Touch Wood

Are you superstitious?

I like to think that I’m (mostly) a sane and sensible individual, who knows that chucking a smattering of spilt salt over my left shoulder really won’t keep the Devil away … but I still do it!

My best friend always says that, if you light a cigarette from a candle, a sailor somewhere will meet with his peril (weird lot, the Scottish).  If that’s the case, we must be responsible for a boatload of watery deaths by now as we tend to constantly misplace lighters.

My husband, brought up as a good Christian, has no truck with superstitions and will actually defy them just to dismiss them as ‘hocus pocus’.  If there’s a ladder to walk under, he’ll do it with a smile on his face and a spring in his step - makes him look a bit daft but he doesn’t care.

A have a niece who (at about the age of nine) was so obsessed with banging her second elbow if she’d hit the first accidently, I swear she walked around with bruised arms for about a year!  Thankfully she outgrew it as she looked like she was doing some sort of weird hokey-cokey.

In the 80’s I had a lovely Laura Ashley skirt and blouse in matching black floral print (I did say the 80’s - I’m not saying it would be a great look now!).  Whenever I wore this attractive ensemble, something awful would happen: an argument with a friend, a splitting headache or torrential rain to play havoc with my curly perm.  The straw that broke the camel’s back was when I jumped onto the back of a moving bus (dumb, I know, but I was late) and missed my footing, resulting in me being dragged behind the bus in my floral finery.

I never wore that outfit again!

Going to drama school meant never uttering the word ‘Macbeth’ backstage.  If you should let it slip, you must leave the theatre, spin around three times, spit and then knock to be allowed to re enter.  It’s said that Shakespeare wrote black magic into the witches’ spells and, as the play is so violent and physical, accidents will often happen.  My best friend can vouch for this.  Whilst playing the part of Lady Macbeth at a small theatre in Covent Garden (lunchtime performance, attended mainly by OAP’s) she’d overdone the hairspray to achieve the manic, demented look.  On her final exit with a candle she tripped and her hair began to catch light.  We managed to extinguish her fairly quickly but we heard a couple of biddies leaving the theatre saying, “Oooh, that was so realistic, but I never knew that was how she died, did you?”!

So what are my favourite superstitions?  The ones I just can’t drop, no matter how hard I try?

I’ll never put a new pair of shoes on the table - don’t ask me why, I’ve just had it drummed in to me from a very early age that it’s bad luck and I don’t want to tempt fate.

I won’t pick a flower up from the ground - someone will die!

I make sure I never have crossed knives on the table - an argument will follow.

I won’t burst a crisp packet - someone will lose their job.

I never do washing on New Year’s Day - it washes all your luck away for that year.  (Think this one was made up generations ago, just to give over-worked housewives a day off, but it suits me just fine!)

I always say “Hello Mr Magpie” three times if I see one on his own.  Can get you a few odd looks if you’re alone, but needs must!

I say ‘Bless you with the angels’ to my cats before I leave the house - I believe this keeps them out of harm’s way.

If I put my knickers on inside out, I have to leave them like that for the day despite my husband’s persistent offers to remove them and rectify matters.  Call it laziness, I call it good luck.

Do you have any weird superstitions to add to these - family orientated or otherwise?  Come on, spill the beans.

And, if you’ve been thinking about buying my book but have been putting it off, do it today or bad luck will befall you (only joking!).  Available at Amazon for Kindle.  Now also in paperback at Lulu.

A Writer's Rant

Dear Publishers       

Today I am hacked off, peed off and miffed.

It’s been a while coming, and I think I’ve done pretty well to hold off to this point, but today it finally hit.

You see, oh Great Ones, you missed out on me.  You let me slip through your net and we’re both losing out as a result.

What’s brought this on, I hear you ask?  Well, on my shopping trip today I saw a ‘proper published’ author signing copies of her books in W H Smith and I just had that little pang of ‘It should have been me’.

An advance from you came so tantalisingly close but, sorry, close is just not good enough anymore.  You backed out on me when the recession started to bite, and I’m going solo with an eBook instead, but now the bitterness is setting in.

I look at my reviews on Amazon and the majority of people who have bought my book say it’s a crime it’s not in paperback.  I also have countless people telling me that they would love to buy my novel if only it was in hard copy.

Doesn’t that tell you something?

