I'm a FABULOUS writer!

It's true, I am. If you don't believe me just check out my post on the Samhain Publishing weblog.

Author signing - 1st September 2007

Hurray! We have a date. My book launch/author signing will be at 11am on Saturday 1st September! Though I expect I'll be at Leisure Readers all day. The address is 8 Edgeworth David Ave, Hornsby 2077.

And look out for me in the Bush Tele as well.

Back from the Conference

Oh it was SO good, I met so many wonderful people and listened to amazing speakers and found out that I am a fabulous writer and spent rather a lot on books and won a raffle (more books) and ate lots and lots of really yummy stuff and gossipped with everyone about everything and compared notes on every subject under the sun and met all these amazing people and it was just great.

Of course I wanted to email all the people that I met, but was too over-excited about it all to remember anyone's names. Can remember key things about them, eg, has TB, had near death experience (cold grey tunnel, fought to come back and did - yes, I got goosebumps too), but no names. Anyone who I met and wants too say hi, pleeeese email me and excuse my sieve like brain.

Oh oh and people bought Running Scared and they wanted signatures, and other people saw me giving signatures like a real author and everyfink...

Still shattered though, and spent entire day cleaning house after three days of mayhem, and only half way there...

sigh!

Turbans are back in...

Have been reading shop-till-you-drop magazine. Turbans are back in.

Were they ever out? I hear you ask.

Apparently yes - which'll be news to the housemistress at the boarding school I attended (to be straightened out as an unruly teenager - didn't work). She loved a turban. Bliss her surname was. Bliss. Unsurprisingly she wasn't.

Now I'm not one for the fashion mags, I much prefer the salacious gossip ones. Pictures of stick thin models wearing clothes I could never afford, let alone squeeze my ample buttocks into... okay, okay, too much information... Lets just say that I won't be using my $10 voucher for a mettalic shift dress from some cutsy boutique located in Paddington. I'd much rather be pouring over the trials and tribs of Britters, oh how I'd love to shave my head and attack a car with an umbrella (was it? well an implement of some sort). Not to mention that Lindsey Lohan, shocking. Dr Phil has volunteered to sort HER out, excellent, that'll do marvels for his ratings!

Hmm...

Am about to launch into New Woman Magazine, soon I'll know all about Fish Pedicures (do fish have nails I wonder), and The anti-aging jam (pleeese be raspberry, pleeeese.)

Going to the conference...

Eeeeeeee, just two more sleeps until everyone rocks up to the Sheraton and we commence the Romance Writers of Australia conference.

Am rather excited, and no not just because I get to have a weekend off the kids.

Can't decided what I'm looking forward to most, I think probably meeting everyone, particularly new e-friends and other Samhain authors, but just being there is going to be such fun as well. Cannot wait to meet Jennifer Crusie, she had an awesome post up on her blog just lately, about how her life was pottering along in one direction, and quite suddenly has taken off in another. I can so relate to that.

We writers are a bit of an odd bunch, I think probably because we spend a lot of time thinking about things, it makes us (okay me), prone to saying strange things. Sometimes its nice to hang out with a bunch of people who just understand. I know they all understand me. They all met me last year, even though I was surviving on no sleep and partying on at 10pm after a 3.30am start. (Believe me, I was getting to the point where I was doing Apu from the Simpsons impressions). You've all read my overtired blogposts - you know how bad I can be!

Bring back Big Brother

Waaaah! I miss Big Brother, its 7pm and there is NOTHING on the telly. I'm currently watching the ABC News and it is causing me to shout at the television. I hate people who shout at the television. I never ever shout at the telly. But, the news is blaming today's interest rate rise for some poor soul closing down their CD business. Kerist almighty.

I just want to know how Aleshia and Zac are doing, and Joel. Joel never did anything and if he was supposed to be a comedian he wasn't a very good one, but I still miss him.

Aaaah, yup.

I need to get a life.

Running Scared - in stock at Amazon

Running Scared is in stock at Amazon. For some reason it is telling people with pre-orders that it won't be shipped until early October. If that's you, cancel the order and do another one. You should have it by the end of August!

Hurray!

Yes, and if you could just patronise me a little more...

According to SMH speeding in a car is an accident risk for men, but for women, having 'emotional' conversations on the phone whilst driving is more of a problem.

