the other, again and again and again. But when you’re the person who put all those steps together, it feels like something monumental. The achievement of actually getting there is even more spectacular than the ruins themselves.

Friends tell me they have a really hard time “connecting” with the ruins of a place and a people long since passed into myth. I am the opposite. I often have a much harder time connecting with modern landscapes, with places that are new and fresh and pristine, then with the remains of the past that reach out through the stones and the landscape to touch us here, now, in the present. As I walked through the Andes for four days, I became part of a great chain of people who had walked those same steps – many for a spiritual journey to visit the gods, some because it was on their bucket list, others because it was their job, and some, because they had nothing better to do that week.

The journey changes you. When you reach the end, you aren’t the same person as when you began. The change may be subtle, but it is there. The spirits of the Incan gods may be invisible, but they still watch the path. They still shake the mountains. They still touch your soul.

I am going to save talking about the Machu Picchu site itself for another blog post. The site is amazing in and of itself, and my hands are already quite tired from all the typing.

Steff’s tips for hiking the Inca Trail trek

Choose a guide / company you trust. I’d already been with  Tucan Travel on my trip through the middle east. They are South American experts with over 25 years of experience. I like that they use local guides wherever possible, and focus on budget, sustainable travel with an awareness of both the positive and negative impacts of tourism on indigenous people and natural environments. I did not regret my decision. Reuban was a wonderful guide and made the trip an absolute joy.
Set your own pace. When hiking long distances, it’s important you’ve able to go at the pace you feel most comfortable. I think this is more important than staying super close to your group, especially on a well-marked path like the Inca Trail. If you go too fast, you wear yourself out and might not be able to make the full journey. If you go too slow, you risk getting cold and sick while waiting for other members or the party, as well as not enjoying yourself as much. I prefer to be able to move as I want to move and then wait for othes in the group at lunch and snack stops.
Take hiking poles. These things are magical. They help save your knees and if you’re like me and have no depth perception, they act as a second set of eyes on the steps.
Stick to the left. Porters need to be able to get past you so they can keep up their pace. This is difficult if they have to constantly slow down to go around tourists. Stick left – left is also furthest from the edge of the track, which slips down into misty valleys hundreds of metres below. So you know, it’s safer, too.
Bring metal drink bottles. These things are hardy as fuck. AND you can get your porter to boil water for you before bed, then fill up your metal bottle and stick in your sleeping bag. Voila, instant hot water bottle!
Thank your porters. These guys are amazing. The work they do is just incredible. We shared our bottle of whisky with them (they liked that :)), and did our best to talk to them and ask about their lives (they won’t speak English, and only some may know Spanish. Mostly they will speak Quechua. Carry cash so you can tip your porters on the last night. Even if you don’t approve of tipping as a custom, these guys deserve it!
Follow all good hiking advice. You know, all the tips you hear about any kind of hike: wearring your shoes in first, keeping a pair of dry socks, packing lots of sleeping bags … follow them all.
Arrange time on your trip to get used to altitude. Most people hike the Inca trail after coming from Lima and then move south. This means that arriving in Cusco is usually their first taste of altitude, and then hitting the trail shortly after. We did it the opposite way, arriving in La Paz (which is actually higher than the highest point on the trail). This meant by the time we arrived we were well used to the altitude and what it does, and I think this helped all of us survive the trek. Also, visit your doctor beforehand and get the altitude tablets. Anything that can help is highly recommended.
At some point it will rain. And it will probably rain a lot. Bring waterproof gear and one of those hideous ponchos you think you will never want to wear but you will most definitely wear. You will look dorky, but you will not be damp.

You can find a ton of info about the Inca Trail – including a packing list and advice about when to go – on the Tucan Travel website. 

I enjoyed the Inca Trail so much I decided when I got back to New Zealand I’d make a real effort to experience some of our great hikes. New Zealand has some of the best natural landscapes in the world, and I should go enjoy them. So this year I’m hiking the Routeburn track with some awesome friends and some slightly more expensive whisky.

Have you ever hiked the Inca Trail or another multi-day hike? What are you tips? What were your impressions while en-route?

