The Magic Of Books

pile of books

Photo by Heather Godfrey

Dreaming The Moon was officially released on 14th February and I’m still dancing on air! Even now I can’t quite believe that there’s an actual official real paperback with my name on it. Much as e-books have transformed the way we can access and read stories, there’s something about a proper book with pages and a cover. Maybe I’m old fashioned but that’s a piece of magic right there.

Because that’s what books are, aren’t they? Little bits of magic that transport us away from our lives for a while and into someone else’s landscape, some other person’s quest or dilemma, an alternate existence with a new point of view. Whether it’s a light, quick read or something deep and challenging, every story will teach us something. And the best ones will resonate with us long after we’ve finished them, the characters staying in our heads, making us think. A change occurs when we read a book, often so subtle we may not really even notice it. But it’s there. We may learn something. Realise something. Understand or empathise more than we did before. Find something that piques our interest or leads us down a new road. Or simply gives us a good laugh and leaves us feeling uplifted.

Every book is an adventure. Each new author is a risk, but also a guide along an untrodden path. Still, the same can be said for life in general, so, if you fancy your next adventure with a new guide, click on the ‘buy my books’ icon at the top of the page and see the wonderful range waiting for you at Magic Oxygen.

Come along and meet me in Lyme Regis

It’s nearly release day and the excitement is building! I’ll be at The Hub on Saturday 14th February from 11:00am with lots of other authors as we launch our new books into the big wide world. Come down and see us and in the meantime have a play with this fabulous heart created by web wizard and widget magician Simon West. It will take you on an adventure all it’s own.

Izzy

Editor’s Perks

Somewhere in an alternate universe far, far away…

As you know, I hate writing! And I also loathe reading! So don’t you feel sorry for me, having to read amazing new books and make editorial suggestions to earn a few pennies? Oh, the trauma…

Meanwhile, back in the real world (whatever that is)…

I have been privileged to have been given the opportunity to edit three absolutely cracking new books over the last few months, and they are all due out on very soon. So here’s a little summary of each to tempt you.

‘The Dreamer’ by Sue Hampton

The Dreamer Front coverThis children’s book, set long ago and far away, is a green allegory encompassing adventure and fairy tale. Moro, a rich, heartless landowner holds a village in his power, but it isn’t enough. Lark, the mute peasant girl, can never please her father however hard she works. She finds solace in carving animals from clay and wood, her art frequently destroyed by her bullying brother. Her friend Fedor, the lame goatherd, never understood why his father left and still hopes he will return. The pair befriend The Dreamer, an old blind man who lives alone on the mountain. He introduces them to the magical world in his crystal story bowl and the myth of the Flower Bird. Their world falls apart when Moro obtains the bowl and – coveting the crystal which lies behind the waterfall – wreaks havoc on the mountain. As greed threatens to destroy the life of the village, can two children and a blind man find the courage and resources within themselves to stand up and lead the way to a better future?

The Empire of Evil by Gordon Strong

The Empire of Evil Front coverMagic is a paradox, one that can never be fully resolved. Within other worlds are mysteries beyond the imagination. It is these extraordinary realms that our psychic investigator willingly explores. Standley-Strange, arch magus, scholar and man-of-the-world is saved from becoming an eternal recluse by a surprise visitor.

Vivacious Cyndi flees to England from a dangerous darkness in America, her intuition guiding her unerringly to the very door of Standley-Strange! He offers her shelter and they speedily become magical allies when Standley-Strange is called to the aid of Debroneth, a Medieval province, inexplicably manifested in another dimension. The magus vows to protect its people from the ravages of the Evil Empire, but must also face his own challenges when he confronts the Emperor Tortius and Bredon Shaft, his vicious Chief Inquisitor.

Treachery, tyranny and a ruthless desire for power are the hallmarks of the Empire. Add in a lost lady, a magical minstrel, kidnapping, rebellion and multiple dimensions and the ride is set to be anything but smooth.

Blind Cupid by Max Brandt

Blind Cupid Front coverNick Sloane has a moral compass that no one understands but him. The last thing he needs is a touchstone that hurls it into confusion.

Simon Nicholson’s job at Freeways children’s home is tough, fighting on the front line of child abuse cases and coping with the fallout from neglect. The last thing he needs is one of his youngsters disappearing.

