Too British? Awkwardly British part 2

I recently read a review of one of my books where the reader felt duped in learning I was American, because my book sounded British. Now I admit I found this a little annoying. When writing a British book, I want to sound British. And just because I didn't grow up with it doesn't mean it isn't real. In fact, most Americans, if they met me, would think I sounded British. However... I do recognize that in writing I can't sound entirely British. Kindly readers have pointed out Americanisms to me that I never would have realized (or rather, realised). So it seems I can't win. I can't write an authentic British voice, and I can't write an authentic American voice, either.

What, you say? But you ARE American! Of course you can write in an American voice! Dear reader, I cannot. I have spent twelve years in the UK. I had three out of five children here. I am SURROUNDED by people speaking in English (or Welsh!) accents, using English (or Welsh!) expressions. Two out of five of my children have British accents themselves. An authentic American voice is beyond me.

So what ends up happening is I sound like a bit of both, and I don't know what to do about that. In fact, in writing my latest Willoughby Close books, I worried that I wouldn't sound British enough, because those irritating little American turns of phrase would slip in. And yet somehow I ended up sounding too British!

I suppose I will always have to walk this line between America and England, for my whole life, so I ought to stop whinging--or rather, whining about it. According to the fascinating book Third Culture Kids, if you live in a country that is not of your parents' birth for more than two years, you cannot look upon your 'home' country as truly home any longer--and that is certainly true for me!

But I suspect this type of polarity will be true for many as people move countries. So at least I am in good company, straddling two cultures--and two languages! 

New Year's Resolutions

Every year my family and I try to write down three ways we want to grow in the coming year--in mind, body, and spirit. I usually write some form of exercise, a plan to pray and read the Bible, and then a wild card mind one--last year I wrote I wanted to learn to play piano. Sadly, I rarely keep these resolutions going past January. I admit I didn't touch the piano!

So this year I decided to be more realistic and reasonable. My goal this year is actually to do LESS. That is, to write less. I love writing books, and I tend to get grumpy when I don't write for a few days, but the last few years have been manic writing-wise. I've finished a book and started a new book the next day. I've written through holidays, in the evenings, even in the car (not while driving, though!). Deadlines have hounded me constantly.

I did it because of a good thing--so many opportunities! So many publishers! And best of all, so many stories to tell. But as I kept writing frantically I found I was losing my joy. That heart skip of excitement when you start a story. It all felt like plodding.

And even more alarmingly, I was distracted at home. Always trying to carve a minute here, an hour there to write. And my family suffered as a result. I suffered too, because even going for a coffee with a friend felt like it was taking away from my writing time. And that is definitely not how I want to live my life!

So my goal for 2016 is to write less and live more. I still have deadlines, and for the next four months they're quite tight, so I can't actually enact this resolution for a little while, but it is in my mindset. Don't go crazy trying to meet those deadlines! Ask for extensions. Enjoy the moment. Treasure your children, because with one about to fly the nest, I know they don't stay little or even around forever. And enjoy the stories I choose to tell, because joy was the reason I got into this business.

What about you? What are your new year's resolutions, if any?

What I'm Reading and Writing

A few years ago I read Ann Voskamp's excellent and inspiring book, 1000 Gifts. It really challenged me to be thankful for the small and everyday things in my life, and I recommended it to many people. I was thrilled, therefore, to see that she'd written another book--and one that seemed to speak directly into my life. It's called The Broken Way and its subtitle is 'A Daring Path to the Abundant Life'. The essential theme is that we need to be emptied to be filled, we need to give to receive, we need to lose ourselves in order to be found. It's thought-provoking and poetic--Ann Voskamp's style takes some getting used to, as it is more stream of consciousness than straight narrative. But I'd highly recommend this book!

As for what I'm writing... well, I've already written it, but the second book in my Willoughby Close series is available for preorder. It's called Meet Me At Willoughby Close and it's about a Manchester single mum and an Oxford professor and their unlikely, funny, and heartwarming romance. You can preorder it here.

Monday Book: A Yorkshire Christmas

It's Monday, time to spotlight a book from my back list and today, with the frost on the grass and a nip in the air, I am picking my Christmas novella, A Yorkshire Christmas. I loved writing this story, and I also love the novella format. It's long enough to get pretty deep into the characters but it doesn't get messily sprawling or overwhelming. Of course, I'd love to visit Ayesgill Farm again, and I might have to write more stories set in this picturesque corner of Yorkshire (near where I once lived--is there ANYWHERE I haven't lived?! Well, yes, of course, but sometimes I feel like there isn't!!)