When I’m not hiking with Incans or adventuring around the world, I write science fiction and paranormal romance novels. If you want the details first when new books come out, then sign up for my newsletter (you get a couple of free books, too!). Or, better yet, become a Patreon backer and get all the behind-the-scenes info, more free books, bonus material, and my eternal gratitude.

 

My new novel, REAPER, is now available on Amazon!

In January, I declared an ambitious plan – to publish 8 books in 2016. Behind, only a week behind schedule, book 4 of my goal. Reaper is the sequel to Watcher, which came out last month, and follows Belinda’s and Cole’s story as they try to find each other across a huge distance … both physical, and emotional.

Vail has outdone herself with the cover. I’m especially stoked because the heroine, Belinda, is of Chinese descent and it’s so damn hard to find non-white cover models. But behold!

Can love truly set you free?

Kidnapped by Cole’s cruel master, Victor Morchard, Belinda is being held hostage in the crumbling Morchard castle. Here she discovers just how deep his hatred for Cole burns, and that his experiments on birds have are more sinister and deadly than anyone could guess.

Meanwhile – with the help of Belinda’s friends – Cole devises a plan to rescue Belinda. But when the rescue attempt turns deadly and they are pursued by a flock of deadly ravens, Cole realises that he now has even bigger problems to deal with. His master has infected his birds with a powerful virus that could threaten the lives of everyone he loves. And those birds have Belinda in their sights.

Can Cole find a way to destroy the virus before Belinda becomes its next victim?

Reaper is a full-length paranormal romance novel by USA Today bestselling author Steffanie Holmes. It is the final book in the Crookshollow ravens series and concludes the story begun in Watcher.

Grab your copy of Reaper on Amazon kindle for only $2.99, or FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

These books are set in my fictional English village of Crookshollow. You can find all the Crookshollow titles, plus my other paranormal romance novels, on my Amazon author page.

A little FAQ on the Watcher/Reaper books.

Will these books be out in print?

Yes, but I can’t tell you exactly when. Sometime in 2016.

Will there be more books in the Crookshollow world?

Absolutely! There will be one standalone novel (starring Bianca) in 2017, and I’m hoping to do a short novella about Kylie and Marcus for a little Christmas treat. After that, I’m not sure. I have a lot more story ideas for Crookshollow, but I think I’d like to write in another world for a little while before coming back to it.

Why do you write cliffhangers?

Honestly, because they’re fun. I love reading them, and I enjoy writing them. In saying that, I know cliffhanger endings can be frustrating to readers, so for the next series I write, I’ll be doing all connected standalones – not a cliffhanger in sight.

Are Watcher and Reaper available on Kobo? Nook? iTunes? By carrier pigeon? In German? In Morse code?

I wish! Unfortunately, I have an exclusivity deal with Amazon, which means I cannot offer the books for sale in other formats. If you read on another device, then email me on hello@steffanieholmes.com and I’ll hook you up with a file you can use.

Thank you so much for your support, and I hope you enjoy Reaper!

If you want the details first when new books come out, then sign up for my newsletter (you get a couple of free books, too!). Or, better yet, become a Patreon backer and get all the behind-the-scenes info, more free books, bonus material, and my eternal gratitude.

post-scriptum: Death of all things, Vietnamese, and shenanigans

This week has been pretty damn awesome. Two of my oldest friends were in Auckland for the weekend – one of them, Linley, all the way from Oregon! Linley, Shane (3rd and 4th from left in pic) have known each other since high school days. We spent our days eating delicious food (I’ve never had Vietnamese before. DAYUM is it good), catching up on everything we’d missed, laughing a ton, partying with friends old and new, planting potatoes, eating some more (mmmm, roast lamb) and generally getting into mischief. It’s awesome to go months or years without seeing someone and then, when they land in town, for things to feel as though they never left.

This pic is taken by the resident photographer at Ding Dong Lounge, this hopeless rock/metal bar in Auckland we occasionally frequent (some of us more than others). I say hopeless because you’re more likely to end up listening to a night of emo and nu metal than any legit rock’n’roll, but the people who hang there are pretty rad, so that (nearly) makes up for it.

