Are you awash with so many blogs, comps and sites to see, but oh-so little time? Making the most of the benefits that Displacement Activity can bring, I’ve listed a few here – my first little round up of some great sites out there, in case you haven’t heard of them before.

What are you waiting for? Come on in. The water’s lovely!

https://electricliterature.com
‘Expanding the influence of literature in popular culture by fostering lively and innovative literary conversations’ is what is says on their website. And they do!

https://selfpublishingadvice.org/book-marketing-how-to-reach-young-readers-through-book-festivals/
For self-publishers of children’s and YA books here’s an item on Book Marketing: How to Reach Young Readers through Book Festivals, courtesy of those clever clogs at Self Publishing Advice Centre, via the Alliance of Independent Authors

https://falwriting.com/new-blog/2017/11/3/portrait-of-the-academic-as-a-student-danielle-barrios-oneill
45 Things I Wish I Knew as an English Undergraduate. This is a great blog and should bring a smile to your face

https://writershq.co.uk/list-free-writing-competitions-enter-end-2017/
Some free-to-enter comps here from the crazy Let’s Do This Thang team at Writers HQ, so you can Aim High and Achieve.

http://www.scottishbooktrust.com/reading/book-lists/16-scottish-murder-mysteries
Like crime? The Scottish Book Trust have got some murderous villains all waiting to be set free

https://riggwelterpress.wordpress.com/about/
Rigg what? Exactly. You’d be daft not to submit.

https://thegullmagazine.wordpress.com/contact/
The Gull accepts submissions of poetry, creative prose, artwork, photography and articles as well has having some truly excellent words of the day on Twitter. Or is that Word of the Day…

https://www.theshortstory.co.uk/the-short-story-home/about/
The Short Story website. Clue is in the title.

https://flashfictionmagazine.com/blog/books/
How flashy is your flash?

https://spelkfiction.com
Spelk post three 500 word stories a week, from both new and established writers, from the UK and overseas. They like short sharp flash fiction.

http://www.talesfromgower.co.uk/327566841
Jill Moffat’s great site, full of info and stories, and she’s also a dedicated re-tweeter of Fabulous Opportunities For Writers. Thanks Jill!

and last but not least for this little lot,

https://zeroflash.org
They’re a lovely lot at Zeroflash: supportive, helpful and good at getting it out there.
‘ZF is a flash fiction competition and magazine. The winner receives an illustration of their winning piece, a hefty £10 via Paypal, an interview with Uprising Review and an audio performance and recording of their piece.’

How cool is that!

This year’s impossible-to-find Christmas indulgence has to be static outdoor plug-in timer-controlled fairy lights. Now, you could argue that because fairies themselves don’t exist I shouldn’t be surprised that I can’t actually find any Fairy Lights.

But there are boxes and boxes and tubs and rolls of fairy lights in the shops – but all annoyingly Multifunction, or Electrically Nuts as they were described to me recently. Ok, so let’s go with ‘multifunction’ – why 8? Why 8 functions? How many do we need to choose from? On, Flash, FlashyFlashFlash, FlashyFlashyDim should do, surely? But 8?! Before this turns into a pre-Christmas rant that could end with a parsnip and some stuffing placed where it shouldn’t, let me explain. My hunt started in August, an idle thought that whispered in my ear as I was sitting in the sun one summer evening after – clearly – too much chilled vino de blanco. Outdoor static lights I can plug in to a timer, I thought, how hard can it be to find those? And so here we are with December 25^th edging ever nearer and I am no closer to finding a simple set of lights that isn’t out to blind me or trigger a headache. Unlike my white wine, which was Chilled White, my hunt involved not only static lights, but Warm White lights – something else it seems impossible to find. Ultra Bright Burn Your Eyeballs Out White lights, sure, zillions of ‘em. But something softer on the eye? Try an eye patch.