It tells me that I have an audience out there who I’m not reaching.  No matter how hard I try, and how much I promote, I’ll always be missing out on a group of readers beyond my grasp.

Had I been a celebrity with a ditzy plot (obviously ghostwritten), I’d be splattered across the shelves before you could say “Jordan”.  But I’m not.  I’m just a little ol’ newbie with a good yarn to tell and (hopefully) the knack of giving readers a giggle.

The fact that I was asked by your top people to start on the sequel to Mummy Misfit (which I dutifully did), and that I’ve also started on my next project, add up to nothing.  The word culls and re-writes I was asked to complete can only have made my book better, but the fact remains I’m an unknown and that’s as far as you can see.

I was told by my agent that you’d given me ‘unprecedented praise for a first time author.’  (I have the emails to prove it!).

But where did it get me?

I’m prepared to spend every single day honing my craft.  There’s nothing I enjoy more than sitting down and working on my next project - I’m a grafter.  How many bloggers do you know who manage to post every day?  At the risk of boasting, I’m also promoting and writing every single one of those days.

Surely I’m worth taking a chance on?

So, publishers, I’m here for the long haul.  This is my dream and you won’t take it away from me.  I’ll keep on with the slog and I WILL make this work.

If you fancy lining your pockets by taking a chance on a newbie, you know where to find me …

… slogging over my laptop and churning out the next book for those who have asked for it.

Where else?

Yours sadly

Mummy Misfit

‘Diary of a Mummy Misfit’ is only available on Amazon for Kindle, PC or iPhone.  Check out my great reviews and if you’re a publisher, get in touch!!  Now also in paperback at Lulu. - because you missed out!

Sound the Trumpets

Today I’m blowing my own trumpet - as an ‘Indie’ author I have no agent or publisher to do my grafting, so I guess it’s down to me.

Selling an ebook is hard work.  Besides promoting and working on my new novel, I blog here every day and try to think of new and innovative ideas to get ‘Diary of a Mummy Misfit’ out there.

One of the things I do is ‘Tweet’ each time I get a new review, so today I’m using my blog platform to show off some of the lovely ones I’ve received in the UK.  Maybe those of you who have considered the book but not yet bought it will be swayed by my happy readers.

Remember this is only a selection, so you can always go to Amazon UK or .Com to check out my others (BTW, I don’t have a bad one yet - hope that’s not tempting fate!)

Here goes:

Miss Mootastic (North West England) - Wonderful weekend read.

Thoroughly enjoyed Diary of Mummy Misfit, its diary format made it extremely easy to read and would be an ideal holiday read. Some fabulous characters in the book a few of which we can all recognise in our own lives. There are parts in the book (too many to mention in this review) that had me laughing out loud. I am now looking forward to the next instalment of Mummy Misfit. Wouldn't hesitate in recommending this book to friends - in fact I already have!

Mandy McSherry - Brilliant!

What an absolutely brilliant book. I went to a state and private school as a child and as a parent. The book is so true to life. I don't normally read humour books, but every page either had me smiling by what was written, or laughing. The main character in the book I could totally relate to, she never quite fitted in the people who had money, but was so nicer than them. It shows what snobbery is like but with such humour. I could not put the book down and look forward to the next one. Well done Amanda.

Margaret P - What a giggle.

I was introduced to this book through a friend who had just finished it but I was reluctant to sit at the PC for hours on end to read it, not being a Kindle owner. The friend insisted as it was such a laugh so I gave in and gave it a go. Thank goodness I did. It really captures the silliness of monied but classless yummy mummies and made me laugh out loud more times that I can count. I really felt for the heroine as she stumbles her way through her new world and I loved the way the author builds up the jokes. A fab ending too and I'm really hoping that there will be a sequel. A crime that it isn't out in paperback as it would make a great light read for holidays Cheered me up, no end.

Tara L - A Kindle store gem

I discovered this book while browsing for a holiday read and wasn't disappointed.  I hadn't heard of the author, but the storyline appealed and the free download sample was as good as any chick lit I'd read in diary format. Brought plenty of laughs and the author perceptively sums up some very recognisable types you meet in the vulgar monied set. This isn't wealth bashing, but it makes you question who is richer. Something for everyone - chaotic family life, school gate competitiveness, gays, a cultural mix - all wrapped up in witty and well captured observations. A definite recommend!! If you like a diary, it's a grown-up Bridget Jones without the snobbery of Rachel Johnson. Should be in paperback.