In my ears: The new Beastwars album, The Death of All Things. Holy shit. Put down whatever you’re doing and GO LISTEN TO IT NOW. How these guys aren’t yet selling out the main stages of festivals across the world I don’t know.

Reading: My neighbour gave us a couple of big boxes of books. Inside were some real gems, including Casual Vacancy, the book J K Rowling wrote after she finished the Harry Potter series. I’m about halfway through, and I LOVE it. She headhops between characters, which I find a little distracting, but I’m seeing why she’s very deliberately chosen to do that. It’s … wow. It’s a pretty good book.

Writing: Argh, I’m hopping around between projects so much at the moment. I’m waiting for Reaper to come back from my editor, and working on an urban fantasy book, the third Witches book, a re-release of my gothic wedding planner book, and a couple of other things. For more details about my writing, hop over to my Patreon page!

On the farm: THE EXTERIOR OF OUR HOUSE IS FINISHED. This is a huge milestone. The place is now (mostly) watertight. It’s taken every cent we have to get this far, but we’re pretty stoked with the result. Now to get saving so I can afford some indoor plumbing!

Also, my recalcitrant chickens have started laying again. I’ve had three eggs this week. Here’s hoping they stay on it, I’d rather have layers than layabouts.

Loving: New package arrived from Black Milk Clothing – Invocation Midi skirt and some Ouija-board leggings. I am not remotely obsessed. AT ALL \m/ My husband – he’s pretty awesome \m/ VIETNAMESE FOOD. Give me all the noms. \m/ feeling mad good about my low/no-sugar conversion (more about this next week). I can’t believe how much energy I have and how good I feel \m/ cheating on my sugar free diet at the Chocolate Boutique. \m/ Star Trek Voyager – we are on the last season now and I am obsessed. Love all the characters so much, I hope some of them make an appearance in the new series being developed \m/ The fact that the new Gilmore Girls series will be out late this year, and I think new Sherlock as well \m/ Discovering gin, soda water, and lemon – a good sugar free alternative drink so I don’t have to always drink Scotch. \m/ Plotting menus for another epic dinner party. When will I ever learn? \m/ interesting discussions at work \m/ Seeing my family again, even if it was for a very sad reason (my Granddad’s funeral). \m/ Making tough decisions about the future.

So that’s my week, what about yours?

I’ve got new books coming out soon! If you want the details, then sign up for my newsletter (you get a couple of free books, too!). Or, better yet, become a Patreon backerand get all the behind-the-scenes info, more free books, bonus material, and my eternal gratitude.

This one time, I cooked a medieval banquet for 30 people

… and it was brilliant.

My husband turned 40 this year. He was adamant he wanted to celebrate it in our new house, on our own land. Unfortunately, our house wasn’t completely finished, but we figured if we did something epic enough, maybe our friends wouldn’t notice the place had no GIB or indoor plumbing.

Do you know who else had no GIB or indoor plumbing? Medieval lords, that’s who. An idea was born. Why not host an epic dinner party, the most epic dinner party we’d ever attempted or will attempt in the future? And, while we’re at it, lets give it a medieval theme and model the food off what might’ve been on the menu back in 1299.

Luckily, a year ago I’d put down a batch of mead for just this occasion. A plan was made, a menu formulated, a guest list agreed upon (after much to and fro – the original list had 43 people on it, which is well beyond the capabilities of my tiny oven. It was hell narrowing it down) and invites sent out. We procured two medieval-inspired wooden dining tables, and cleaned all the building debris out of our not-quite-complete great hall.

The medieval banquet table setting. Aren’t the runners gorgeous?

About a week before the party, I started cooking. I cooked pretty much everything except for the main course meat and vegetables in advance, then heated it up for the party. I made and froze three different tarts, two soups, a stew (which doubled as a stew and – with the addition of several mushrooms – a pie filling), two pies (the pork pie had a pulled pork filling, which involved slow-roasting a shoulder joint for 5 hours before making the filling. I was super proud of this recipe as I completely invented it and it turned out delish!) On the last night I poached pears, made a vegan mushroom stew and spiced pumpkins, whipped whisky cream, and drank a bottle of chef juice (aka, red wine) to ensure my sanity.