One funny fact about this novella is last year, a year after its release, it was given a new cover for the UK:

And this cover gave the book a new lease on life! It was in the top 100 at Amazon UK for several weeks, which just goes to show you may not be able to judge a book by its cover, but they do matter!

Here is the blurb: Wealthy New York City girl Claire Lindell isn’t looking for a Christmas miracle or happiness when she abruptly decides to hole up for the holiday at her godmother’s cottage in a little Yorkshire village, and lick her wounds from a near disastrous romantic decision.

After her car skids into a snow bank, Claire may have accidently found her perfect Christmas and the family and love she’s craved when she offers Noah Bradford of Ayesgill Farm help to push the back end of one of his sheep out of the icy mud, even if she’s going to ruin a brand new pair of Prada boots during the rescue.

What’s a little leather when love’s on the line?

And the link to buy it is here

Also my new Christmas novella, A Cotswold Christmas (do you sense a theme?) is out next week and the link to buy it is here

 

Monday's Book: This Fragile Life

Monday is the day on the blog when I highlight one of my past books, and today I decided to pick This Fragile Life, which was my first women's fiction published with Carina in 2013. I'm working on my third story for Carina, currently titled A Good Neighbour, and it's reminded me a little bit of This Fragile Life.

This Fragile Life is, I must confess, the book I am proudest of. It's also the book that is closest to my heart, and the one that was, perhaps surprisingly, the easiest to write. This book flowed from my fingertips--for the most part--and I never really questioned myself during the writing of it. Really, it was a joy to write, but heartbreaking too, because of the subject matter.

Here is the blurb:
You love your best friend.
You trust her with your life.
But could you give her the most precious gift of all?
Alex’s life is a mess. She’s barely holding down a job, only just affording her apartment, and can’t remember when she was last in a relationship. An unexpected pregnancy is the last thing she needs.
Martha’s life is on track. She’s got the highflying career, the gorgeous home and the loving husband. But one big thing is missing. Five rounds of IVF and still no baby.
The solution seems simple.
Alex knows that Martha can give her child everything that she can’t provide. But Martha’s world may not be as perfect as it seems, and letting go isn’t as easy as Alex expected it to be.
Now they face a decision that could shatter their friendship forever.

I've really enjoyed the reviews of this book, because I took a risk in not having a hint of a major plot point in the story blurb, so it would come as a surprise to the reader (and if you haven't read the book, hopefully I haven't spoiled anything for you!) I didn't want people to assume this is just another 'surrogacy story', because it isn't. And overall, the reviews have been positive about not revealing the surprise, so the reader is able to go on the same journey as the characters.

Now I am working on a similar story, in that it is set in New York City, has a dual narrative, and deals with some tricky and emotive issues--plus it has a 'twist' in the middle of the story. (I'm wary of using the word 'twist' because it seems overdone in fiction these days--so many books are advertised as having a twist you won't see coming, and so you spend the whole book looking for it).

Anyway, if you haven't read This Fragile Life, you can find information and all the buy links here.

Dog Walk

One of the lovely things about having a dog is when I'm stuck at a point in my story I can always go for a walk. The other day I needed to mull over some plot points of my latest book, all while enjoying the lovely scenery of Vauxhall Field:

Here is a shot of the Monnow River, which runs near our house:

And here is a view of the fields with the Monmouth town centre in the distance. You can see the spire of the priory church:

Walking in such lovely surroundings is always restorative, but unfortunately I am still stuck on my story! Maybe I need to take another walk...

Monday Book: The Vicar's Wife

Monday is Book Day on my blog, where I highlight a new or old release. Today, in honour of the new cover of my third Tales from Goswell series, The Second Bride, I thought I'd write about my first Tales of Goswell novel, The Vicar's Wife.

The Vicar's Wife in some ways feels like the first 'big book' I wrote. It isn't really; Far Horizons, Another Country, and Down Jasper Lane all were released in hardcover before I wrote it, and This Fragile Life came out at the same time. However, The Vicar's Wife was the first trade paperback I held in my hands, involved the first literary event in a bookshop I ever did, and was kind of a big deal as it came out when I was living in Cumbria, in the village Goswell is based on. The overwhelming support of my church and community still brings a smile to my face--there was a signup list in the church for copies. The local bookshop sold 200 copies in the first week.

