The Curmudgeon Avenue Series Trailer

The Curmudgeon Avenue series is currently three books.

Book One (The Terraced House Diaries) available here UK and here US

Book Two (The Harold and Edith Adventures) availablhere UK and here US

Book Three (Edna and Genevieve Escape From Curmudgeon Avenue) available here UK and here US

Book Four is being written at the moment The Ghosts of Curmudgeon Avenue will be published at the end of October 2019.

I think the trailer captures the comedy-drama of the series, so I won’t say anything else!

Happy reading and trailer watching, Samantha xx

Copyright J&E Productions 2019


On Achieving a Distinction in The Creative Writing Module of My Degree.

Hello everyone, and thank you for joining me on my monthly ‘writerly ramblings’ blog post., (yes I made that word up!)

Yesterday, I was thrilled to bits to receive an overall score of 82% in the creative writing module of my degree. I have no words, I have regained my self-worth.

Achievable, I would say because I am studying with the Open University. The teaching and support is first class. I don’t need to leave my house. I only work when I feel up to it, (I have to pace myself ALL the time because of fatigue). I can turn the computer off if I get a headache, or if my eyes start hurting, and so on. I won’t go on about MS, you won’t meet two people who have the condition with the same symptoms, and impetuously worded conversations around it can become rather tiresome.*

When I was forced to give up nursing six years ago due to having MS, I went through a very difficult time. This is part of my (non-fiction) story.  When I started writing ‘full-time’ an ex-colleague commented ‘If you can do that, why can’t you still work?’ Not the case, and not the point either, it was not my decision to leave work, and it was not my fault that I have this chronic condition.

You can see why I am nervous about celebrating my good news, but the point I am trying to make is, this is me now. There is hope, it is possible to dig yourself out of a hole, and if you happen to be reading this post because you have searched ‘writing inspiration’ then I am saying to you ‘JUST GO FOR IT’. Writing will give you SO MUCH.

Writing for me is not just a case of my legs don’t work like they used to so now I have to do something different. I write because I love it. I love reading, I love escaping into a different world and I love that I can write and escape into another world too. And I am studying writing because my husband (correctly) suggested ‘why don’t you learn your trade?’

I write because it feels like this is what I should be doing.

Getting a good result has been an added bonus, I have learnt so much during this module which will hopefully feature in further blog posts – in particular, that ‘writing what you know, doesn’t mean writing what you know (about)’. That blew my mind, and I was very pleased to learn it. I don’t think J K Rowling knew about how to be an eleven-year-old wizard, and Stephen King did not know how to be a menstrual teenager but they still wrote about what they could see, smell, taste, imagine etc – this is what you know – AS A HUMAN.

On reflection, I have learnt that I am ‘safe’ in my writing style, this is what I’ll be working on next – although I cannot promise any sex scenes in my series Curmudgeon Avenue!

I must also add to why I am able to ‘achieve’; I am in a good place, I have an amazing, supportive husband not only in what he says but he makes life easy for me. Doing the shopping, the garden, walking the dog, anything. My daughter is the funniest person I know and, she has grown up! She has a fab job and lives with her lovely boyfriend. (in other words, I don’t have small children to look after!)

Edna and Genevieve cover_000Featured Image -- 1533This is the Curmudgeon Avenue series


Happy reading and writing everybody! Samantha xx

PS, the picture is from WordPress’ free photo library, I have a while to go before I graduate. 🙂

Work in Progress (Another Short Story Collection)

Happy Wednesday everyone, and thank you for joining me on my monthly writerly rambling post.

Today I would like to talk about a very exciting WIP,  The Grit and the Wit. 

This is about to be a fantastic short story collection written half by my writer friend Maggie Melville and half by me (we are thinking of alternating the stories).

Maggie and myself met at Whitefield library about five years ago, when we had joined a creative writing class. We all used to read our stories out, Maggie’s were always brilliant and somewhat ‘gritty’ compared to mine.

Image may contain: one or more people and glasses

So far, Maggie has written a heart-wrenching story involving a boat and a story about a young girl from the point of view of her mother. It’s chilling, trust me. I can’t wait to read the finished product (no pressure, Maggie!)

I am still writing and polishing mine. So far I have a story about a mantel-piece clock passing judgement on the house owner. One about the Orangemen march in Southport and one about a tom-cat with several owners.