We also made 26L of elderflower cider to go with the mead we already had. My husband scrubbed down the whole house and packed away every tool, nail, and plank in the hall. We set the tables with all our goblets, glasses, tankards and candles, and palm leaf plates, which are decomposing in my compost bin as I write this. My wonderful friend Amy (of Northwic: couture clothing boutique fame) came over on the big day to help, and brought with her the amazing table runners she’d made. If you need anything clothing or fabric related, this is the lass to call.

I literally had a schedule of times and courses stuck to the fridge, so I could remember what to heat up when. It was nuts!

The star of the dinner was the four-bird roast. A guinea fowl, stuffed inside a pheasant, stuffed inside a chicken, wrapped in a turkey. I followed the basic procedure outlined in this Food Labs turducken recipe, poaching the inner birds to ensure thorough cooking. We ended up with a bird that was cooked through and displayed beautiful layers of meat, although it was a little dry (I think this mainly came from cautious over-cooking, would not cook for as long next time, if there ever is a next time). I also completely forgot to make gravy on the night, but everyone was too stuffed full from previous courses to care too much!

(The birds for the roast came from the Grey Lynn Butchery, who were amazing and dealt with the ten phone calls I made checking all the details with great patience. I highly recommend them if you need any game or specialised meat.)

Carving the 4-bird roast.

Look at those layers! This is the pinnacle of my culinary achievements.

Here’s the full menu. Everything with a v next to it is vegan, as we had two of those in attendance.

FIRST REMOVE

Creamy pumpkin soup with exotic spices (v)

Peasent’s Pottage – a traditional medieval soup (v)

Served with a selection of country loaves (v)

SECOND REMOVE

Medieval trenchers – traditional bread platters served with stews of beef or mushroom (v)

Beef, mushroom and guiness pie

Slow-roasted smoky pork, apple, and cider pie

Fresh herb salad (V)

THIRD REMOVE

The Four Bird – Whole roasted turkey, chicken, pheasant, and guinea fowl cooked one inside the other, with a mushroom, walnut and pork stuffing.

Rosemary roasted lamb leg, from our own flock. Served with red-wine gravy.

A selection of roasted vegetables (v)

Spiced pumpkin and cream (v)

Fresh carrots and cauliflower (v)

FORTH REMOVE

Poached pears in a red-wine and blueberry sauce (v)

A selection of fruit tarts, including pear, blueberry, apple, almond

Served with ice cream and fresh cream

Cake (or death)

IN THE TANKARD

Steff’s Meadosaurus Mead

Elderflower cider (v)

Various beers and bubbles (v)

Our friend Tarah made this amazing dinosaur cake! I love the use of Hersheys Kisses as spines.

 

As I mentioned, I forgot the gravy, and we brought a bunch of wholemeal, seedy buns we were going to hollow out and fill with the stews for the second remove, to make trenchers. But it couldn’t be done in advance, as the bread would go stale, and when it came time for the party I ran out of fucks to give. So that didn’t happen. No one complained … at least not to my face :)

On a night of howling wind and driving rain, our wonderful friends arrived. We lit the fire, handed out drinks, and all was well inside the hall. Some arrived in medieval costume, carrying their own drinking horns or tankards. Our friend Courtney even showed up in his unicorn onesie.

My oven was WAY too small to handle the sheer volume of food, so we did a lot of the heating up on the stovetop of our new fireplace (his name is Arthur).

We set up a buffet for each course. This is the Third Reserve.

As the night went on and more mead was consumed, the meal descended into chaos. But we had a few surprises still in store for CDH. My friend Shane and I composed a homoerotic … er, Homeric epic for him starring some of our friends. Everyone chipped in money to buy him an amazing gift – an i-Project turntable and a couple of metal vinyl. My usually opinionated husband got very quiet as the evening wore on, he was so touched by the whole thing.

