Dad used to pack tins of food in the spaces in the car engine compartment when we went camping.

This probably explains pictures like this (taken at the RNA Conference recently):

It also explains why I loooooooove to pack, and have just finished (I started a week ago) packing a seven-compartment suitcase with the assistance of twelve seperate packing bags, cubes, clever little garment holders and compression sacks.

I’m drooling slightly in packing fervour just at the memory.

It got to the stage I was staring to pack things because they fitted when I didn’t really need them at all.  I have packed for 17 days, but considering a small, ergonomically designed box of leaves of laundry soap fitted nicely into the corner of the shoe box, I could probably manage 17 weeks.

Of course, I may have over packed and be over weight for the flight.  But that’s okay. 

Because I packed a compressible extra bag, and can have that out in a second, throw a couple of pack-it cubes and garment carriers into that, and voila, two items of checked luggage, each under the allowance.

It’s a kind of obsession.  But sooooo much fun!

So.  Anyway.  Tomorrow I’m off to the hotel at Manchester airport, and then on Sunday I take to the skies on the first leg of my epic journey.  Look out Maine, here I come!

And then it’s lakes and woodlands, talks and writing, relaxation and swimming, then more flights, more friends, workshops, parties, awards ceremonies… and signing my book with over 550 other authors at the Literacy Autographing.

To say I was excited would be a mammoth understatement. 

(Should you, by some amazing chance, be reading this from Portland, Maine, come along to the library on the 23rd in the evening to see me, Julie Cohen and Kathy Love talking about writing and books and stuff)

Tea in the Sunshine at the RNA Conference

Well, last weekend was the best RNA conference I’ve ever been to.  Partly, I think, because of the positive, up-beat, unashamed mood set by the marvellous author panel for the first session - Kate Johnson, Nicola Cornick, Anna Jacobs, Kate Harrison and Kate Hardy did a fabulous job, and set the tone for the conference.  Partly because the sainted Jan Jones was worked like a fiend all year to make it happen well.

And partly because my first book was on the bookstall.

Mark Thornton and colleague from Mostly Books, setting up the bookstall.  Run Among Thorns is on the far left!

Yes, on the bookstall.

It sold out.

I swear to you, when I had finished meeting with Mark Thornton, the very swtiched-on book guru from Mostly Books, and he’d put it out on the table, I had to go outside, put my head between my knees and hyperventilate a bit till the dizziness went away.  SUCH a wonderful feeling, to see it there, on sale, watching people pick it up and buy it.  Being over here (UK) while it’s on sale over there (USA) I don’t get to see that….

It was funny, because I think I spoke to more people at this conference than I ever have before, and that had a lot to do with having more confidence because I have a book out.  I have a default setting, in social situations, of, “why would anyone want to talk to me?”  I know it’s stupid, and there are plenty of reasons, but it’s just one of those leftovers you can’t quite shift, you know?   It often results in my appearing stand offish, which is awful, because that’s not how I feel!  This time, though, it suddenly struck me that there were plenty of people there who WOULD want to talk to me.  And I wanted to talk to them.

I talked to them a lot in my workshop, too, wearing an outfit I’d bought that morning in the lovely shopping centre of Chichester (Sales!  Lots of Sales!!). 

Some author woman, looking like she knows what she’s doing…

 We did “Sense of Place - using settings in your story” and it seemed to be well-received, although I know I need to work on it - I think it needs more useful examples.  Although the stuff the group were coming up with in the exercises was brilliant.  I loved when one participant, Gillian, explained that whenever she passes a particular road junction where she had a car accident as a child, it always appears to be in shades of grey….  perfect example of how what we know about a place can affect every way we experience it.

So I may have done a bit of celebrating with friends last weekend. 

Julie Cohen and Biddy Coady, just after Biddy came third in the coveted Elizabeth Goudge Trophy contest.   Go Bids!

 Well, quite a lot of celebrating, actually.  Somewhere around the third bottle, we decided we all ROCKED…

Biddy and Fiona Harper, drinking champagne from coffee cups…

And, oh so much hangover afterwards.  I think I spent most of Sunday morning silently groaning… 

It was worth it…

You know, sometimes I worry people may think I’m making too big a deal of Run Among Thorns.  It’s only one, after all. I’m just starting out. I haven’t won awards, or appeared on a best seller list, or written scads of books. 