Interestingly, we are both thinking of a garden-themed story. There is so much you can do with gardening – which reminds me, the recent rain in Manchester has sprouted many, many weeds on my front path …

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Photo by Jack Hawley on


No doubt, I will be telling you all about the progress of our project over the next few months. Do not worry, the fourth book in the Curmudgeon Avenue series ‘The Ghosts of Curmudgeon Avenue’ is also on the way.

Now for a snippet of one of the short stories about a KISS fan and a cancelled concert:

     When I get back on the tram, I am joined by some day time drinkers on their way home. The noise has returned, but I don’t feel like talking after what I’ve just read. A bloke about my age wearing trainers and a Happy Mondays T-shirt breaks away from his mates and sits next to me.

     ‘You ok, love?’ He says, taking a sip of his can of beer. I say nothing. ‘Sorry, it’s just that you look sad, I thought I’d better say hello, make sure you’re alright.’

     ‘Yes, I’m… I’m sorry’ I don’t know what to say. The bloke shouts to one of his mates, who turns out to be his brother.

     ‘Brother! Bruv! Got any more cans in your pockets? This lady…’ He gives me a sideways glance as if to double check I’m female… ‘She needs a can of beer to cheer her up!’

One of them shouts over, pulling his fingers and thumb into the sign of the horns.

      ‘Aww it got cancelled didn’t it?’ Like we’ve got something in common. They all come and pile on the seats around me. They’ve been to a tribute do for the victims. I feel even more guilty now. The first bloke puts his arm around me, and my hair gets tangled in my studded jacket.

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll cheer you up. We are from Manchester, and this is what we do, innit?’


We will keep you posted, happy writing and reading everyone. See you next month for my next writerly-rambling. Here is a picture of some flowers from my garden:


Samantha xx

A Few Words on Self-Editing, Mistakes and Muscles.

Hello everyone and thank you for joining me on my monthly ‘writerly’ type blog post. This month, I am reflecting on self-editing, this is not a blow-by-blow guide, I just wanted to share my thoughts.

Me, as a reader is the same person as me the writer, I don’t have different hats or faces. Maybe I should though… I read voraciously, and have entered the self-publishing party – I would say the majority of what I read is independently published. When I first started looking into publishing back in 2016 I did a fair amount of research. I read a book where the word ‘fifty’ had been written as ‘fivety’ (I’ve change this a bit so to not identify anyone) and spotted various other mistakes, none of these put me off the book I was reading. Actually some of the authors I started reading in 2016 are now very successful. Even in traditionally published books, I quite enjoy spotting a mistake. Did this set a standard though? I shouldn’t judge my writing by my own reading. Most readers don’t like to see mistakes (and rightly so).

When I wrote my first self-published book, Piccalilly, I initially put it out there ‘just to see what it was like’ I was testing the waters. Don’t get me wrong, I put great care into this story, especially as it was loosely based on my mum’s side of the family. I foolishly relied on the spell checker on the self publishing platform, after all, I was just testing the waters… but before I had the chance to make myself a celebratory cup of tea… a two star review popped up on Goodreads. Oh I know that on Goodreads this means something like ‘It was OK’ and yes, authors are putting themselves out there but this was my first ever review, although it wasn’t even a review it was a rating. No words to give me a clue as to why my first ever book had failed so miserably. At the time I had decided that my way of working would be to read the book on my Kindle in order to spot the mistakes. I don’t do that now. I finished my celebratory cup of tea, dusted myself down and re-read my own book. I found a few mistakes (and I mean a few) which I amended. I’m not changing the story though. Piccalilly was given a ‘Y’ at the end, because this was my nana Lilian’s nick-name and a new cover. It’s had seven five star reviews now phew!

I do it to much (sic). Identifying common mistakes is something that I should take my own advice about. I blame my fast fingers on the typewriter – oh I was a whizz in Mrs Hickson’s typewriting lessons. That was in the late 1980s though, things have changed with me. It’s my own stupid fault for pretending I don’t have MS… prone to the odd finger slip, too many times!

When I wrote ‘1962’ I enlisted the help of my dad. The book had been influenced by his love of cycling, plus he was alive in the year 1962 I was not. Yes, his knowledge of cycling in the 1960s was priceless. Dad is a person who likes to be told, not shown when reading a book, that is the opposite of how it should be. Months of me acting as the rebellious daughter showing rather than telling and Dad changing his mind about what happened in the 60s , I finally had finished the book (and that’s only half the story about things that got in the way with that one!) I’m not saying never work with a family member, but Dad has now told me that he never ever wants anything to do with my writing ever again! (He has read the three books I’ve published since 1962, however, phew!)