Shane and I performing our Homeric epic. I’d post it here but a lot of the humour is in-jokes from our friends, so it probably wouldn’t make a lot of sense.

Even our two cats, Socrates and Eleanor, stuck around for the festivities.

I told everyone it was A-OK to instagram and snapchat all the food like hipsters .. so they took me at my word.

We had about ten people sleep over, and I cooked a big breakfast in the morning. Then this gorgeous lot picked up all the bottles and did all the dishes. What awesome friends!

It was so amazing to be able to pull off something crazy like this with a group of people who totally got into it. Much love goes out to everyone who came, to those who helped out, to my husband – who had the crazy idea in the first place and helped make it a reality. I am so so so grateful to our wonderful family of bogans for all the years of friendship – without them, we never, ever would’ve dreamed of doing this. I only wish I had the skill to make it twice the size so we could have more of ya.

The only problem now is what to do for next year’s birthday to top this …

I’ve got new books coming out soon! If you want the details, then sign up for my newsletter (you get a couple of free books, too!). Or, better yet, become a Patreon backer and get all the behind-the-scenes info, more free books, bonus material, and my eternal gratitude.

I would rather be ashes than dust: Eulogy for my grandfather

Granddad and Nana on their wedding day.

Death has a habit of creeping up on us when we’re least prepared for it. Both our own demise, and the death of those we love.

Last week I flew back down to my hometown to attend the funeral of my grandfather – Granddad Neville, as we knew him. He was my father’s father, and had been a pretty prominent fixture in my life, especially when I was a child. It never really occurred to me he could be gone … until he was. He’d been sick for some time, and his wish was not to linger. He received the death he wanted – peaceful and quick. The good death that becomes important as you realise how close it looms.

As far as funerals go, his was wonderful. More than 200 family members and friends gathered to honour his life. Afterward, we had a wake at my parents house, where we cracked open some of granddad’s booze and toasted him with stories and memories.

Listening to the eulogies given by the other speakers, and to all the conversations at the wake afterward, I realised how much I owed to this man, even though I knew him as a grubby-faced kid could know her kind, boisterous granddad. Everyone talked about Granddad’s work ethic; he did a lot of different jobs in his lifetime, but every one of them he attacked with tenacity and pride. All my uncles (his sons) have this same work ethic, and it’s the same attitude I share,. Granddad was careful with money, and his instructions regarding the funeral were that it be simple and cheap, because he didn’t save all his money to spend on “an expensive bloody coffin.” He was prone to disasters, and had several near misses on his life (this I can definitely relate to!) He loved the outdoors, and especially the beach. The best job he ever had was managing the campground at Aramoana beach, where my family would stay every summer and visit many weekends. It was an incredible place to grow up and I have so many wonderful and hilarious memories from that time.

I was asked to say a eulogy on behalf of the grandchildren. I was pretty nervous doing it, as I’d never spoken a eulogy before, and I tend to get pretty emotional at these kinds of things (ask me about the time I was performing a wedding for two close friends and the groom was crying so I started crying) and I was afraid I’d be too much of a wreck to speak. But I did it, without crying (much) and I’m so glad I did. It was an honour to do this small thing for my Granddad, to say thanks to him in my own way for everything he’d given me.

I try not to talk too much about my family on my blog, because I believe they should have some privacy, a shield between my public life and my private. But I thought I’d share this because … well, because we’ve all lost someone we cared about. And even though my granddad never did anything truly wild or miraculous and his name wasn’t in lights, he was kind, and generous, and wonderful, and he deserves to be remembered.

Eulogy for my grandfather

I would rather be ashes than dust!

I would rather that my spark should burn out

in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot.

I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom

of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.

The function of man is to live, not to exist.

I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them.

I shall use my time.

This credo, written by the author Jack London, has been running through my mind ever since I heard the news about the death of my grandfather, Neville. We’re gathered here today, to commit Neville’s ashes to the earth. They are the ashes of a man who truly lived, who used his time for the things he enjoyed most: for hunting and fishing, for being by the water and on the land, for friends and good times, and – most of all – for family.

