Spin the Bottle - Launch Party for Brigid's 'The Last Kiss'

IT HAS FINALLY HAPPENED!! It is the publication day of my first short story from The Kiss Collection, 'The Last Kiss'.

As is traditional here at the Heroine Addicts we are holding a party. The bunting has been hung, the champagne is on ice and we have plates of nibbles. 

As my short stories are all kiss themed, I have decided we're going to have a massive game of SPIN THE BOTTLE!!

Oh yes, people. This is going to get smoochy.

It was tough to decide who to bring to the party - I've let all my fellow heroine addicts invite people, I've brought along a few extra.

So currently we are sitting in a large circle. I've had to stop Julie from pre-empting the spin the bottle party and Christina had to be untangled from someone else's long hair!

I've also put some cushions in the closet for our later game of seven minutes in heaven...

Now let me just get this going *Julie nicks the bottle and starts spinning the bottle*

Or not...

Ahhh so the bottle is pointing at this lovely gentleman.

Ben Wishaw - lucky Julie!

I never knew Julie could crawl that fast. Oh, she's now sitting in his lap and smooching. And... ok I don't think we need to see this. Down, girl!

Sorry about that, had to peel her off him.

OK now my... *Anna snatches the bottle and starts to spin it* turn? Bugger.

Ahhh the bottle is slowing down, wobbling between two of our fine guests...

Thor! - Anna's in Valhalla

Anna, shouting "Get in there!" and launching yourself at poor Chris Helmsworth is quite scary. Oh that is really not something I need to see. Can someone get her back here? Thanks, Ben.

Right, people this is my party and I'm going to... *Susanna sweeps in and spins the bottle* FINE! You go.

That is a very professionally spun bottle, I think Susanna has done this before. Ooo now that is a fine figure of a man.

Max Martini - He's got Susanna shaken AND stirred

Man, Susanna pretty much tackled him. He's down but looking at that lip action he isn't out. Erm... Susanna, it isn'y seven minutes in heaven yet. Susanna! You lot are no use. Back in your place, young lady.

Good.

Now... LIZ! PUT DOWN THAT BOTTLE! DON'T YOU... *bottle is a blur from Liz's enthusiastic spin* This was my party! Fine. Whatever.

Benedict is only Liz's for the night (so generous)

Liz be gentle with him... he's only on loan. Don't wear those lips out. And no touching... I don't care that you are an award winner. PUT HIM DOWN!

OK at long last *cracks knuckles* If someone could pass me the bottle? No! Not to Christina! *bottle spins sleekly* I hate you all.

Captain Hook has his hook in Christina

Looks like Christina's caught herself a pirate... I never knew Captain Hook could be that good looking but Colin O'Donoghue could definitely convert me. I don't think he knew what hit him there... Christina, do you really think you should be doing THAT in public?

Sorry about that, had to pour some cold water over them both.

*grabs the bottle*

IT IS MINE!! MWAHAHAHAHA!!

*spins the bottle in a calculating way*

OH YEAH! GO ME!

Happy Publication day to me!!

A brief interlude....

Oh this is a lovely party. Bring a guest and spin the bottle. Tell us about it in the comments.


Brigid's Short Story is available here

'Piognant, funny, realistic yet romantic, these stories make you relive the good times and sigh over the sad ones. I loved them.' - Katie Fforde

First kisses are the ones that every one celebrates, the ones you remember. The ones you hope to treasure as it happened, storing up your memories to take out and relive.

But what about the last kiss?

The first in The Kiss Collection, an exciting new series of short stories from Brigid Coady & HarperImpulse.

How pretty...

*Please note this is a short story, approx. 1000 words in length designed for reading on your mobile phone or tablet.*

The Festival of Romance and Our Award Winner!

I’ve just come back from this year’s Festival of Romance, held in the centre of Bedford at various venues (all thankfully within walking distance of each other) and it’s been a great weekend – mostly because our own Liz Fenwick won the Reader Award for Best Romantic Read with her novel A Cornish Affair!  It was extra exciting because I got to read out the result and present her with the award, which felt very special :-)  So huge congratulations to Liz from all of us!