I’m in ever such a rush to write all the books I want to write. I need to slow down though. During the past few months, I have noticed that I have become increasingly scatter-brained. This has only resulted in silly mistakes. I have an irrational fear (hopefully) that I am starting with the cognitive decline associated with MS. I worry that I will wake up tomorrow in the worst cloud of brain fog and never recover. I can’t even read on temporary days like this. Spreading myself too thinly though is not the correct way of managing this problem.

It’s all good fun – until you trust one of those popular grammar software things. In my second book in series of the Curmudgeon Avenue series ‘The Harold and Edith Adventures’ I had wanted to say that my character Edith was up and down with her moods. One minute she was happy, the next her husband Harold entered the room and she was miserable… Anyway, I wanted to use the word ‘lability’ (constant changing of mood) and here was my mistake, this word was taken from the discourse community of psychiatric nursing; my former occupation. Spell checker or Grammarly or something changed this to ‘labiality’ (lips), and I believed it… It wasn’t until, six months later that a superstar reviewer noticed this, and sent me an email (A blog worth looking at here Against the Flow Press.) I was so pleased, she could have just left it and not bothered to tell me – I’ll be eternally grateful for her time. It was a hilarious blooper though. I’m still laughing about it now that Edith’s labia were available on Amazon for at least six months!

There is hope. The more you write, the better things get, and the more work you put in getting yourself ‘out there’ in the big wide world of books, the more people you’ll cyber-meet and they will be willing to help you. That said, you have to do things your own way, me for example, I can’t justify spending £1000 on an editor. Don’t take my advice, that’s my advice!

A final word on mussels. Mr Henthorn will do anything for me. He has, however been avoiding the idea of proof reading my books for me. That’s OK with me. The other day, he had promised to make me a delicious and romantic seafood linguine for our evening meal. I messaged him during the day to ask if we needed anything taking out of the freezer? Here is the single word reply I received:

‘Muscles’ xxx (!)

Join me same time next month for another ‘writerly’ rambling. Happy self-editing everyone! Samantha xx



My Routine! My Writing Routine!

Before Christmas, I met with Business Mentor expert Carl Bradshaw, available on Twitter at @CarlBradshaw (he has a fancy business name I think but this was they easiest way for me to mention him.) We spoke at length about routine and he also suggested blogging a ‘writerly’ type post every month. So here I am, in the third of this series I am blogging about writing routines!

This is what I do, and I’m only sharing this to make the point that finding out what works for you is a great way of managing your time and producing results. And by results, I mean books!

I do wake up fairly early. I have more energy in the morning, my husband gets up early and we have a dog and two cats. I have a quick scan of Facebook, Twitter and Instagram to see if there is anyone interesting to follow, any books that catch my eye, and occasionally to pop something on about my own books! (Why not? We all do it!)

Then I write a list of things I want to work on later. 

The above list is very important. In the morning, I have my ‘thinking head’ on. If I don’t complete my list, no problem it goes on the next day’s list. Then, and this is relevant to me personally, I spend some time on the programme my physiotherapist put together for me. I visit SP Therapy Services in Bury once a month at least this helps keep me ‘well’ enough to write.

Then I have a rest.

This is important to replenish energy and get me ready for the big event. Between the hours of one and three on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday is my writing time. Two hours may not sound like much but last November, for example, I got down a 50,000 word draft of book number three of the Curmudgeon Avenue series. I consult my list, which might include working on my Open University degree in Creative Writing, working on the next chapter, writing a blog post, or reviewing a book that I have finished reading.

Then it’s the end of the day!

Although I work from home, it is important, for lots of different reasons to stop writing/working change position and do all the other things that I haven’t mentioned. I try and keep any socialising to the weekend (without overdoing it, of course!)


Just to say

I am able to write full time because I had to give up nursing because I’ve got MS. It is a full time job on its own managing this. It has taken me years after I retired, for lots of different reasons to get into this routine, sometimes life gets in the way, for example, next week, I have three appointments during the week that will wear me out and stop me from writing. But I am in a better place, when I started writing , I was waking up during the  night, creeping downstairs and writing then. Now I’m not saying this is a bad thing, but it wasn’t right for me.

It was Roald Dahl that gave me the idea.

A few years ago, I watched a documentary about Roald Dahl. His wife said that he would lock himself away from 10am until 4pm every day and write. So it’s not just me recommending routine!

Tough Love Needs Me to Blog About Writer’s Block

I sometimes have too many ideas, I wouldn’t say this is a block as such. It’s like I cannot write quickly enough – and that’s the truth.

