Both the year (almost) and my latest book.
I'm sitting at my Kulangoor (Sunshine Coast, Oz) desk, looking out at the torrential rain and thunder that I've missed so much over the past three months - not. In an hour or so it will be sweltering with 100 per cent humidity.
During the storm last night the dog vomited on the bed, and when Neil ventured outside between showers this morning he was bitten by a big-ass hornet. Probably the one whose nest I I removed from our bedroom window.
Apart from that, we're living the dream! Mind you, it was only last week in NZ when I'm sure I said I can't wait to get back to a proper summer. Oops.
On the writing front, after numerous edits by my beta reader Lynda in NZ, Jane, my Reedsy editor in Australia, then two more by myself (finding more errors every time) I finally bit the bullet and said 'take it!' to my publishers in Wellington. So now I just wait for their responses while I get on with life. It may take a little longer than anticipated, however, because of an unexpected family tragedy which happened to one of them. My thoughts are with them, and I'm happy to wait. They said it could be the end of January, beginning of February, which is fine with me.
Sales-wise, it's steady, as in hardly any, but it will pick up hopefully when 'Of Greenstone and Violins' goes live. I have a book launch planned after that, showcasing both books, perhaps in the Hamilton Library, but definitely in our village pub, the Greerton Social Club.
The latest library to stock "Finding Miriama' is the Whangarei Library, and I have a sneaking suspicion I know who is behind that. (Thanks Clive and Shelley).
In between penning novel number two, I took some time out to put a short story together for 'Byline', the Tauranga Writers 2024 anthology of poetry and prose. I'm not great at this genre, but for some reason they still included it. You can read the story if you like, below. It's based on events in my novel, but with a twist. Enjoy!
One thing most historical fiction writers can't get away from is research, and often that takes more time than actually writing the book. At least it does for me. But we wouldn't do it if we didn't enjoy it, particularly the rabbit holes we often go down.
I was researching nineteenth century slang in order to write the following extract which revolves around two gay characters walking home from a night out in London:
"It was in the wee small hours, after the friends left the music hall, a little tipsy and rather loud, that they encountered the ugly side of life in the inner south side of London.
“Oi, yous, pederasts, happy campers! Bawbel cuddlers! Give us a kiss you firkytoodler,” said the uglier of the two strangers, as he puckered his drooling lips not two inches from Colin’s horrified face.
Seeing his prey’s obvious disgust made him leer even closer, but before he could land a sodden snog on his evasive quarry, he was collected by a fist on the jaw and a hammer-like punch to the flabby gut, which sent him sprawling onto the cobblestones. His partner in crime had already beaten a hasty retreat, now nowhere to be seen.
Just as Josh was preparing to deliver a swift kick to the hapless tormentor’s ribs, Colin stepped in. “Leave him. He’s had it. Let’s go.”"
Of course that's whet your appetite to try 'Of Greenstone and Violins' :)
Hope you all have a relaxing Christmas and 2025 will be full of good things. We will stay in Queensland with family, either at the beach or in front of the air con, until I hop on the big white bird again on 19th February. There are a few exciting things coming up next year, which I shall tell you about then.
Arohanui
Donna
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