Dr Irwin said the research highlighted the need to remind women of the dangers of talking on mobile phones - even with hands-free sets - while driving. "[And] don't break up with your boyfriend while you are driving."

Words fail me.

Breastfeeders Anonymous

My mate Rach! has written a book on breastfeeding. She's having a launch party and doing lots of blogging over at http://breastfeedersanonymous.blogspot.com/.

Stop by and post a comment and you might even win a copy.

Commute from Hell

Potty training has commenced in the Nicholas household. So far the much anticipated event has gone relatively smoothly, with the odd accident here and there but no real dramas. However, we've been sticking pretty close to home and trips out have been taken at times when the traffic hasn't been too bad.

Until this morning. It all began to go wrong around six, everyone slept in, bags weren't ready and so we bundled out of the house, twenty minutes late, and with the essential, unforgettable question unasked. "Do you need to go to the toilet?"

Sigh.

We hit the very middle of peak hour. And it was a bad peak hour, millions of cars all going along very very slowly. So, there we are, languishing in a traffic jam when a little voice pipes up, "toilet please..."

Aaaagh.

So I give up my precious spot in the queue, dive into a side street, drag child out of car, point to bush and let nature take its course. Only it doesn't. Not a drip or a drop. False alarm, or possibly performance anxiety.

We pile back into the car, and join endless traffic again, only ten minutes behind where we were before. I am not convinced that all is well in the back seat and keep a nervous banter going hoping to distract child. Then, on a six lane main road, trying to turn right at traffic lights and blocked to the left by a truck and three more lanes of traffic the little voice pipes up again... "Mummy, toilet please..."

Oh My God.

We sat there, through three changes of the lights, then the next five sets of lights were red and one set was even blacked out (charged through it, sometimes largeness of car is good for something and it was an emergency). Sweating blood, stressing out, driving like a maniac and at the same time keeping up cheerful chatter to distract small thoughts from straining bladder. Arrive at day care, drag two children and five bags out of car into childcare centre, throw all through door, grab small, about to burst person, tear off clothes (hers) and with a sigh of relief place upon toilet.

Nothing.

Not a drip, not a drop.

"Mummy, you dropped all the bags on the floor," she lectures me.

Sigh.

World War Three

World War Three is still going on at my house. GOD. I just can't believe how difficult this mother thing can be. Take today for instance. Its just been exasperated me and crabby shouty small people.

Even before the end of Playschool it was falling apart, why oh why do my children have to inhabit the same fifty centimetres of space, and why do they have to scream at each other all the time?

So, I bundle everybody into the car and whisk them off to the local cafe to bribe them into good behaviour with babycino's and cake with sprinkles. It worked beautifully, hurrah! I mean the cafe was fairly trashed when we left, and I bumped into people I knew with unwashed hair, tracksuit pants, sneakers, and t-shirt covered in various substances including porridge, playdough, drool etc... etc... but we had peace and harmony for half an hour. Then I pushed my luck.

Went to the supermarket.

Yes.

I should've known better.

They managed to fight about who sat where in the trolley for the full ten minutes it took me to get milk, cheese and an avocado. Then, I'm waiting whilst the checkout chick puts stuff in my bag, and with a glance at me she tosses my avocado into the bag with a dull splat. I'd had enough. Spat the dummy.

"LOOK what you have done to my avocado." I snarl, fishing it out of the bag.

"Aw, get another one then," she snarls back.

"Well you look after the children then," I say, storming off in the direction of the Avocado aisle.

She doesn't of course. They're heading for the carpark with the trolley by the time I return and I have to shriek at them to stop.

This of course when I recognise the mum at the next checkout.

sigh.

Where, oh where is Running Scared?

Where, oh where is Running Scared? Nobody knows. Not the publisher, the distributors, the book shop owners, nobody. I've got my author copies now, so I'm reasonably convinced that it does actually exist. But, today I had an email, can't get any copies for the RWA Conference.

Sigh.

The gals tried everything to get copies for my party, but they were being told as late as September/October. Amazon is now telling people it'll ship in 4 to 6 weeks. Its a bit frustrating as I still can't schedule my author signing day, and everyone is so keen to read it.

Thank You

It has taken me a long time to write this post. There have been many attempts each worse than the last. But I felt it was important to write this before I went on and wrote anything else, in case the people concerned worry that I've overlooked them.