Ernest Hemingway famously maintained that it was bad luck to talk about writing. But it was alright for him- he was Ernest Hemingway! He had a point though; after two and a half years of self publishing and almost five years of writing full-time I know that it is more important to actually write than spending all day talking about it. And by talking, you must know I mean social media, not just writing groups. Dorothea Brande agrees in her 1934 book ‘Becoming A Writer’ (I am recommending this book) when she said that although talking about writing can be valuable, too much of it is draining (a paraphrase of a quote).

I would much rather write than talk, my goodness, there is so much out there on the internet and I feel it has put me at risk of THINKING I have writer’s block, and I don’t. Do you know, the other day I finished doing all the formatting nonsense on KDP for my latest book Edna and Genevieve Escape From Curmudgeon Avenue and then I wrote 31 first draft lines of a 40 line poem I have to write for my degree, and I still thought I ‘hadn’t written anything’ know what I mean?

Let’s find out what the experts say.

Larry W Phillips edited Ernest Hemingway on Writing this is a collection of diary entries and letters (Scriber 1984/2004) in it, Ernest Hemingway talks about some books being easy to write, some are like drilling rocks (not a direct quote). Thanks Ernest Hemingway, to me, that means GO FOR IT, sometimes it’s meant to be hard.

Stephen King hardly mentions writer’s block in his 2000 book On Writing from what I can glean. I read this book studiously three years ago and often return to parts of it. King talks about only experiencing true writer’s block when he was at university studying Creative Writing! His advice is to write anything you want to as long as you are honest (paraphrased quote) .

Dorothea Brande in her book I mentioned earlier talks about the ‘Artistic Coma’ again, this book is well worth reading. The Artistic Coma is about the importance of writers having time to dream- I love that, from that I took the notion that I am writing subconsciously, even when I’m not writing.

And what of the actual Creative Writing degree I am studying? The advice I have picked up, without directly quoting, is to leave your ambitions at the door when writing because they are not part of  the experience of writing itself. I felt a whole lot better after realising this.

What’s my advice? GO FOR IT. If life events sabotage your writing time that cannot be helped, but worry not because more than likely, you will be writing subconsciously when you are stuck in traffic, or some other distraction. Rejuvenate those creative brain cells, make sure you read loads and if you still can’t think of ‘something to write’, then tough love is telling me to tell you ‘don’t’ – well not today anyway…

Happy writing, Samantha



Alternative Resolutions

I know it’s not New Year’s exactly, but my point is, we have all year to fulfil what we resolve to achieve. And if I don’t write it down, then I won’t do it…

First off health. Not really alternative, it’s a common theme in January. I don’t have much to say except in December, I read a health book called ‘The Healing Point’ by James Lilley. I learnt loads, and as soon as I get over this two week cold (two weeks everyone) then I am going to try his tips on better sleep -magnesium. I can’t say more READ IT!

Second on the list is to finish and publish book three of the Curmudgeon Avenue series ‘Edna and Genevieve Escape From Curmudgeon Avenue’ just a few tweaks, and providing my final two readers don’t return to me with a ‘STOP! Don’t publish this nonsense!’ It should be with us at the end of January. Should anyone want a free ARC in return for a review, give me a shout (this version will be a download minus the first chapter of the next book).

Third, and something I’m really excited about, my writer friend Maggie Melville and myself are collaborating on a short story collection called ‘THE WIT AND THE GRIT’ . We have lots to do, the majority is written but there are decisions to be made and so on. Maggie is so talented she writes some really dark, gritty stuff (you know the kind you find in bestsellers?) And as you know, I write quirky bits of nonsense. WATCH THIS SPACE.

Blogging. I resolve to continue blogging, this year there will be a slight change, I’m still going to be as random as ever, but once a month, I am hoping to produce a ‘writing topic post’ you may have seen last week’s ‘Reviewing books; there is ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to be frightened of’ . In addition to this, I am hoping to serialise Curmudgeon Avenue into a weekly blog, I’ll have to give it a try because each chapter is 1000 words or thereabouts, possibly too long for a blog post but I’ve got nothing to lose.

Reading. Somehow, I have managed to accumulate over one hundred books on my to be read list. Ironically, as I finished ‘1984′ I realised that I had 101 books left to read. Mmm.

Well I think that’s quite enough for now, I quite like getting all rejuvenated in January.

Happy reading and writing,

Samantha xx


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Photo by Pixabay on

On NetGalley During December: The Harold and Edith Adventures.