But then, Lo! Like you know who seeing a star (not a flashing one, nor an ultra bright white one) I found a website which purported to sell the required outdoor, plug in, timer-controlled, warm white, static fairy lights. Joy! I made my selection but decided to check the Description box first. 8m of Ultra White Multifunction Lights it stated. Hmmm. That’s not how they were advertised. And then up popped the little box: Live Chat.
Well, I thought, I think I just might…
You are typing…Hi, can you confirm if the warm white static lights on your site really are warm and static, and not multifunction as stated in the description for the static lights please?
Boris is typing…Hi What lights were you interested in?
You are typing…the static ones…(and it’s are, not were)(didn’t say that of course. Perhaps I should have)
Boris is typing...yes there static
You are typing…(y apostrophe r e) (grrr) but in the description it states multifunction. And ultra bright.
Boris is typing…hold on.. I’ll check
(long pause)
You are typing…hello?
Boris is typing…Yes the description for the ultra bright multifunction is the same for the warm white static
(pause)
You are typing…why?
(pause)
Boris is typing…we have to put all the descriptions on the site
(pause)
You are typing…er… what?
Boris is typing…If you clicked warm white static then thats what you’d get
You are typing…(grrrr..) But how do I know that if I chose one thing and the description for it states something else, that I’d get the right thing?
Boris is typing…We’ve got them in red and blue to
You are typing...(Grrrr…too, not to) OK! Thanks for your help. Bye.

Ok. Enough. I’ll try the shops I thought. So I tried the shops. And again was baffled by the current fashion for multifunction lights. The trouble is, when plugged into a socket and timer, as soon as the plugged-in timer clicks in, the 8 Million Multifunction outdoor lights revert to the first function, which is I think called Panic Party. Or Party Panic. Either way it frightens the owls and gives me a migraine.

Last week I was in the company of a Swedish lady and she had some unusual gold S-shaped ‘things’ resting on the top of an internal doorframe. Candle holders, she explained. For the Christmas tree. “You use lit candles in your Christmas tree?!” I asked, astounded. “Oh yes! It’s very Swedish! We balance the top bit around a branch and place a thin candle in the tiny dish, light it, and all stand back and clap.”

As the whole thing goes up in flames, presumably. Mind you, I can see the appeal…

Only in the countryside, eh? Thankfully, the avian driver of the vehicle wasn’t fined by an officer of Her Majesty’s finest for allowing her passengers to travel without a seat belt, nor did she incur a fine herself  for travelling without one.
Goodness knows how – or indeed if – she reached the pedals, or managed to change gear with those flappy, feathery wings. It was a good job she wasn’t breathalysed, although if she had been, instructions to Keep Blowing Keep Blowing Keep Blowing! may have thrown up a few Beak-to-Breathalyser issues.

So how did this sparky little madam end up in the back of a Landy? How indeed. I could say she was being filmed for BBC’s Countryfile. I could say she was being busted from a chicken farm and being taken to safety. I could say that I found her wandering around willy-nilly on the side of the road (that does happen round these parts). Or I could say she was being taken for a day out. Choice is yours; you decide. Whatever the reason, rest assured she will be appearing in my next  series of short stories, A Collection of Unexpected Short Stories.

Here’s a taster. Appropriate, really, considering the temperature today!

WINTER

She puffs out her chest as the north wind buffets her small body and ruffles the delicate feathers tasked with protecting her from the chill of winter. Perched amid a leafless web of spiky hawthorn branches the sparrow finds little shelter from the icy confetti that falls silently and steadily around her, yet she is content to wait. A trudge of foot, a gentle call and a sweeping hand knocks snow from the bird-table and it falls a second time, a mini avalanche of ice dust to land on the snow below. Crumbs of fatty nuts and bread are hastily scattered across the snow-dusted table and then she is alone once more. With darting swiftness she takes flight and lands amid the food, a rich brown berry on the pure white snow. Hungrily she gathers what she can. To make it through this darkest of seasons she must eat every day, the scales of sustenance holding her struggle so stay alive precariously in the balance until the earth tips Springward again. She eats quickly before her banquet disappears beneath fresh snowfall.

            Other birds, with empty stomachs and keen eyes are also looking for food. On soundless wings a sparrow hawk descends – because she too, must eat.

One of the great things it has to be said about self-publishing is that you get to meet lots of new and inspiring authors. All those writers, myself included, who would sit in glorious isolation bashing away at our keyboards whenever we got the chance can now get our selves out there and meet up with other like-minded people and suddenly it’s not such a lonely profession after all. It’s very reassuring to hear of others’ highs and lows, of how they came to create the characters they did, how long it took them to reach that final edit, why they chose the cover they did – and one of the best ways to do all this is to mix and mingle at a book launch. But why launch a book, I hear you ask? Isn’t it enough just to get it all together and press print? Er, no. Your Book Launch is a good indication that you take your work seriously – and in public. You have to be prepared to answer questions, to know what you’re talking about and to engage your readers enough for them to want to buy your book by the barrowload.