They had a party you see, for me. For months and months completely without my knowledge and in cahoots with hubby they plotted and planned a surprise party to celebrate the release of Running Scared.

Margo, Alison, Jackie, Ann, Diana, Megan, Linda, Jill, Naomi and Lyndel, words cannot express how touched and appreciative I am of your support, interest and enthusiasm for my writing, and also everything else that goes on in my hurly burly life. All of you are my soft place to land when life, children and the rest becomes overwhelming. I consider myself so fortunate to have so many spectacular women, with such a depth of experience and compassion, who I am able to call friend.

There, now that doesn't read too badly! I wanted to make sure people understood how touched I am (and I mean touched as in appreciative, not touched in the head!), but other attempts, dear oh deary me. They all ended up sounding like I have no friends, nobody likes me, my parents hate me, or what few friends I have don't like me... It just didn't come together. But now it has!

Slowly running out of patience...

Presently locked in battle of wills with small screamy person. Alas it appears she is winning. So, to distract self from enraged howls am blogging.

Sigh.

I'm sick (sore throat again), Beanie baby is sick (temperature) and Bugalugs is at that horrible stage when she's been sick, is now feeling a bit better and is inflicting her crabby temper on the rest of the household.

I'd have laughed bk (before kids) if you'd told me that babies could swear at you in gobbledegook, but they can. Miss Bugalugs is quite the expert. Right now she's in her cot turning the air blue with expletives, all aimed at her cruel mother who is merely trying to get a pair of trousers on her so that she doesn't freeze. She, apparently doesn't see things quite this way. I am, in fact, inflicting on her that bane of society, clothes, and in the process having no respect for her wishes or in fact her identity as an individual.

Yes, I am a bad, bad mother.

SIGH.

They're here! They're here!

Finally I have the evidence that I've actually managed to write a book. My author copies arrived today! They're very beautiful. I've already got to send half of them out to various competition winners, and have to say that today, am feeling a wee bit churlish about letting any of my babies out of my sight! Normally I love to give stuff away, but I've got the feeling its going to take me a couple of days.

Hubby is thrilled as well, and has read the dedication to all of those he has spoken to on the phone since he got home - sorry about that...

This is what it says:

With thanks to Nic. For your unwavering support, for the little sacrifices you make every day and for all those cups of tea.

Am rather chuffed with self!

Guest Blogging at Samhain

I'm guest blogging over at the Samhain website today.

Read the full story of how Running Scared came into being at http://samhainpublishing.com/blog/

Why, oh why, oh why...

Sometimes I read back over the contents of this blog and wonder why, oh why did I write that! Most of the time I don't, but take last Tuesdays post, Fang You Berry Much. Why did I call it that? I don't know. I really truely don't. I often blog when I'm tired, very very tired, so that may be a reason. I suffer a lot from 'it seemed to be a good idea at the time.'

Bit like the photo!

And no it isn't Hubby - despite what he's telling people.

sigh.

Running Scared launch

Its been a busy week. The launch of Running Scared was something of an anti-climax, I'm not sure what I was expecting, but a pathetic note from Amazon to my parents telling them that the book release had been delayed was about the highlight. In actual fact Amazon are just slow to get the books in. It always takes a month or so after the release date for the book to make it from the printer to the shop shelves.

I suppose releasing a book is a bit like having a baby, to you its a wonderful, miraculous occurance that changes your life, but to everyone else its a bit of an every day thing.

The Newsletter

Of course my first newsletter went around on the 17th. Am amazed at the great response to it! I did my prize draw, and am just waiting on my author copies of Running Scared to arrive before I post them off. I got a note from a courier company saying they'd tried to deliver a package whilst I was at work and now am beside myself with curiosity. Was it my books? Or was is just something really boring - like a computer part that Hubby has ordered and forgotten about. Have to wait until next week to find out now.

Dammit.

Guest Blogging and Diplomat's Bidding

Aside from that there's been a swathe of guest blogging going on, I'll let you know when I go up and where, and I've finished Diplomat's Bidding. Once and for all, edits done, no more time spent on it. Shall now just have to wait and see how my pitch goes at the Conference in August. Mum and Hubby have been giving it a proof read for me and so far they like it. I am rather proud of it, but still not sure I've hit the right Mills and Boon note. Well. We shall see.

That photo isn't hubby either. Its Andrew McCubbin, my Diplomat's Bidding hero.