The idea behind the book is of a woman who moves from New York City to rural Cumbria--exactly the move I made. In the book, however, the heroine Jane Hatton dislikes Cumbria; I loved it. She finds a shopping list from the 1930s stuck behind a pantry shelf--I only wish I did! And she discovers more about the vicar's wife of the title, Alice James, who lived in the 1930s and is entirely a product of my imagination.

Three years on from the release of The Vicar's Wife, I am working on the copy edits of the third book, and planning the fourth. I love this series even more now that I've sadly moved on from Cumbria. It always brings me back to the place I love, and the people who gave me such an amazing and unstinting welcome.

You can learn more about The Vicar's Wife and The Tales from Goswell series here.

Doing Good

Last night at church our sermon was on the verse from Titus, "be ready to do whatever is good". The minister talked about volunteering even when you don't feel like it, looking out for opportunities to encourage, etc, but I must admit I felt a little bit flummoxed. My own life, especially in a new place where I don't know many people at all, feels as if it is very few opportunities to do good, at least outside my family. My average weekday has me ferrying children to and fro, making meals, doing laundry, and writing. My only interactions are the chitchat on the school run (and even that is limited--today it was raining, and I drove) and the occasional conversation in a shop or the library that rarely rises above the banal. Admittedly I am hoping this will change when I meet a few more people, whenever that happens. But how to do good in my wider community? How to make a difference?

That got me thinking about writing, and whether the stories I tell are 'doing good'. I like to think so, although part of me doubts whether one of my frothy romances really does much good in this world! But I have received emails and letters from readers who have been touched by my stories and in some cases encouraged to think deeply about certain issues, and for that I am grateful.

I suppose every one of us has to consider what good we are doing in the world. Our tendency is to default to ourselves--look at any two year old hoarding her toys--but we also desire to do good, to make a positive difference, in part, I think, because it makes us feel good. My children started to experience this when they began picking out presents for their siblings at Christmas. They were all far more excited to give than to receive. My husband and I continue to try to show them ways to serve rather than be served, but in all honesty it is increasingly hard in this self-sufficient world where people hoard their privacy and hide behind electronic devices. Still, we need to try.

So here I am on a rainy Monday morning, sitting at my kitchen table wondering how to make a difference in this world. I guess it's time to start writing!

Inspiration all around

Our moving truck in New York City

For those of you who follow my admittedly sporadic blog, you have probably noticed that my family moves a lot. We always hope we'll settle where we land, but so far that hasn't happened. Since I got married I've moved from Cambridge to Yorkshire to Connecticut to New York City to Cumbria to the Cotswolds to Wales. Whew!

Starting over isn't easy, even when you're used to it. My children have all been in school a week and that feels like a relief. They are starting to know their way around and have made a few friends. The worst, I hope, is over.

One nice thing about living in lots of places is the inspiration I've found in each one. Most of my books are set in places I've lived, whether it's my women's fiction such as This Fragile Life (set in New York), my Tales From Goswell series (set in Cumbria) or one of my Christmas novellas such as A Yorkshire Christmas (set--well I'm sure you can guess).

Next month I have a new series coming out set in the English Cotswolds. I only lived there for a year but I was inspired to write about the beautiful village and countryside where I lived, as well as the interesting mix of people--London transplants and old farming families, and how they all managed to get along. A Cotswold Christmas is the first book in what is The Willoughby Close series, set in the entirely-fictional-but-a-little-bit-based-on-reality village, Wychwood-on-Lea. You can preorder it here.

In the meantime, I am trying to get to know my new surroundings, a small, friendly market town in Wales, built between two rivers, with beautiful, hilly countryside all around. Will I become inspired? Watch this space...

News and a Guest Post from Author Cathy Lamb!

I apologise for the silence on this blog; we moved house in August, as many of you know, and it has been quite overwhelming. I will be posting photos of our new village life in the Cotswolds, but first I want to turn this post over to Cathy Lamb, who is a wonderful author and new friend--she read my book Rainy Day Sisters and provided a lovely excerpt. I've loved Cathy's books, but I never got to know her (in a cyber way, for now!) until recently. So please do welcome Cathy to my humble blog :)

I'm posting a bit about her, links to her social media, and a wonderful excerpt of her latest novel, My Very Best Friend, which is set in Scotland, not too far from where I used to live.