DCI Montgomery Flute has dark memories that are interfering with his work. It’s almost a year to the day that his life-partner, Tom, committed suicide and the last thing he needs .is a complex murder enquiry throwing fuel onto a fire that’s already burning him up.

The discovery of a tortured body in an isolated spot turns out to be an ex-resident of Freeways. Dark secrets from all their pasts are being skilfully woven together by a calculating killer. It’s the very last thing anyone needs; especially the children.

These titles will launch, with others, at a wonderful event in Lyme Regis on 14th February. Find out more here. http://www.magicoxygen.co.uk/

A Plethora of New Books

MOLP 2015 Front CoverOn Valentine’s Day I will be in the auspicious company of six other authors and our wonderful publishers Tracey and Simon West , for the official release of our books plus the Magic Oxygen Literary Prize Anthology 2015.

There will be a ‘Meet the Author’ event at the Hub in Lyme Regis, as part of the Lyme Regis Literary Festival, where you can come and chat to Max Brandt, James Dunford-Wood, Sue Hampton, Chris Hill, Rob Windsor, Gordon Strong and me, and have a look at our books (an eclectic mix catering for all tastes!)

Following that will be the announcement of the winners of the Magic Oxygen Literary Prize. This new and ground breaking competition with two categories (short stories and poems) planted a tree for every entrant in the competition (800 trees so far). The winning and shortlisted entries are included in the anthology, and another tree will be planted for each copy sold – and having been lucky enough to be on the judging panel for the Prize, I can assure you that this is not a book you want to miss! Brilliant stories and poems all, they will make you smile, weep and gasp.

The event will be starting at 11 a.m. For more details, go to  http://www.magicoxygen.co.uk/contact/   and drop the team a line. Keep an eye on their website too. Hope to see you there.

Dreaming the Moon release date

So… it’s 2015! Happy New Year! It’s already shaping up to be an exciting one and we’re still only in January! One of the most exciting things for me is the publication of my first novel, coming out in paperback on 14th February.

picture of moon over seaCalled ‘Dreaming The Moon’, it’s a fantasy story set in Cornwall (a land of mystery and magic itself) where Robyn, an ordinary girl haunted by strange dreams, discovers that not only is there another hidden, magical world linked to our own, but that the barrier between the two is failing fast and she is the key to restoring it and preventing the forces of darkness from overrunning both realms. With everyone in danger and everything she loves at risk, can she and her friends outwit the malevolent creatures sent to stop them and fix the shield before all is lost?

Here’s a taste:

By the time Robyn fell into bed that night it was past midnight, and she was exhausted. She curled up under the duvet and dropped into a deep sleep.

It was dark – intensely, terrifyingly dark. The barest sliver of a new moon illuminated a silver thread of sea in the distance, but where she stood the blackness was total and heavily oppressive. Just moving through it was like walking through treacle. She stumbled forward, desperately trying to see something, anything. A branch caught her arm, making her jump, and she stumbled again, feeling her way but not seeming to move anywhere. Eventually she stopped and looked around again, straining her eyes to pick out something familiar, some outline or shape. But she could see nothing except for the narrow ribbon of sea far ahead of her, hear nothing except her own ragged breath. Everything around her was perfectly and absolutely still. She tried again to move, slowly easing her way toward the silvered water, concentrating hard so as not to lose her footing in the inky darkness. And despite the silence, the stillness, the sense of isolation, she was acutely aware that someone or something was watching her.

Magic Oxygen Literary Prize

Kundeni Schoolchildren holding saplingsWell, that was an unbelievably busy six weeks! Incredibly exciting and very productive, but leaving me barely time to sneeze, which is a good thing really since it’s kept me (mostly) out of mischief. Such interesting projects with some very talented people, and more of those soon, but first, amazing news about the Magic Oxygen Literary Prize.

As many of you may know by now MOLP is a competition for short stories and poems, and Tracey and Simon West, founders of Magic Oxygen Publishing, decided that a tree would be planted for every entry received, very much in tune with their green ethos. Working with Ru Hartwell, a reforestation expert, the Magic Oxygen Word Forest will be planted in Bore, Kenya, and will provide a long term resource for the community. There will also be some funds given to help rebuild the schoolhouse, which at the moment is not secure or adequate for the 300 children that attend.

The response to the competition has been beyond expectation, with entries coming in from all over the world; 31 countries when it finally closed on 30 November! The judging is soon to begin and the winners will be announced at the Lyme Literary Festival in February 2015, with the winners and short-listers being published in an anthology.

