Print is Fighting Back

… or is it?

This Christmas has been hailed as the proof of the fightback against digital. The print book sale has reached a three-year high, and perhaps the hopeful excitement of this news should be more obvious, but it’s not.

The bookshops and online stores took £75.4m in sales in the week running up to the 22nd December – figures not seen since 2009’s £75.7m [figures provided by Nielsen BookScan]. Popular books included those with films – Life of Pi and The Hobbit – the usual celebrity biographies* (Miranda Hart’s Is It Just Me? and Bradley Wiggins’ My Time taking 2nd and 3rd on the charts respectively), and Jamie Oliver’s 15 Minute Meals sealing top spot, making it a 5th year as Christmas Number One for the chef.

Concerning a Long Absence, a Book Review, and Some Running

Has it really been a month? I know people say “has it really been…” a lot, but honestly, has it REALLY been a month? It feels like days ago that I was rambling about what music I listen to and nosing around the Freshly Pressed stars. But no. It’s been a month. Or thereabouts. So I have abandoned you all to a dreary life without my shining beacon of blog posts to fill your grey days.

Or that’s what I like to think, anyway.

More likely is that you haven’t noticed my extended absence, and when this post appears in your feed, you’ll have an “oh yeeeeeaaaah” moment and then wonder what kind of flake writes a blog anyway if it’s been that long between posts. So all I can do, is apologise and hope that you will continue to read this post.

Firstly:

Concerning a Long Absence

Work has been overwhelming. Publishing is HARD. I love everything about it though. I love the madness, the creativity and the sweet, lovely authors who make me smile with their chirpy emails. But I’m working some ridiculous hours. I eat my lunches in front of the computer, and I’m usually the first in the office (though not often the last out, even when working late). I don’t complain because actually I really do love my job. It’s tacky and clichéd I know, but I feel rewarded from it. And that’s enough for me. But it does mean that I’m absolutely exhausted. And not just in the evenings. I mean, ALL. THE. TIME. But the crux of it is: I can’t get a lie-in. So I spend my whole time rushing around like a loon on little sleep. Which means, I haven’t even been on the computer in about – oh, three weeks. I just go to bed instead. Bed is probably my favourite place in the world right now. Before I was so busy, it was probably WordPress. See why I’ve been away so long? When it’s a choice between staring at another computer screen and going to bed, I’m afraid I’ve made the latter choice more often than not.

Concerning a Book Review

Since we last talked, I have finished the fabulous A Feast for Crows by George R.R Martin. Cue lots of gross cooing over its amazingness. I don’t really want to dwell on it except to say that it’s awesome. This is definitely one of the slower books in the series, and as George R.R Martin will tell you himself, this is only part of the story. It focuses on a few people of the cast – so fans of Jon Snow and Tyrion, you’re going to be disappointed with this particular book in the series. However, for fans of Cersei, she starts to really come in to her own (and by the way, “her own” is completely bonkers). In fact, I was so desperate to find out what was going on elsewhere in the GoT world that I had to start the next in the series – A Dance with Dragons: Dreams and Dust – to keep the story going. Be prepared to do the same, because you will be frustrated when you know you’re not getting the whole story!

Now I’d love to put the synopsis up, but it does have spoilers, so I won’t. Suffice to say – it’s good, and you should read it, no matter what the blurb says on the back cover.

Rating: 8/10

Concerning Some Running

As I have already mentioned, I am training for a half-marathon, to raise money for the Stroke Association. So far I’m running 3 times a week around the back roads. I love going out in the early mornings and running with the deer and hawks and woodpeckers. Plus, in the current heatwave (I seem to be only person in Britain NOT complaining about it) it’s a lot cooler at 5.30am than it is at 5.30pm. I’ve managed to get my running up to 6.5km, and I’m on for about a 2 hour time in total for the half marathon, so I think I’m doing okay.

However, the most important part is that I need to be fit enough to run a half marathon in October, so that I can do it and raise the money. Our family has been affected by a stroke, and it can be frightening and devastating. We were the lucky ones – my grandmother recovered and I still have her around. Others aren’t so lucky. For those that survive a stroke, life is altered dramatically. From speech to movement, many people have to relearn basic motor skills and words they used to use every day. Imagine knowing that you know how to do it, and yet not being able to anymore. It’s frightening, frustrating and a long process towards recovery. That’s where the Stroke Association come in. They offer support, rehabilitation and somewhere to go when the rest of the world gets too much. I can’t thank them enough for what they’ve done to help my Granny, and I hope that the money I raise will go a little way towards doing the same for countless other families affected by strokes.

My running is something I enjoy doing, but it feels more satisfying knowing that I’m doing it for a worthy cause.

And there’s my post my lovely ones! I’m sorry I’ve been away for so long and I hope you enjoyed! Remember to drop by, and I will try to update more often!

Writing Family

My mum’s favourite story of me as a child is of when I started to learn to speak. From age Dot I had been interested in stories… now I could talk, all I wanted to do was tell my own stories. Which I did. With great gusto. I’m not sure whether the adults took as much enjoyment out of it as I did, but there we go.

When I was 15 (or 16, I can’t remember – the ages blend into a miasma of teenage angst) I wrote my first book. It was a blend and mish-mash of horrifying romanticism, half-baked ideas, some amazing scenery and a fantasy world that has endured for nearly 10 years. But it was my very own – chapters and pages and thousands of words all my own. I was so proud of it. When I decided that I wanted my copy of my Very First Book – bound and displayed for all to see – my ever-understanding father took me to work with him. At the time, he worked in a law firm in London, in a huge glass building. I was taken for the day, with my precious novel ready for printing. For an entire day, I ran riot around the office whilst the printing department printed and bound copy after copy of my terrible book. And there it was… printed, bound, black-and-white. Real. Almost like a proper book. I swelled with pride, and my dad boasted that I was the next Bestseller.

At University, a group of Creative Writing students bonded together to make a rag-tag bunch of book-reviewers/writing-workshoppers/gossips. And it was down to them that I got the grades I did, whilst they cajoled and argued and encouraged my writing into something acceptable.

And the point of these stories?

I’m 24 now. I write everyday – whether it be rubbish sentences or full-blown short stories. I read at the very least a book a week. I dream in books. I fantasise about a job in publishing and editorial. My genetic make-up isn’t chromosomes, it’s words, and language and stories.

Do you think any of that would have been done without the help, patience and encouragement of my family? Without that bunch of people who used to willingly read my stuff over a burger and a beer?

My one suggestion, if I’m even authorised to make suggestions now, is that you need to find your Writing Family. I was lucky that my family are part of my Writing Family, and even luckier that it’s grown over the years to include fellow writers. Pestering and harassing aside, they helped my writing, and they continue to do so.

So thank you.