About Cathy: I live in Oregon. I'm married,with  three kids, and a cat that meows at me and I meow back.  I also have one parakeet that never stops talking. I write as much as I can on my back patio so I can look at my flowers.  I’m a terrible cook and also terrible at skiing. I have a wild imagination and spend hours daydreaming.  This is my ninth novel.

An intriguing snapshot of My Very Best Friend: 

An old stone cottage in Scotland

An overgrown garden. A man in a kilt.

Lingerie bike riding at midnight. Tea and Crumpets

Two best friends.

One is missing.

An Excerpt: 

My name is Charlotte Mackintosh. I am thirty-five. I love science. I have degrees in physics and biology. One would think I would work in a lab or teach at a university. I don’t. I write time travel romance novels. My ninth book was released four months ago.

My pen name is Georgia Chandler. My mother was from Georgia, a southern belle, and Chandler was her maiden name.

For me to be a romance writer is a perplexing joke. What romance? I don’t have any in my life, haven’t for years, since The Unfortunate Marriage. I have named my vibrator Dan The Vibrator. That should tell you about the sexual action I get. Which is, so we’re all clear, none.

My late father, Quinn, was Scottish, hence my last name, and his mother had the Scottish Second Sight. She saw the future, all mottled up, but she saw it. Sometimes she didn’t understand it herself. I remember her predictions, one in particular when I was seven and we were making an apple butterscotch pie with a dash of cinnamon.

“You will travel through many time periods, Charlotte,” my grandma said, rolling out the pie dough with a heavy rolling pin, her gray curls escaping her bun like springs. “All over the world.”

“What do you mean?” I rolled out my dough, too. We were bringing the pies to the Scottish games up in the highlands the next day, where my father was competing in the athletic contests and playing his bagpipes.

“I don’t know, luv. Damn this seeing into the future business. Cockamamie. It will drive me to an early grave.”

“I want to travel to other planets and inspect them for aliens.”

She placed her pie crust into the buttered glass baking dish. “You will live different lives, child. You will love deeply. And yet…” She paused, her brow furrowed. “It’s not you.”

“I don’t think so, Grandma. I love science. Specifically our cells. Mutations. Sick cells, healthy cells. Toran and I pricked our fingers yesterday so we could study our blood under my microscope.”

She eyed me through her glasses. “You are an odd child.”

“Yes,” I told her, gravely, “I am.”

My grandma was right about time travel. She simply dove into the fictional realm of my life without realizing it. McKenzie Rae Dean, my heroine, travels through time, lives different lives, and loves deeply. But McKenzie Rae is not me. See how my grandma got things jumbled up and yet dead right, too?

Many of her other second sight predictions have come true, too. A few haven’t yet. I’m a little worried about the few that haven’t. Several in particular, as they’re decidedly alarming.

I live on a quiet island, called Whale Island, off the coast of Washington. I have a long white house on five acres. I rarely ever have to leave my view of the ocean and various whales, my books, garden, and cats. I have had enough of the world and of people. Some people call me a recluse. I call them annoying.

My publisher wants me to travel to promote my books. I went on book tours with the first book, hated it, and have refused to go again. They whine. I ignore them. What do they know? I stay home.

I walk my four cats in a specially designed pink cat stroller twice every day. They each have their own compartment with their name on a label in front.

I read gardening books for entertainment, but they are only second to my love of all things physics and biology. I have a pile of exciting books and articles in my house on both subjects, including astrophysics, string theory, the human genome project, and cellular and molecular biology. Seeing them waiting for me, like friends filled with enthralling knowledge, flutters my heart.

I might drink a tad too much alcohol. Wine is my vice. I drink only the finest wine, but that is a poor excuse for the nights the wine makes me skinny-dip in a calm bay by my house and belt out the Scottish drinking songs my father taught me while cart wheeling

I am going to Scotland because I must. My mother asked me to go and check on my father’s house, fix it up, and sell it. “I can finally close the door to the past,” she told me. “Without cracking down the middle, but I need you to go and do this, because if I go, I’ll crack.”

I told her, “That doesn’t make sense, Ms. Feminist.”