Last week I was at  Warwick Books in central Warwick for the launch of Elizabeth M Cox’s book
Tragedy at Bawley Bay, a 19^th century mystery with many twists and turns. Author Elizabeth M Cox gave a thorough and detailed explanation of her reasons for writing the book in the first place, and of her research into 19^th century Gravesend. After she read an excerpt, a trickle of questions soon turned into a flood as the audience warmed to the idea that you could grill the author to within an inch of their grammatical structure, with diverse and enlightening questions. Once armed with this new insight into the creation of the characters, exposition and research, the book came alive – far more so than just reading the blurb on the back page. Book your venue, invite your audience, prepare your presentation and away you go.Information gleaned from such an enjoyable evening as that had last week and that I would like to pass on, is this:

My Five Point Plan For Writing and Selling A Book:
1 Write It 
2 Choose a good cover/cover designer
3 Get your book proof and copy read
4 Re-write your book (repeat 3 & 4 above several times)
5 Make like a ship and launch it

…dawned bright and clear and sunny. There was an autumnal nip in the air, and the sun reflected off the calm waters of Fowey harbour. No, no porpoises. Traitors. After a hearty breakfast of deliciousness which included freshly baked bread – yes that’s right – freshly baked bread aboard a boat!! – we set off toward Falmouth, intending to drop anchor in Carrick Roads. Don’t be mad, I hear you say, you can’t drop an anchor in a road. But the stretch of water east of Falmouth harbour is called just that – Carrick Roads. Luckily for us there is superb pub there too – who’d have thought – called the Pandora Inn and is described as a creekside inn. Creek is not a word used so much these days, let alone appendaged to the word ‘side’. Creekside. Got 13^th century written all over it, hasn’t it.

Technically, as far as addresses go, the Pandora Inn nestles on the side of Restronguet Creek, which is not a word you should try repeating after several pints of Cornish ale. There is a pontoon that stretches out from the front of the pub, enabling yachts to sail up and tie up, so allowing the crew to step straight off their vessel and walk along the boards straight into the pub. Being such a large vessel, we were moored a rib-ride away and once again the skipper James took us — well – not even ashore – took us to the pontoon where we too scrambled onto it and then into the pub. Indeed, there are worse ways to spend a sunny Thursday evening.

As dusk fell we returned to the Eda Frandsen and as we approached across the water the rich smell of curry and naan breads welcomed us. Yes, super-chef Chloe had been up to her tricks again and an enormous, last supper feast awaited us.

Bang went the diet for a sixth day.

That evening we all packed in preparation for disembarking the following morning. Clothes that had arrived damp had stayed damp, absorbing a faintly salty and diesely smell which was quite attractive in its own way: it meant we’d done something, been somewhere, had an adventure. No Lavender and Ylang Ylang Blossoms on our clothes, no sirree. Email addresses were swapped, promises of sending on photos were made – it seemed it was true. The adventure was over.

Friday morning. Dawn. The sound of the anchor being winched up was our alarm call. Feet on deck above us signaled activity: Charlotte was topping, tailing, steaming, stretching, pulling, heaving, and any other ‘ing’ you can think of; we were set for Falmouth Harbour.

It felt odd to be back in our land clothes. Jeans, boots, pink coat – all so very out of place. I didn’t feel dressed without my Gill jacket and three pairs of trousers. I’d got used to clumping about the deck in my sailing boots. I was even growing to like the thick oily mat of hair that swamped my skull. Hairbrushes, clearly, are for wimps. We moored just off shore and stood about in a quiet group, not wanting to be the first to climb in to the little orange rib and be taken back to land. To the rest of the world. It was almost getting to the point of choosing straws except we didn’t have any straws. Hugs, kisses, goodbyes; I like to think of them as Hugs, Kisses, See You Agains.

To James, Chloe and Charlotte. Thank you.
Don’t forget to pack your bottle of travelling champagne. Always.