C McShane (Belfast)

Apparently I was one of the 1st to download this fantastic book - it was also my 1st ever kindle purchase for my iphone. it was fab - really loved it. You relate to the characters immediately and the interaction between the best friends and the "yummy" mummys at the school was brilliantly done. I chose it after a quick free download of a couple of pages and was so delighted I did - I also was a bit dubious about it not being a "proper book" but to be honest, it was easier than I thought - couldn’t put it down and sat up one morning reading it until 4am. Highly recommend the book (and have done to my friends) and I can’t wait for the next book. I had never heard of the author before - but she is great in my opinion. Also following her blog too - hilarious take on life and I wish I was more like her in her outlook on life Keep up the good work Amanda :-)

C.R Wood (Dorset) - Something special

Amanda Egan has written an engaging, delightful and impacting book. I'd agree with all the other reviewers, adding that the pace of the story is excellent and the diary-viewpoint drifts us along naturally with central character, Libby, who arrives at a watershed moment in her life, when Max, her young son is sent to private schooling. Libby and her husband Ned, are introduced to a new and breath-takingly dislikeable set. One moment the reader is laughing and the next, almost in tears with empathy for this beleaguered, but well-intentioned Mummy Misfit. A perfect title! This book really is cleverly written. Perhaps Amanda has touched on the most unnerving aspects of private schooling, but this is an honest book, written in language we can all understand and relate to, which is why it is so successful. Diary of a Mummy Misfit should be swept up by a publisher and given the support and marketing it truly deserves in traditional publishing. Well done to this talented author!

So there you go, trumpet well and truly blown.

Check it out on the Amazon links above - you’ve got nothing to lose but a giggle!

Now also available in paperback at Lulu. 

A Stick of Brighton Rock

How many people have you met in your life who you believe are good, through and through?  The type who don’t seem to have a nasty bone in their body.

You must know who I mean - those who you can’t imagine ever having a bad word to say about anyone, but will always see the good in people.

I bet you can count them on less than one hand.

Let’s be honest, most of us have our bitchy side.  I don’t claim to be perfect (far from it!) and I’m often guilty of making a comment about someone (known or unknown) that should possibly have stayed inside my head and never been voiced.

But then you meet those who you know never think badly of anyone.  What a lovely way to live a life. To find yourself in a place where you always see the best - to never judge, criticise or snipe but just accept others for what they are.

I would say that my lovely husband comes pretty close to one of these types but I’ve heard the comments he’s made on the hugeness of somebody’s bottom or the fact that a particular person should never have worn their chosen outfit.  So, sorry hubbie, not ‘nil point’ but possibly ‘sept points’ for niceness.

If we’re talking ‘dix points’ for perfection, I’ve met two of the species - an aunt and an in-law (who I’m not prepared to give any further description of, for fear of embarrassment!)

My aunt has sadly passed away now but I can’t remember her ever uttering a nasty word.  She glowed with ‘niceness’. She giggled through life, and not in a dippy, girly way - she was just quite simply kind, decent and content with herself and others.

My in-law is a quiet person.  They ooze peace and love.  Their presence is calming and silently wise.  A nod of their head can speak volumes.

Oh, for their inner calm and non-judgmental outlook.

Logically thinking, who are we to judge others?  What gives us the right to comment on another’s life or their choices?  Why should we clutter our brains with others’ decisions - whether that’s something as simple as a dodgy outfit or as complicated as drug or alcohol abuse?

Perhaps we all need to remember the quote from ‘To Kill A Mocking Bird’: “You never really know a man until you stand in his shoes and walk around in them.”

Would this make us all more forgiving and tolerant of one another if we took this on board?

I know in my heart that I go through life always doing the best that I can by people (and I still find myself in trouble).  I have the occasional bitch but deep down I believe I’m a kind person with a good heart.

I’d still like to be one of the ‘dix points’ group though and, just like a piece of Brighton Rock, have pure ‘niceness’ running right through the core of me.

Where would you put yourself on the scale and how many of the type do you know?

Diary of a Mummy Misfit is available at Amazon for Kindle.  Now also in paperback at Lulu.

