Piece on Earth
Launch, shortlist, ripples - releasing words and finding space
Launch
The Book Launch for Future’s End and the audiobook of Outpost 9 happened hundreds of hours ago on 10 May. I don’t think I know how to recap an event that cost me months of nerve-shredding and nail biting, yet flew by in a blur that felt measureable in nanoseconds. It (apparently) went really well. There was an excellent crowd and next-level cake. I mumbled enough ‘thank yous’ and ‘sorrys’ to take me twice around the Equator. Future’s End is enjoying a flying start on Goodreads, Outpost 9 has found its second wind…
… THANK YOU!
The Incredible Machines of Thinkery Book 3, provisonal title ‘Northern Sky’, is now at about 8000 words. Some of which may be in the right order.
Shortlist
I’m so excited to be writing this next bit. My short story ‘Dawn’ has been shortlisted for the Hull Literary Prize!
‘But, how do you know which awards to enter?’
‘Um… I don’t.’
I’ve accidentally found a rhythm - write a short story over the winter months, then, when it’s as close to finished as I feel it ever will be, I Google ‘short story awards’ and fire it off into the ether. The Hull Literary Prize, unlike many, is free to enter. Which is nice.
‘Dawn’ is the story of a recently divorced, middle-aged woman discovering the underground rave scene of the 90s. At 2000 words it’s a bit of a hefty read for a newsletter, I’ll post it as additional content mid-June once the results are announced. 😁
Ripples
There is no batting around the fact that I poured my naked soul into May’s newsletter. Me and the black eyed dog. I’ve said things I fear are clumsy or hurtful or both, a knee-jerk response to friends’ travel plans, gig tickets or wild swimming adventures. Which isn’t nice. At all. Also not nice - I’ve had to resell the Bruce Springsteen (I KNOW!!) tickets that I booked in February, which brings home how insidiously progressive this mean collection of illnesses is.
But.
I’m doing the counselling, which is brutal, frankly.
But.
It needs to be, and I am starting to feel stronger for it. In explaining how life feels, or trying to at least, trapped under my little glass dome while the world happens around me, the thought arose…
'OK, so there is this damn dome. I can’t get rid of it, that I cannot change. But I can move it?’
And… is there any reason why it can’t be on the water (echoing bank account non-withstanding), like this?👇
This is a bit mad and so very exciting - I will soon have a boat again! A far cry from a tall ship, and there is no rigging to drool over, but she will be my writing den, complete with a bed for recharging, coffee for enjoying and peace for the taking.
"Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing—absolutely nothing—half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats."
- Ratty, Wind in the Willows
Thank you, not just for reading this but for all the support you continue to show me. I always do my best to pay forward the kindness I have been gifted. Tis all about the ripples, isn’t it? These little ripples of kindness that all help make our world a beautiful place to be.
Luv and peace,
✌️
Linnhe
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