Liz and Christina at the Romance Fair

I should really start at the beginning though - here in the UK we are not spoilt for choice when it comes to romance festivals and/or conventions, like authors are in the US for example.  Here, the FoR is it.  Literally.  So as an avid romance/romantic fiction fan, as well as an author, I was very keen to be there and support it – any event that celebrates romance sounds great to me!  And it was huge fun – a varied programme of events, talks, workshops and, of course, the awards ball.

The festival kicked off on Friday night with an Art and Romance Evening at the newly opened Higgins Museum, where attendees were given a quick tour before the serious business of author readings began.  There were some fascinating pieces of furniture – both Georgian/Regency and Arts & Crafts painted pieces – all of which I would have loved to own!  The readings were by authors of historical novels and I was one of them.  We’d come dressed in period costume and my outfit was that of an ordinary woman of the 1640s.  Not very easy to wear while reading anything out loud, I have to say, as the bodice was kind of tight!

Liz and the other shortlistees in her category

Saturday was super busy, with a Romance Fair running all day where we set up stalls to sell our books and various other bits and pieces.  Several talks and author panels, plus readings from authors, went on during the day, and some of us were also running workshops.

The finale was the awards ball though, where the winners and runners-up were cheered on by an enthusiastic audience.  And this was when our Liz triumphed – woohoo!

I do hope the Festival of Romance can keep going as we need more romance/romantic fiction events in the UK and I’m already looking forward to next year’s!

Scary things

Happy Hallowe'en!

My son is very excited about Hallowe'en this year. He's quite a sensitive soul and last year he was a bit worried by the holiday: all the fake blood, the skeletons, the pumpkins carved into leering faces. It was too scary for him. He dressed up as a cat and he wanted to carve our pumpkin into Peso, the medic penguin from The Octonauts, who is kind and helpful.

This year, he is nearly seven and he is all about the gore. He's painting himself green and dressing up as a zombie, pretending to gnaw on a plastic severed hand. He made sure our pumpkin (above) was very toothy indeed. When I asked if I could make it smile, he said, 'Okay Mummy, but give it an EVIL smile. And put in MORE FANGS.'

This is, of course, awesome. And I'm encouraging it like crazy. Though truth be told, I'm not keen on the plastic severed hand and asked him to take it off the table during dinner.

I love scary stories. Being from Maine, I'm a huge Stephen King fan. I love so many of his books, particularly the early stories, but the one I like best is Misery. It's not a supernatural story, and it's not full of action; the main character spends most of his time tied to a bed. The horror comes entirely from character, which is how I like it. This year, for my delicious thrills, I'm reading an advance copy of The Girl With All the Gifts by M.J. Carey, a zombie story with a difference, and although it's got plenty of gore and thrills, it's the character and emotion that sucks me in.

Meanwhile, I'm facing some heebie-jeebies particular to a writer: I sent my latest book to my agent yesterday, and she's reading it even as I type. (I know this because she keeps sending me emails to tell me so.) It's pretty scary. But also...it is awesome. I'm so lucky to have this sort of terror.

Being scared when you know you're safe is wonderful. It gives you a thrill, and makes you feel even more grateful for the warm bed, the locked door, the loved ones nearby. I think of people who are genuinely frightened, who fear for their loved ones and themselves, who are under threat or in pain. Who live, in this country and in others, with the real horror of poverty or sickness or prejudice or injustice.

And I am thankful that we can play at being scared.

Baptism of Fire

When this blog was first started several years ago, I wrote a post about my ‘stage fright’ – I wasn’t used to doing talks in front of an audience and I’d just had to do one.  I was terrified!

I knew that as an author I would be called upon to do things like that at conferences and other author events, but I felt it just wasn’t me and never would be.  At the time, I doubted I’d ever get used to it.

I persevered and did the odd talk here and there and those who’d told me it would become easier with time were right in a way.  With practise, I learned that I could do it even though I was still scared each time, shaking inwardly (and sometimes outwardly too).  The key for me was to be thoroughly prepared, with notes in case I faltered and little prompts to keep me on track.  Doing joint talks with other authors was also a good idea, as we sparked off each other.  And kind, attentive audiences helped a lot as well – when you feel people are there because they truly want to listen to what you have to say, the nerves subside.