The second book in the Curmudgeon Avenue series is on NetGalley during December, here is a free chapter :


Chapter 12: Babycham Barbara.

December had brought tacky tinsel to the windows of Whitefield. Patchouli’s hair was growing back, and in the meantime, Toonan had picked up a Father Christmas hat from one of the pound shops on the precinct, which would remain in situ on Patchouli’s head for the twelve days of Christmas and beyond.

One of Mrs Ali’s sons had been to the cash and carry to stock up his mother’s shop with Christmas goods. She might be the only establishment open when Christmas day arrives, so when I say Christmas goods, I am talking about cigarettes and so on. Not only was Mrs Ali everyone’s emergency angel on Curmudgeon Avenue, she also knew everyone, everything and occasionally, what was going to happen next.

‘Social media I can’t remember which one… now was it Facebook or Twitter? I can’t remember darling’ Mrs Ali was updating her display of ‘crisps that come in cardboard tube’ in her shop when Ricky Ricketts had called in for tobacco and tittle-tattle. In his hand, he had a Christmas card that had been addressed to Harold, the opening of which had caused his mother to hide in the under the stairs cupboard for a couple of days. The worst thing about it was that she was insisting that she is ‘fine’. After years of being in a relationship with Wantha, Ricky knew that when a woman says she is ‘fine’ this is code for ‘You have done something to upset me, usually flirting with another woman, so now I am sulking and imagining slicing your testicles off when you are asleep’. Now, Ricky did not care about Harold but say what you like about Ricky, if something was up with his mother, he would find out why. There is no internet signal in the under-the-stairs cupboard after all and if Ricky needed to borrow some money from Edith, he would need her to be out and about in the other rooms of Curmudgeon Avenue, with full access to internet banking.

‘This Christmas card arrived on the 30th of November. Don’t you think that’s weird sending a card that early? I mean, who is she?’

‘I don’t know darling, Christmas gets earlier each year. That’s why I can’t remember where she was asking if anyone knows Harold Goatshead, because it was a while ago’

‘What like a special group?’

‘Yes, Harold nearly went viral! People were commenting that they had seen him in all destinations, I was worried about that rumour Wantha started about the fraud investigator, so that’s why I commented and told her that Harold is living here, on Curmudgeon Avenue only as a single lodger. I definitely said he was single. You can’t be too careful darling’

‘Oh, yes and you’re naturally nosy too’ Ricky Ricketts said, as though this is a thing.

‘Yes, darling I am, and for that I am grateful, because now I own the most popular shop in Whitefield’ Mrs Ali sat on her favourite chair behind the counter and opened up a packet of dry roasted nuts. ‘Nut?’ She asked Ricky, who took a few of them out of the bag. Mrs Ali noticed his square fingernails with dirt behind them. ‘See you later, love’ Ricky said, making for the door.

‘Oh, before you go, I have seen that smartly dressed handsome man driving his well fancy car up and down Curmudgeon Avenue a few times this week’

‘Don’t tell my mum that!’

‘I can’t darling, she’s in her under-the-stairs cupboard!’ Mrs Ali said.

Back at number one Curmudgeon Avenue, Ricky now had the task of coaxing his mother out of the cupboard, even though she was ‘fine’. He opened the cupboards and started rustling about in them for biscuits, and dry roasted peanuts- more-ish they are. Nothing. Then he took an apple from the bowl, and bit into it as loudly as he possibly could with his stained rectangular teeth. Still Edith did not stir. Having realised that this kind of food stealing activity is usually associated with Harold, he opened the fridge door, and cracked open a can of cheap lager. ‘Ricky? Is that you love’ Edith squeaked from inside the cupboard.  Bingo! ‘Yes, mum it’s me. Do you want a cup of tea?’ No answer ‘Harold’s not here… I don’t know where he is’. Ricky said. Edith eventually emerged from under the stairs, her eyes squinting in the sunlight and slightly puffy from the worry (caused by Harold and the Christmas card). She put her mobile phone on the kitchen table. Ricky’s eyes widened. ‘I thought you said there’s no internet signal under the stairs’

‘You can get on Facebook. Thanks for the tea, love, Harold was meant to be taking me Christmas shopping today, but I don’t know where he is.’ Edith sat down and slurped the lukewarm yet stewed cup of tea that Ricky had made for her. ‘Eww’

‘That’s how Grandma used to make it!’ Ricky said. ‘Anyway, I’ve just been talking to Mrs Ali, and it was her that gave this Barbara woman Harold’s new address. I told you it would be nothing’

‘Mrs Ali?’ Edith said in disbelief, those who gossip to you will gossip about you after all.

