Thanks to the wonders of the Internet, I very recently ‘met’ the Canadian author, Gila Green, who is based in Israel. Since then, I’ve got to know her a little better, as she kindly agreed to be interviewed. To date, Gila has written four novels, and her work has been shortlisted for many awards, which is no surprise. Her books focus on everyday people tackling immigration, racism, alienation, war, politics, romance, poverty, terrorism, and surviving. After I read those words, I was instantly drawn. Gila was a joy to interview, honest, funny and an example to us all in terms of her gutsy determination to see her work in print. She finishes up the interview with a few of her top tips for us aspiring writers.
The year is 1963 and Lisa Grant is four-years-old. Her mother, Elizabeth, has hatched a plan with two families living down the road from to employ a governess to teach Lisa and the neighbours' young daughters. I confess I am guilty of a case of writer's revenge when I wrote this, but it is the only... Continue Reading →
The reading of Arthur’s Will was expected to be straightforward and that he would dutifully leave his fortune to his grieving widow. A few minutes before her outburst, Lisa had been fighting to control her anger and Elizabeth, as usual, was the focus of her irritation. She’d arrived late, dressed like the Queen about to meet a head of state but, thankfully, not wearing a hat. She waited for the solicitor to pull up a chair for her and sat in wide-eyed anticipation waiting for the reading to start, whilst stifling the odd theatrical tear.
It is the 8th of October 1980, and it's Lisa Grant's twenty-first birthday. She has recently been reunited with her father, Fergus, who lays on a party for her at her favourite restaurant in Soho, Fanny's Bistro. The tables are hastily rearranged to accommodate one uninvited guest, Lisa's mother, Elizabeth. Towards the end of... Continue Reading →
‘Working up until the end, were you?’ He asked, watching Jocelyn’s face as if expecting a reaction. When he was alone with a corpse, he always liked to chat with them. After assuring them he would find their killer, he enjoyed a bit of one-sided banter with them, as well as the odd laugh. ‘If you made a note of whodunit, that would be useful. It would make my life a lot easier.’ There were two empty glasses and a cocktail shaker on the bedside table. Humphrey picked the shaker and shook it. It was empty. Holding one the glasses to his nose, he sniffed it. ‘Juniperus communis.’ He said, looking at Jocelyn again. ‘You obviously liked your gin. Still the party girl, then?’
Christmas is coming and finding presents for the younger members of our families is at the forefront of our minds. Today, we have a great idea for the 8-12-year-olds in your lives, the recently published Billy’s Brain Booster Juice which, as the reviews will tell you is... a rip-roaring tale!! Perfect for 8-12-year-olds. It gives me great pleasure to introduce you to Billy's creator, the author Becci Murray from Gloucestershire. Becci has written sketches for children’s television, along with theatre plays for a children’s drama company and now, Billy’s Brain Booster Juice.
The first time he invited her back to his flat for a drink after a cocktail party to celebrate the New Year, she took advantage of his inebriated state. He flopped on to the sofa next to her, and she turned toward him, straddling his lap and pinning him down. Covering his mouth with hers, he felt he couldn't breathe. Although way out of his comfort zone, being pounced on by an eighteen-year-old siren with the sexual appetite of a tigress, resistance was futile. If he had any doubts about the morality of his seduction, Elizabeth had no intention of giving him any time to think about it. In the foggy waking moments of his hangover the following day, he dismissed what had happened between them for what it was, drunk sex. It would never happen again. He only had a few weeks left in London, and he would make sure he kept a low profile.
Fergus tipped his head back, laughing and carried on running. He was a handsome young man, his features a mix of masculine and feminine characteristics, which intrigued and attracted. He had a shock of golden-blond hair with a heavy quiff that flopped across his brow, through which he habitually ran his fingers to scrape it away from his avocado coloured eyes. Popular amongst his peers, his natural magnetism made it easy for him to make friends, and he was well known for his great sense of humour. Always immaculately dressed, he would turn heads wherever he went. He was often mistaken for a star of the silver screen, which amused him as he was unaware that he oozed charisma and charm.
In June 2016 an idea for a book I'd been carrying around in my head for years, began clogging up my thought process. I needed to write it, a.s.a.p. and, as luck would have it... I was made redundant. So I threw myself into writing Just Say It. After I started it, I realised I had little else apart from the main character and, after writing the first draft, she was beginning to sound alarmingly like me. The pantser-style first draft was nothing more than an autobiographical unburdening of my life to date, with a large dollop of post-redundancy frustration on top. After a total overhaul of the original manuscript my MC, Lisa Grant, thankfully, took on a life of her own. It took me four and a half years to finish her story. The storyline often going off at tangents, which produced unrealistic MC goals and hours of frustrating rewrites.