It’s been huge amount of work for the team at Magic Oxygen, and I know how much effort has gone in from everyone involved. But what’s really great is that not only have so many writers been encouraged to grab their creativity by the horns and do what they do best – WRITE – there is a tangible and lasting legacy for people and planet. And what could be better than that?

Magic Oxygen – powered by sunshine and creativity.

Truth Won’t Die – New Song For Halloween

Halloween GraveyardIt’s Halloween!! Also called Samhain and my favourite festival of the year, the night when the veil between realms is thinnest and magic feels close enough to touch. The night when anything is possible…

And to celebrate that and also the fact that it’s a year since my first title ‘When Joe Met Alice’ was published (now that was a magical day!) I am honoured and very proud to be party to the release of Truth Won’t Die, the song from the story.

I may have written the lyrics but the song as a whole was written and performed, mixed and Jedmastered by my son Jed. He took my words and a couple of suggestions that I made as to the direction that Joe would have taken them in, and has come up with a song that is just perfectly in tune with the story. (Yes, pun intended, sorry Jed!).

It has taken him hours of painstaking work. I don’t think most of us realise, when we listen to a song, just how much time, care and attention to detail goes into the creation of it. From the development of the melody and the guitar riffs, the keyboards and additional effects, the vocal line and accompanying harmonies, and of course the bass line and the drums that are the glue which holds it all together; each is created separately but written to fit into a perfect whole.

Then the recording; Jed put the drum track down using a keyboard and some specialist sequencing software then recorded keyboards, bass, rhythm guitar, lead guitar, lead vocals and lastly backing vocals, each in separate tracks layering on top of the drums. He played and sang all the tracks himself, a pretty impressive achievement, and mixed and mastered it afterwards. I’d like to say a huge thank you to him for all his work, and also thank his friend George Hunt for acting as studio engineer when Jed was doing the vocals.

So below is the link to Soundcloud; enjoy Truth Won’t Die. And as you light your candle this Samhain let it feed your inner flame and open up the magic inside.

https://soundcloud.com/jed-robertson/truth-wont-die-single-version

Just One Of Those Days

washing machine symbol

 

Ever had one of those days when it seems that all machinery is out to get you, all electronics are conspiring against you and the world in general is having a laugh at your expense? A bit like this:

 

The washing machine ate my jumper

The computer just wouldn’t play

The shower packed up

And the car broke down

What the heck’s going on today?

 

And then other days you wake up to sunshine (real and metaphorical) and the world gives you a big hug and shows you something like this:lavender

 

There are jewels in the lavender.

A flock of greenfinches are

Having breakfast.

Intent on their fluttery purpose, they are

Stripping the heads with glee

Soft jade among the amethyst.

We watch without breathing

Entranced

And then suddenly

They are gone.

 

Everyday magic both, but one definitely preferable to the other. I try and take mental snapshots of moments of wonder like these on sunshiny days; then when everything is going pear shaped they help to remind me that things will get better. Along with a little cathartic swearing and a nice cup of tea, they’re a good way of restoring balance.

A Song From When Joe Met Alice

When Joe Met Alice coverI can hardly believe that it’s almost a year since my first short e-book ‘When Joe Met Alice’ was published and appeared on digital shelves in virtual bookstores across the web. I still remember the sheer excitement of seeing the story I had written out there in the public domain; thrilling and scary at the same time. But it certainly spurred me on and the characters for other tales have been kind enough to wander into my head and say hi. They’ve kept me busy and have resulted in one novel that will be coming out early next year and another that is still a work in progress. Magic Oxygen have also published my second short e-book ‘Catching Up With the Past’. All in all, a fairly eventful twelve months on the literary front.

So, how to celebrate? Well, I am lucky to have a creative family and both my sons are very into music; playing, writing and listening. I was talking to Jed (older son, 16) about song writing and asked if he’d ever consider writing music for an existing set of lyrics. When he said yes, I asked him if he would write something for the lyrics at the end of ‘When Joe Met Alice’ and he agreed.

He’s been working away at it for some time now; writing the music, then sequencing the drum track and recording the keyboards, bass, rhythm and lead guitars and vocals (all of which he played/sang himself). Called Truth Won’t Die, it’s almost finished and you will be able to listen to it from a link here a little closer to Halloween. I’m as excited about this as I was when the story came out.