But I made a promise to myself when I sold, and reaffirmed it when Dad became ill shortly afterward and eventually died, long before Run Among Thorns was released.  I promised myself that I would pay attention, enjoy every step, brand it in my memory and celebrate every milestone.  As Husband says, you only ever get one first book.  I never, ever, want to look back on this time and think, “Oh, I wish I’d taken more time to reflect on that and enjoy it.”

I swore I’d take the time to smell the roses.

So I am.

Today and tomorrow, catch me at Five Scribes where I’m the guest of the lovely Donnell Bell.

I’m off to the RNA Conference tomorrow - wheeeee!

Back next week…

I just updated the welcome/home page on the site - and if you think I’ve been whining too much about being busy, reading that might be the reassuring antidote you need… 

Because I’m all over the place, both cyber and real world, in the next six weeks or so! 

This Friday, 27th June, I’m a guest of the lovely Anna Sugden at Writers at Play, talking about Run Among Thorns.

Wednesday, 2nd July, I’m being interviewed by good friend and talented writer Donnell Bell at the nex group blog, Five Scribes.  We’ll be talking about how Run Among Thorns came about, and what it’s like being an English author writing for a US market.

Then on Saturday 5th July I’ll be presenting a workshop on Sense of Place - using setting in your story, at the UK Romantic Novelists’ Association annual conference, in Chichester.  This will be my fifth RNA conference, but my first as a published author, and my first presenting a workshop!

On Wednesday, 23rd July I’ll be joining fellow romance writers Kathy Love and Julie Cohen at Rumford Library, Rumford, Maine (the joke being that they’re from Rumford, Maine and I’m from Romford, Essex…  ) for a talk and book signing.

And finally, for the Grande Finale, I’ll be joining some 500 other romance writers on Wednesday 30th July at the Literacy Autographing at Romance Writers of America’s National Conference in San Francisco.

Phew.

Do you reckon that’s enough for now? 

I’m blogging today at Romance Bandits, where you can read Kier’s hero interview, and have a change to name a beer… that will appear in my next book!

There’s signed copies and stuff on offer, too.  :-)  See you there!

Husband and I are off for a few days on the lovely Northumberland Coast.  Pourquoi, I hear you ask?

Well, it’s our wedding anniversary.  Ten years.

We’re pretty proud of that. 

On Friday, ten years ago, we were exchaning vows in the little church down the road, trying not to stare at the grass stains on the vicar’s surplice.  Considering the whole ordeal was Husband’s idea of a nightmare (standing up in front of a crowd, dressing up, speaking in front of a crowd…) he did fabulously.

Of course, he’d chosen a brilliant bride. 

The sun shone.  I wore a perfectly fitted natural silk gown, with a slight train, and a floor-length veil.  There was a brooch belonging to my grandmother hidden in the ivory silk roses on the back of my dress.  I wore my mother’s pearl ring, and a small piece of blue fabric was sewn into the dress, with our names and dates embroidered, by my hand, in gold thread.  There was a sixpence, donated by the seamstress who altered the dress for me, in my ivory silk shoe.

Husband wore a tie I’d given him, featuring lots of little cartoon sheep.  One of the sheep was wearing wellies.

After the reception, at which neither Husband nor I could eat anything, since we were both too hyper, and also at which I discovered the agony of sitting in layers of net petticoats, my brother, who was my Husband’s best man, gave a speech.  The thanked the bridesmaid, Husband’s sister, and said he couldn’t think of a better wife for his best friend than his sister, or a better husband for his sister, than his best friend.  There was not a dry eye in the house.

We drank champagne, pretended to eat cake, and went outside to our Lancia Delta, which was never to recover from the havoc that was wrought on its full rally body graphics by someone’s lipstick.

It was a fantastic day.

But however wonderful, memorable and perfect that day was, it cannot match the quality of the man I married. 

Since he doesn’t read this blog, I can be as sloppy as I like:  I love you, Ian.  Thank you for making me so very happy.

(The above isn’t a wedding picture, it was taken Christmas 06.  But I love how it encapsulates our relationship… lots of silly grins.)

 PS - While I’m away (back Sunday!) go and amuse yourself at Julie Cohen’s Blog Party!  Win some wonderful books!!!