For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Stephanie Green. I’m a writer by trade, which is probably why I was roped in to writing the eulogy on behalf of Neville’s grandchildren, and I’m also the daughter of G, and granddaughter of Neville. Which makes me one of the luckiest granddaughters in the world.

My memories of Granddad are intrinsically tied up with my childhood. Neville was a fixture in our lives. We visited him frequently, and spent whole summers with him when he managed the Aromoana campground. His house at the beach had an attached shop and a cupboard filled with candy, which to a kid is basically the same as being related to an astronaut.

Granddad would let us kids help him make up the 50c lolly mixes, back when 50c bought you a small bag of treasures instead of two minutes of parking time. He’d set out twenty saucers on the table, and we’d divide out the lollies evenly between them. He’d then place a plate for us to pile up our favourites for our own private stash. Only, instead of a saucer, ours was a dinner plate. Like I said, luckiest granddaughter alive.

Granddad allowed the ice cream trucks access to the campground, only if his grandkids were allowed free ice creams. We used to rip pieces of a rainbow bar box off and take them to the truck to exchange for our treats … any ice cream we wanted. And boy did we take advantage of this loophole – double cones, chocolate-dipped, covered in sherbert, five chocolate flakes, and one severe stomach ache later … luckiest grandchildren alive.

We would visit Neville at his house in Waipawa, as well. I remember my sister and I inventing elaborate games which always involved us chasing his chickens around the garden. Every time we came down the driveway those poor chickens cowered in terror, and after we left they went off the lay for three days. Poor Granddad missed out on all those eggs, but he never complained, he just liked seeing us having fun.

My family was visiting Nana and Granddad when a particularly nasty earthquake rocked the house. We cowered under the kitchen door and watched as every glass and cup toppled from the shelves and broke on the floor. Afterward, as we were sitting shaken in the living room, Neville poured himself something alcoholic into a flowery mug – the only drinking vessel left unbroken – and annoucned that we weren’t to worry, because he certianly wasn’t.

Granddad was always smiling, always happy to see us, always indulging our games and asking us about school and hobbies. But growing up, I never asked Granddad much about his life. My questions were more akin to, “Granddad, can I have another free ice cream?” and “Granddad, can Belinda and I put a dress on your dog?” I knew very little about the life of this man who was such a figure in my own.

At high school, I was given an assignment to write my family history back to my great gandparents. I had to interview the surviving members of my family and write about their lives. So off I went with my Snoopy tape recorder to interview Granddad.

He talked a lot about his childhood. His father was a keen hunter and was always bringing home some new catch. Neville said he and his siblings used to get pissed off because he’d bring home a whole deer and then they’d eat deer twice a day for the next week. He was also a grand axeman, who would chop at the show. “He won a lot of money,” Neville said, “but still managed to be broke all the time.”

Neville attended Waipawa Primary School, and then Waipawa High School. He said, “I left before they could kick me out.”, and he then started work for the Co-Op in Waipawa, then became an apprentice baker.

I learned Granddad worked on the construction of the Waipawa bridge. He showed me the wheelbarrow he still kept as a souvenir. He then worked on the Rices bridge in Hatuma, and then went to Johnsonville to build the leading and flyover bridges over the highway.

He married Pauline,  and they had six sons. Growing up on the farm there was no TV and little money, so the boys spent their days chopping down trees, eeling, damming creeks, blowing stuff up, killing defenceless animals … the usual kind of stuff.

After I wrote up my report, I wanted a quote to put at the beginning of my report, something profound to encapsulate our family, like the latin motto on a prominent crest. I asked Granddad to give me one. He thought for a moment, and then said. “I have a quote for you. ‘I have never met a Green who had any money. And if I did, I’d ask him for a loan.’”

Granddad was not an overly emotional man. His signs of love came in simple, if not overt, gestures. A wink; a hand-squeeze; a smile. His spark may have burned out, but his fire will live forever in our memories. Should you find yourself missing his affable humour, his stoic nature, his gentle love, then I think you have only to look to your neighbour, your siblings, your children … to anyone in this room who he has touched, and you will find him. Rest peacefully, Granddad.

Thank you.