During the last two weeks, however, I’ve had what can only be described as a baptism of fire.  Together with fellow author Henriette Gyland, I was asked to go to Sweden to help promote our books over there, which was lovely.  What we didn’t know though, was that we’d be interviewed about our books in front of quite large audiences – in one case 250 people!

Two things helped us to cope with this – (1) we had what amounted to practice sessions at the Gothenburg Book Fair, being interviewed three times a day with only a small number of people watching each time and (2) we had a brilliant interviewer called Lotta Bromé.  Lotta knows exactly how to get the best out of everyone she talks to and whenever we faltered, she stepped in effortlessly with some comment that helped us overcome any sudden silence or blank.  She was superb and with her support, it hardly felt like an ordeal at all.

So will I stop being nervous now when I have to give talks?  Probably not.  But it’s certainly a lot less daunting now than it was three or four years ago, so who knows, in ten years time I might even look forward to it!

The TARDIS - Further Confessions of a Pack Rat

My flat is the Tardis. I know it doesn’t look like a blue police phone box but it does share one key characteristic:

It is bigger on the inside than the outside.

How do I know this, I can hear you ask. Well I’ll tell you. It is the only explanation for how, I have managed to remove two vans, one MPV and one small car’s worth of stuff from what is in reality only a small one bedroom flat. And that doesn’t take into account the kitchen stuff which I left in situ for my tenants.

I wouldn’t complain so much if I had just loaded those vehicles up without having done an initial reconciliation of my stuff... but I did! Hundreds of books went and I waved my sofa bed a teary goodbye at the Wandsworth Dump.

It is a mystery that one flat could contain so much stuff. I blame the storage space. Unusually for a central London flat it has quite a few cupboards. In fact they are the sort with handy top cupboards that can only be accessed by a stepladder and a long arm. It is amazing what was lurking in the back. A pair of ski boots emerged slightly dusty. Then a hard hat, reflective jacket and steel capped boots for construction site visits – no, I am not hiding members of The Village People (although I do have a fine collection of cowboy boots), it is for the day job.

This weekend I went through yet another cull of belongings that had emerged from my TARDIS, throwing things on the charity shop pile willy nilly. One day I’ll get my stuff down to manageable proportions... until I move back into the TARDIS of course.

Book Length

Love this Cormorant braving the waves...I took this pic on yesterday's celebration walk on Lizard POint

My next book A Cornish Stranger is due to be handed in on the 31st of this month. Yesterday I typed the words THE END but in truth it is far from the end. What happens now is what will make the book shine, or I hope it will.

However I have a problem at the moment. The book is shortish. Not novella length and not novel length yet I feel in my gut that the story is complete. I think with the themes and seriousness of some of the issues I don't want to pad the story out with things that will distract...so what do I do?

Today is my day away from the story. Despite the rain I plan to go for a walk, take a long bath and read something else. I know I actually like 'shorter' reads. But I wonder how readers feel? Do they feel cheated when the book isn't a door stop? What do you think?

Career Planning, or Sailing Blind

© Krzysztof Ostoja-helczynski | Dreamstime Stock Photos

In the day job, there are supervisions and appraisals. Evaluations and training needs assessments. Recently I've been looking at coporate, team and personal goals. Short, medium and long term. I can look at strategies, plans and peg my own aspirations to them. I can work with my line manager, area manager and team to set realistic, appropriate goals. Beyond that, I can career plan and set where I want to be in a few years' time.

 I feel the need for some writing career planning, but who do I work with? I need direction and an action plan.

"Are you okay, you look sad," asked Husband the other day. I wasn't sad, precisely, just preoccupied with trying to work out something I didn't appear to be able to work out... I couldn't figure out what to do and how to get there.

Yes, I know I could just write, but I feel like that old adage, "if one does not know for which port one is sailing, no wind is favourable." I've had a long break from writing seriously, and my writing confidence has suffered and I no longer know for sure what I can do.

Should I finish the big blockbuster or the abandoned Third Book? Should I try something completely different, or turn my attention to short stories? I feel like I can't afford to get this wrong, but have no idea how to work through it to get it right.

But maybe - unpalateable thought - there is no right or wrong thing and everything must take its chance.

But, man, I need a plan.