Mushy Brain Days

As I’ve now started work on my second novel, I realise that there are some days when I sit down to write that I could carry on for hour upon hour.  The storyline has written itself and is desperate to get itself out of my head and on to the laptop.  Some nights I have to force myself to stop and go to bed or I would find myself tippy-tapping into the wee small hours.

These are the days I love.  The days I’ve learnt to nurture and cherish.

Because not every day is like that.

There are the days when my brain feels like treacle, words won’t put themselves in order, characters won’t behave and as for the plot - forget it!

I used to panic when I had these days - what if I’d lost the knack and it never came back to me?  But of course the more you panic the more damage you do - beating yourself up never helps to produce more words.

So I quite simply accepted that there are days when it flows and days when it doesn’t - the ‘Bunged-Up Days’.  Once I’d had my epiphany, I realised the importance of making the most of the ‘Flowing Days’ because I never know when I’ll hit the next blip.

I guess I was lucky writing the Misfit Diary because I rarely had a day that I struggled.  It was written in three months but then, of course, took many months of editing and re-writing - it really felt as if it wrote itself and I was just a channel for it.

My next novel isn’t a diary and is slightly weightier in characters and plot, so there are times when I just find the whole process quite daunting.  A book is a huge amount of work.  How did I ever write one in the first place?  The trouble is, once you’ve been bitten by the bug, there’s no getting away from it.

So when I hit the ‘Bunged-Up Days’ what do I do?  If any of you writers out there can identify with some of these diversionary tactics, I’d be grateful if you’d let me know - I’m sure I’m not the only one.

1.. Sit at laptop and look out of window.  Mmm, nice pigeon.

2  Hover fingers over keyboard and wait for the ‘Writing Fairy’ to visit.

3  Look up to see if pigeon has gone yet.

4  Realise coffee is cold and make way to kettle.

5  Clean work surface - this always makes me feel virtuous.

6  Take coffee back to laptop and hover hands again.

7  Type a line, re-read it, delete.

8  Realise coffee is no good without a bar of chocolate.

9  Go to cupboard to get chocolate and feed cat while there.

10  Talk to cat.

11  Feed other cat.

12  Talk to other cat.

13  Return to laptop and find that ‘Writing Fairy’ is still not visiting.

14  Go to loo for inspiration and change of scenery.

15  Wander the house aimlessly, scratching head and cursing.

16  Decide to put some washing on.

17  Go through notes to see if they deliver any clues as to what the hell I should be doing.

18  Start a very intricate doodle and then realise that half of it covers my notes for chapter three.

19  Check Twitter for messages.  Then Facebook.  Then Amazon sales.  Then Hotmail.

20  Realise that today is just not my day!

Come on writers, please, tell me that you too have days like this and keep me company.  Must dash now as I truly believe that Chapter three is calling - straight after I’ve made a cup of coffee!

‘Diary of a Mummy Misfit’ is a tale of not belonging.  Check it out on Amazon and read my reviews too.  Now also available in paperback at Lulu.

Losing my Connection

I’ve had the same mobile for six years and I love it.

Being a technophobe, once I get used to a piece of equipment I stick with it.  My tiny, battered Samsung fliptop does everything I need it to do so why would I want to upgrade?

My son’s always telling me I should get a new one that has apps but, unless it’s going to cook the dinner and do the cleaning, I’m not interested.

I know people who change their mobiles as regularly as they change their knickers and I just don’t get it.  Why put yourself through all the stress of transferring over all your contacts and learning how to use a new phone when the one you’ve got works perfectly well?

I don’t see a mobile as a fashion statement or believe it tells anyone anything about me.  Perhaps I’m wrong there and it’s actually screaming at everyone “Look, middle-aged fuddy duddy who can’t be bothered to move with the times!”

But we have a history, me and my Samsung.  ‘He’ remembers the time I drove out of a supermarket car park with him on top of the car and he lived to tell the tale.

I remember the time he decided to come in the bath with me and, when hubbie heard me screaming and ran into the bathroom, he was being flipped out of the bubbles like a fish and floated through the air until he landed with a thud on the bath mat.

He remembers an awfully long stint of the hair-dryer blowing onto his little nooks and crannies to dry him out and then an overnight sleep in the airing cupboard to finish the job off.

I remember a sleepless night because he might not survive the trauma and that would mean a new phone buddy for me.

He remembers waking up in the airing cupboard feeling pretty clean and, after a shaky start, springing back into action.

I remember the relief and never allowed him to share my bathtub again.

