All posts tagged: books

SHOP

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Carol J Forrester lives in Cheshire with her husband and their fish. She wanted a dog, she got koi instead. After growing up in the glorious greenery of North Shropshire, and spending her childhood exploring the countryside around her parents’ farm, she moved to Bath for university, then to Crewe to live and work. ‘It’s All In the Blood’ is her first full poetry collection, and covers topics such as family, ancestry, feminism, mythology, mental health, and how a rural background can shape you as a person. “These deftly written poems cover all aspects of life in a farming family from the hardships of lambing and the contradictions of relationships, to a world of Bic razors, children’s games and old teapots. The poems are vivid and confidently crafted, including effective use of myths and legends which counter the muddy boots of everyday survival. A most promising debut collection.” Helen Kay The Poultry Lover’s Guide to Poetry’ (Indigo Dreams), ‘This Lexia & Other Languages’ (V. Press) A bold, brutally honest and dazzling debut collection that insists …

To Self-Publish Or Not To Self-Publish? That Is The Sleep Depriving Question #WeekendCoffeeShare

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About five years ago I self-published a collection of poetry through lulu. I made exactly nothing despite apparently selling at least one book through amazon (according to the less that encouraging review posted), and in the end I retired the project. The experience taught me a number of important things. Lulu is not the way to go if you want to sell a physical book on Amazon and make any margin. I am not a good enough editor. I need to outsource this element to avoid the number of typos and mistakes that were in the last book. Reading poems you wrote five or more years ago can be a painful experience. Especially when you realise the bad review hit the nail directly on the head. So why am I about to give self-publishing another shot? Well clearly I’m a glutton for punishment. When I published ‘Before The Words Run Out’ there were thirty-two poems, a series of haiku, and some pieces of flash fiction (all of which can be found somewhere in the depths of …

Down In The Dust – #FridayFictioneers

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‘There’s never much green out here is there?’ said Bobby, reaching out to pinch the thorn end of a twig. The bush had rooted into one of the fissures running along the face of the valley and Bobby could see its thin, grey roots spidering outwards in tendrils.   He twisted his hand and the twig crumbled. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered and dusted the debris away.   He turned and walked the fifty yards back to his car. The boot was still open, the spade inside. ‘I should have found somewhere nicer,’ he muttered, gripping the handle. ‘You would have preferred somewhere green.’

Echo #Cinquain Poetry – Writing In Fixed Form For Colleen’s 2019 Weekly Tanka Tuesday

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Echo. Shadow voices drifting slowly closer. Seconds crackle, shiver, collapse. Silence. The little poem above is a Cinquain written for Colleen’s 2019 Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge. Each line has a set number of words, and a set number of syllables. Overall it’s a tiny, tight poem, that like all fixed forms can be a pain in the arse to write well. Fixed Form is probably the hardest poetry to write to a high standard, because the rules mean you have to find words that suit what you’re trying to say, but also fit in with the structure you’ve got to work with. It is just the same when you’re working with a rhyme scheme. You might have a word that paint the right picture for the piece, but it might not rhyme in the way you need it to, so you have to substitute in something else of rework the entire poem. It’s why I write so much poetry in free verse, because that way I don’t feel like I’m hammering my poems into …

Half Dead And Half Alive: Solitary Creatures Part Two

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Edwin hated the smell of incense, it was too potent and the nagging voice in the back of his brain told him that it was only there to hide something from him. Something like the stench of slowly decaying bodies. Or one slowly decaying body to be exact. One slowly decaying body that had been stuck in the basement of a church for the last eight hundred years. ‘So you’re not dead,’ croaked Syms. ‘That’s a surprise and a half. Thought you and your halfwit might have tripped over your own feet into a grave months back, but look at us now, together again, all in the same room.’ Sammy shifted at the halfwit comment but didn’t speak. He wanted to be in the room even less than Edwin and Edwin was about ready to kill to get out. He’d cocked up Edwin decided. Syms had been a bad, bad idea and now he remembered why. The zombie kept looking between them, his one good eye bulging in its socket while what was left of …

Confessions Of A Bookworm: August

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My last book related posts was all the way back in May so I’m feeling a little ashamed of myself, especially when I look and see that most of the books I was reading or about to read are still unread or half finished around the house. Part of the reason was moving house, this meant I didn’t have much time for reading and alongside studying and writing, getting through actual books has been a bit tricky. I’m getting back on track though. So, for the last Wednesday in August, here is my booky post.   What Am I Currently Reading: This month’s list is a lot shorter than my normal ones, just two books. ‘Legends and Liars’ is the second book in Julia Knight’s series and the first book got me absolutely hooked. It’s fantasy but with a hint of steampunk, Reyes [the main city of the first book] is a clockwork wonder and the Ikaras of the second book is a mysterious glass city of beauty and unexplained complexities.I adore Kacha and Voch …

NaPoWriMo Day Ten

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Today’s prompt for NaPoWriMo was to write a book spine poem. This means taking the titles of books of your shelves and using them to write a poem. Since I own over six hundred books, I haven’t used all of them in this poem. Instead I kept it to less than thirty. I’m not sure it makes much sense so I’d love to hear your thoughts.  The title is taken from Kate Innes’ first novel. The Errant Hours The horse and the boy, the man who knew infinity, under these northern lights watching a dance of chaos, and the madness underneath. A great a terrible beauty, a poison garden.   Among thieves, pirates, at the ocean at the end of the lane. A place called Neverwhere, amongst returners of the darkest mercy. He dreams of a dark warrior.   His huntress with an assassin’s blade, a storm glass in the centre of a city of bones. The gathering of the lost, mothers, mystics and merrymakers, here lies his inheritance.   Wormwood and rebel angels. The colour …

If We Were Having Coffee

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Hi everyone, it’s that time of the week again when we you get to hear me ramble at you about my week. For once I’ve had a pretty eventful week and managed to get quite a bit done so it’s going to be a pretty full post. So if we were having coffee I’d tell you all about… MY NEW FISH!!!!   Okay, so that’s probably not the most important part of my week, but I actually went out and bought them, brought them home, sorted out the tanks and got everything sorted out by myself. Fiancée was asleep for the whole duration of my going out, buying said fish, returning and putting them in the tank. ‘Fish.’ ‘Yes, fish.’ ‘Couldn’t you have bought some better one?’ Apparently he isn’t the biggest fan of platty fish but oh well. They’re mine and I love them. I bought three, one oranda called Danny and two platty who I’ve named Thelma and Louise. Thelma and Louise seem pretty happy with their new tank, Danny however has decided …