‘Apparently this Barbara woman was looking for Harold on Facebook, but Mrs Ali said she was worried about that smartly dressed man, also looking for Harold, so she told Barbara he is your single lodger… Noting to worry about’ Ricky said, and Edith gasped a heart choking gasp. Her hand automatically reached for the screen of her phone, to reveal that, since Babycham Barbara had been looking for Harold, Edith, in turn, had been looking for Babycham Barbara. Stalking her open profile behind the mean screen. Ricky took the phone out of his mum’s hand and looked at the profile picture, which revealed the face of a woman that even Wantha would be intimidated by. A self-assured, overly made up face and gigantic breasts. Ricky scrolled down Babycham Barbara’s profile as though it was a top trumps card. Top trumps of cougars that is. Lives in: East Sussex. Work: Lady of Leisure. Relationship status: Widow. Most recent post: ‘Well, if my girls Tuscany and Savannah are off to New York for Christmas, then I’m off to visit an old friend in Manchester. Wish me luck!’

 Oh dear Edith, oh dear.

Book available here


The Mantel Clock

This time, a quarter to four is the time you’ll always see when you open that drawer. Batteries can’t save me now, I’ve even been replaced by a bigger better clock, with a shiny new face, but you’ve decided to keep me here – just in case. The drawer of shit you call it – I’m resting on a pile of old birthday candles and keys with no locks. Not to mention the medication you’re no longer prescribed and a miniature cactus plant waiting to die. I remember the day you made me your own. I was ‘free with your next order’ a marketing ploy, which was all the rage, twenty years ago before the recession took over. I arrived from Taiwan, you were going to present me as a gift for that woman at your works who was always late, but you couldn’t resist me in my shiny plastic case. I was glad of course; alarm clock gifts are always bad taste. I’ve been watching you around the clock ever since. Two houses later and I’m still here, although removed from on top of the fireplace. By the way, while we’re on the subject, next time you move, please don’t put me in the same box as the cups, saucers and knives.
Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years and decades, must be why you replaced me because I’m the one who can join you in your forlorn wonderings of ‘where did the time go?’ you’ve hidden me away but you can’t hide time, and you cannot hide your age, neither can I, I was getting slow. Over the time we had, I’d seen it all. The relationships you’ve had- there’s been a few. The hairstyles keeping in time with changing fashions. The different shapes and sizes you have been. The naked aerobics in the front room and in front of me, no thank you. I’ve only got one face, which is more than can be said for you. That friend of yours that doesn’t come around anymore, she’s scared of you, and the nasty things you do. Even a stopped clock is right twice a day, which is better than being wrong every time you open your mouth. You’d get Arabica coffee mixed up with Arrabiata sauce; your condescending laugh blew her right out of your life. Even if I could turn the clock back, you only flatter those who flatter you. Twenty four hours in every day, on my time sometimes slightly more, wound slightly fast for your daughter, who is always late but in a rush to start her life. The one you always blame for your tardy rudeness because you’re in denial of your own bad traits.
In the fullness of time, when you find yourself alone do not pick up the phone, I’m here in the drawer, at a quarter to four. Even after the way you are, how can you expect people to say ‘I’ve got time’.

Copyright Samantha Henthorn 2018.

My writing friend (who doesn’t know yet that I’m posting this) and myself are putting together a short story collection. Hopefully available soon. If you can’t wait, and need a short story collection, Quirky Tales to Make Your Day is available here

close up photography of alarm clock
Photo by on

Get to know your reader (they said).

Yesterday was my two year anniversary of self publishing, so as you might guess, I do a lot of internet browsing about the subject. I have read a few articles about ‘getting to know your reader’ I’m sure if you looked yourself, you would find the same or similar pages advising writers to find out about their readers, their likes and dislikes and so on. This is not one of those pages, I am sorry I don’t really have any straightforward advice… and neither did they… because no one tells you how to find out who your reader is! Here is how I have interpreted the advice, however; There is no point putting something out there that I don’t like, therefore if I like it, I am my reader! (And most of the time, I am the only person who reads my books!) Going with this notion, my reader must be a middle aged Mancunian with a sense of humour and fun. Also likes heavy metal. And dogs. And cats.  And reading most genres voraciously. But not exclusively, I wouldn’t want to leave anyone out…  Sigh… See, I told you I didn’t have any straightforward advice other than this: If you enjoy what you have written, then someone else will too, (probably me, I read loads)… so go for it! – I am!

Happy writing, Samantha