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Showing posts from February, 2012

Charmaine Clancy ~ Author Interview

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News Flash ~ You've got just two more days before the international release of Charmaine Clancy's  newest book  My Zombie Dog.

Zombie Dog promises gore, humour and insanity on a canine level and is aimed at our sometimes gory, often silly and verging on insane, tween market. But before sales go crazy on the1st of March, I managed to pull Charmaine aside to a quite corner of the cemetery and find out a bit more about this exciting new Queensland kids author. Here's what I discovered:
10 Things you didn't know aboutCharmaine Clancy and Zombies
1. This is your debut release. How long have you been writing for? Tried and failed to write novels many times in my youth. What I didn't know then is imagination is not enough, I needed to LEARN the right skills. About 4 years ago, at Uni, I came across a classmates blog; Amy from Ink-Fever. Amy was making her writing a priority. This motivated me to get stuck in and see a novel through to the end.
2. Why did you decide to self p…

Escars got to GO

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I may not be the most tolerant of people at times. But I do try to be charitable. I turn a blind eye when one of the chooks demolishes a chili plant. I don't mind the fruit bats gorging themselves silly on my guavas and mangoes night after night. I allow the wretched wasps to build their mud condos all over my house because they do such a good job rounding up the spiders and caterpillars for their babies.

But the thing which sets my blood boiling is the nightly, ritualistic, denuding of my veggie patch by those slimy, stealth like, slug faced molluscs that call themselves, Snails.
Don't be fooled by their cute whiskery apperance here either. Midnight torch raids have revealed a revelry of ruminating renegades. Marigolds droop, caught in a slick skin of slime like something out of Ghostbusters. Whole rows of seedlings are eradicated in less time than it takes to say What's Up Doc?
Honestly, I have enough in my back yard to start my own French bistro.
Apart from actually eati…

A letter to England

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Dearest England,

Forgive me. It's been too long since I've been in touch. But while sorting through my shoe box of snap shots the other day, I came across splashes of colour, images frozen in time, which reminded me of you and of Christmas last. I thought you'd like to see some.

I can't believe it's been nearly five weeks since we left Nelson's country. The bracing cold air of Norfolk in winter is losing its bite. The memory of it, burning my cheeks and causing my ears to throb, fading like a dream upon waking. I cling to it just as fervently but it's hard to retain such a memory when the humidity here makes you sweat even as you sit unmoving.


 We expected more snow. You gave us the second mildest UK Christmas on record. We expected rain. You cleared away the cumulus revealing crystalline blue skies day after day. It's been raining nearly every week since we got back. Heavy, relentless sub tropical rain worthy of any wet season but striking fear int…

Come on In

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Okay, so seeing swans is one serendipitous side effect of an unplanned early morning walk. I've been waiting patiently for Opportunity to approach again. Waiting for it to hammer repeatedly on my door with unsolicited offers of publication. Alas, no bang the door down deals yet but it has been tapping away. And I decided to let it in...


I've been invited by teacher-librarian and food reviewer Marj Osborne to speak alongside esteemed children's author illustrator Narelle Oliver at Aquinas College on the Gold Coast next month.

Like anyone opening their door to an unannounced visitor offering news too good to be true, I immediately wondered, have they got the right person? Is this for real? Apparently, Marj has and it is.

My tummy is a blender full of emotions. Excitement is whizzing around a million miles an hours with trepidation. I confess, this cocktail has set my nerves slightly ajar. I can't remember the last time I spoke to an audience of human beings over the age…

Knock Knock, Who's There?

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The sun had barely eased its way out of bed. The air was still bitey and damp with last night's dew. I arrived at the gym for yoga practice with enough time to secure a spot and have a nice lie down before the class began, only to be told that it was cancelled. Sorry, you should have noticed the sign we just put up. What about a sauna instead? front desk guy offered cheerfully. Great, only I'd dressed for a yoga class not a semi naked sweat out. What about the gym? Um, well would wearing thongs on the treadmill be okay then? No sorry - against health and safety.

So, abandoning the idea of getting healthy within the gym, I left. What to do for an hour before I needed to be home, I wondered? This was a rare opportunity indeed, an hour of unscheduled time as vacant as the yoga workout room back at the gym. So I snatched it up; dumped my yoga mat back in the car, and went for a walk, which you can do without a towel and just in thongs.


I walked under stately poincianas, alongside…

Happy New Year!

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In my customary always-running-behind style, I seem to have missed out on the fanfare of the New Year; the well wishing, the extravagant wave of resolutions, the insightful posts promising possibilities and commitment.

Perhaps I still have time to proclaim, Gong Xi Fa Choy to one and all. The Year of the Dragon promises extremes, good and bad; that if you double your efforts, double rewards will follow. Don't be complacent and watch your temper!

I wonder how all this bears upon my humble 2012 Resolutions: Write More, Eat Less (no really)?

I thought of another this morning: Be more Forgiving. By this I hope to be less of the Shouty Woman, less impatient with myself and others and less intolerant of all those other shouty, impatient, intolerant so and sos who continually get in my way.

Multiple rejections, family constraints and the usual insufficient amount of minutes on my clock will continue to test my metal but it's helmets on and off we go.

And I have a bunch of reasons to ge…