So watch this space, and perhaps if you’re wondering why Halloween is relevant, you might like to pop over to the Magic Oxygen shop to get your copy of “When Joe Met Alice”. And while you’re there, check out the other fantastic titles they have.

Third Runway – a short story

Photo of oak tree

Photo by David Tucker

The oak stood, remembering; slow memories rising from deep within, flowing like sap to nourish branches, bark, roots and leaves. It recalled its embryonic acorn self, saved from the forest floor by the son of a farmer, who carried it over his heart until his love agreed to marry him. How he and his new wife had planted it tenderly in the field where they would build their house, and how it had thrived in the rich earth and put down roots as they did.

It grew with their children and grandchildren and countless generations since; was glad when it was tall enough to shelter them. Joy coursed through it when people sat beneath the boughs to laugh and chatter, to whisper secrets and stories or just leaned back against its rough trunk to dream. Humans were full of mysteries and tales of far away lands, strange creatures, heroes, villains and thrilling adventures. Sometimes it felt a great longing to wander and see. Most of the time it was content to stand and watch, its presence giving comfort and stability to those around it. It watched as the tiny hamlet became a village and the village grew into a town. Observed as the garden it knew became the local green, with houses and roads ranged around.

It saw the old forest slowly cut down to make room for new buildings.

The oak shivered – the loss of its kindred left it saddened. And yet it endured, instilled with a deep peace from the earth and taking solace from the stories of the lives around it. Even as the other trees were lost and the green spaces dwindled and the concrete spread, it was content. Even as the horses became few and the cars multiplied and the developments obscured the sky and the air became heavy and toxic, it could still feel the healing power of the earth.

Yet sometimes, as it watched the humans, especially the children, it wondered. About how lovely it would be to run and laugh and jump and climb, free of roots and cares and the weight of change. About exploration. Discovery. Freedom.

It was glad of the children. It had seen so much change and they, although different, remained the same, full of laughter and love and questions and stories. Even now, as the adults became more angry and hardly stopped to draw breath, as its new roots struggled to find a path through concrete and tarmac, the children still came. As it stood on its tiny postage stamp of green, amid dark rumours of further destruction, it looked forward to the visits of the children. They, like it, knew nothing of business, profit margins, speculative investment and stimulus. They lived for the moment. And it understood observation, listening, stillness. Although now that was more difficult. So much light, noise, rush. So few of the wild creatures left.

The little girl was a good friend to the tree. She came almost every day, telling it what she’d done at school, at home, about her Mum and Dad and Gran and baby brother. She knew that the tree was her friend too, and so she told it secrets – how she had fallen out with her best friend and how when she was grown up she was going to discover an entirely new species of dinosaur. One day she was upset. ‘Dad says we might have to move,’ she said. ‘Everyone who lives round here. They want to build a new runway so more planes can fly in. So they have to knock down all the shops and houses. But I don’t know where we’ll go. Or you. Where will you go?’

The tree didn’t know. Trees don’t usually go anywhere. But fleetingly it wondered. ‘Could I?’

It was no more than a passing thought to begin with. It could not believe that the humans would destroy all that they had created. But there was anger tainting the air, tension tightening like bands around the community. The people marched and shouted and waved banners and signed petitions.

And then the girl said ‘They won’t stop. We all have to move.’

The tree watched the huge yellow machines in the distance as they ate the buildings away, leaving rubble and clouds of dust. They came closer frighteningly fast, the landscape flat and lifeless behind them. It could feel the rumbling shock waves of destruction as it moved its roots in the soil, but even that gave no comfort. All it could taste was bitterness.

When only the last few rows of houses stood between it and demolition, the girl came for the last time. She wept. ‘We have to go, they’re going to knock our house down. You have to go too. Please go, tree. So I’ll know you’ll be safe.’

Her tears fell on the roots of the oak as it stood, and it waved gently as she left, even though there was no breeze. A deep sadness flowed through it. And as it stood that night, alone with a few desolate houses and the drone of aircraft and traffic and the urban sky-glow hiding the stars and dimming even the moon, it surveyed the emptiness that had once been full of life.

‘Go.’ The realisation rippled through it.

‘Nature alone holds power, yet humans seek control. But they cannot control what they do not understand and that will be their destruction.’

It reached its being deep into the earth for strength and wisdom. Then, with mighty force that shook the ground for miles, it tore its roots free of the cancerous ground and set off in search of a better place.