If I can't tell whether I'm coming or going, it might be because I'm doing both. Promoting my first novel while checking proofs of the next is making me dizzy, but there's a logic to it. I think.
My next novel is my best yet and I want as many people as possible to read it. In order to read it, people need to be aware of it, and the ideal way of bringing it to the attention of potential readers is through email. So I set myself the objective of finding 100 new subscribers by April.
Of course, it's not enough to organise the freebie and put my feet up. I have to promote Sugar and Snails before I can use it to promote Matilda Windsor Is Coming Home. Which is why I feel caught in a chain compelling me from a tiny bite to trying to swallow an animal bigger than me. Like the old woman in the rhyme.
Except that this version is fun and accompanied by a side-order of generous support from fellow authors and bloggers to help me digest a menagerie of insects, mammals and birds. Some have kindly agreed to re-blog reviews and guest posts. With others, we've worked together to produce something new. Let's ditch the dodgy diet metaphor, and have a look at those. Tap on an image to find out more.
The sun god poked his head between the pyramids: an egg yolk; an amber traffic light; courage. At fifteen, I’d seen too many dawns abandon me to darkness. Cairo promised a signal change.
Sunrise on the pyramids is a tourist cliché. For those free to holiday abroad. For thirty years I was indifferent. I knew the glare could blind me. The heat could sear my defences clean away.
Simon’s invitation shimmers like a heat haze. If I accept, will his lustre dim? Or will it highlight every blemish? Dare I chance it? At fifteen, I watched the sunrise alone.