Yep, it’s a marriage made in heaven.  We click and we’re together until the end of time (his or mine!).

Or so I thought …

We were buying a Blackberry skin for a gift the other day when my son spotted a phone deal which equated to the same deal that I’m on now … except … you got a free Kindle with it!

This was enough to have me contemplating mobile divorce.  A Kindle?  I’m a Kindle writer and a massive reader and yet I don’t own one.  I long for a Kindle.  I looked at my little mobile’s face and thought ‘This is the end.  Got to move on, I’m afraid.  Wooh-hoo, and get myself a Kindle!”

The very nice gentleman talked us through the plan and I listened guiltily, unable to believe what I was contemplating.

All was looking great until he mentioned the fact that I would need to check my contract arrangements with my current phone provider.

That’s when things got messy.  One call later, I found out that it would cost me nigh on four hundred pounds to be released from my current plan.  I could buy nearly four Kindles with that!

Now, as I look at my mobile’s smug little face, I know we’re stuck together for another year and he’s stood in the way of me and my Kindle.

Mobile divorce … messy and expensive!

Diary of a Mummy Misfit is available at Amazon for Kindle.  Now also in paperback at Lulu.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Kids say some funny things, don’t they?

Like most parents we can recall the funniest and often have a good giggle at them.

Here is a selection of our best:

When our son was about 18 months he disappeared from the sitting room and then came back stark naked apart from wellington boots and a tie hanging loosely round his neck saying, “Daddy go work now!”  My husband had never gone to work looking like that!

At 20 months I’d spent a couple of weeks telling him that it would be Daddy’s birthday soon.  Imagine our surprise when we woke up on the morning of hubbie’s birthday and our son was there with his arms around his dad’s neck smiling into his face and saying “’appy birday daddy.”  The best present ever.

At his two-year check up with the health visitor, when she asked him to pass her a crayon, he refused until she said ‘Ta’.

His nickname for Father Christmas was ‘Ho-Ho-Ho’ and, when we saw a particularly woolly dog in the park, he said “Look Mummy, got beard like Ho-Ho-Ho!”

At about two he realised that he could be sad if he missed someone.  To him this also meant ‘wanting’ them and he would often substitute the word.  So it was quite logical for him to say, “Miss Nanny, miss Uncle Gerry, miss ice-lolly!”

From about the age of three he’d disappear into the loo, get bits of toilet paper and roll them into a ball with water.  He’d then line them up on the radiator to dry and say “Don’t touch my hard yottles!”  Within a few days they’d dry out like solid pellets and be stored in a bowl.  For what purpose?  Who knows, but ‘yottles’ were such an important part of his life he still talks about them fondly to this day.

We bought my mum a beautiful carriage clock for a special birthday and, when she asked us where we’d bought it, our son piped up “The Pound Shop!”  We hadn’t, it was just that an awful lot of our things did come from there.

Dropping his toys on the floor when he was about three, he bent to pick them up and said “Shit!”  Then added “Oh dear!” as he realised he shouldn’t have said that word.  I’ve never heard him swear since - really!

One afternoon he spotted a huge spider in the kitchen.  By the time he’d told me it was there, it was too late for me to catch and release it (I’m not a killer).  The next day I also saw a spider in the kitchen and asked my son if he thought it might be the same one.  “What did it look like?” he asked me.  I made a really mean looking face and curled both hands up in to spidery looking legs. “Yep, that was him!” my son shouted.

His first nursery buddy came from a rather well-to-do family with a massive house.  When the child entered our home for the first time he very abruptly said “Your house is very small!”  So what did my four year old son do?  Stored that piece of info in his little brain and, when we were invited back to the ‘mansion’, clearly stated “Your house is very dusty!”

After a week in Reception, he came home and said “If they make me write the letter ‘W’ one more time, I’m not going back.”  They moved him up an academic year soon after that.

At about the age of five he told me that he’d picked me as his mummy when he was floating around on the cloud he lived on before he was born.  He also said that he remembered that his daddy and my sister where there when he was born, waiting for him to come out.  Spooky!

At fifteen he continues to entertain us with his wit and he never fails to find the opportunity for a pun.  Our own little ‘in-house’ comedian.

What funny things have your kids said?

Diary of a Mummy Misfit is available at Amazon for Kindle.  Now also in paperback at Lulu.