She waved a hand, “I know. Go anyhow. My burning bra and I can’t do it.”

I have not been back to Scotland in twenty years, partly because I am petrified of flying and partly because it’s too painful, which is why my mother, usually a ball breaker, refuses to go.

I’m nervous to leave my cats, Teddy J, Daffodil, Dr. Jekyll, and Princess Marie. Teddy J, in particular, suffers from anxiety, and Dr. Jekyll has a mood disorder, I’m sure of it. Princess Marie is snippy.

But it must be done.

My best friend, Bridget Ramsay, is still living there. Or, she was living there. We write letters all the time to each other; we have for twenty years.

Until last year, that is. I haven’t heard from her in months.

I don’t know what’s going on.

I have an idea, but I don’t like the idea.

It scares me to death.

Truth often does that to us.

And her social media links, and list of her wonderful books:

Novels:

My Very Best Friend

What I Remember Most

If You Could See What I See

A Different Kind Of Normal

The First Day Of The Rest Of My Life

Such A Pretty Face

Henry’s Sisters

The Last Time I Was Me

Julia’s Chocolates

Links

Website - http://cathylamb.org/

Email: CathyLamb@frontier.com

Twitter - https://twitter.com/AuthorCathyLamb

Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/cathy.lamb.9

Pinterest - http://pinterest.com/bookwriter12/

Tall Poppy Writers: http://tallpoppies.org/

I hope you enjoy Cathy's books, as I do! And I'll be back shortly to update you on my very different village life!

Books! And More Books!

Last Saturday my lovely friend Marian invited me to sign copies of my latest release, The Lost Garden, at her bookshop in Whitehaven. My husband came and helpfully took this photo:

It was a fun afternoon as I always like chatting about books and writing, and there was homemade gingerbread and chocolate cake to boot!

The Lost Garden takes place in the fictional village of Goswell, which bears a not-so-startling resemblance to St Bees. I do find a lot of inspiration here!

In other news, May soldiers on, grim and grey, but I am trying to find the silver lining in that if the weather was gorgeous it would be even harder to leave in two months' time!

The comfort of a village life

It's been a long time since I've written, and that's because a lot has happened. A lot of not-so-good things. In mid-March the school where my husband works and children attend announced quite suddenly that it is closing in July due to dwindling pupil numbers. This came as a big shock to everyone, because from the outside the school looked like it was doing well. It certainly came as a shock to us!

What has happened over the following few weeks demonstrates the power of a village community. Over 700 people came to a meeting immediately following the announcement to find ways to keep the school was open. A 'Rescue Team' was formed and has been campaigning tirelessly to keep it open, and many, many people have volunteered to help. You can learn more about it here.

However, two days ago the Governors of the school announced they would not rescind the closure notice, and so the school is, in fact, closing. What this means for us is that we will lose our lovely village life, and move elsewhere--watch this space!

The other very hard thing that happened was last week my dear father was diagnosed with leukaemia, with a prognosis varying from a few months to a year or possibly more. This also came out of the blue, and was (and is) very hard to bear. My father is the most wonderful person, so funny and wise and loving. My children adore him. I flew out to be with him and my mother last week:

While I was away my village community rallied around to help my family, taking care of children, making meals, and writing us cards of care and support. I am so thankful for everyone here. They have proved stalwart friends in both good times and bad.

Meanwhile spring has burst upon us at last, and the sunshine and warm(ish) weather is a balm to my wounded soul. Plus I have lots of new books out, which is always exciting. My romance set in a small town in Vermont is out now:

You can buy it on any ebook platform. I also received ARCs of my novel for Penguin/NAL, Rainy Day Sisters, which I am very excited about. Coming to a bookshop near you in August!

Meanwhile I am enjoying the sunshine and treasuring the days, because I am realising how precious and fleeting time is.

A Cumbrian Christmas

It's that time of year again. Christmas! Or rather, Advent. I love the build-up to Christmas; I love the decorating, the baking, the buying of presents, and all the events that we have for school and church. Christmas concerts and nativity plays (this year at the primary school it is 'Christmas with the Aliens') and mince pies and mulled wine.

Here at the Vicarage we have a few of our own special events. The Thursday before Christmas we host the village's weekly 'pop-in' at our house; basically, it is a morning with coffee, cake, and chatting, finished off with some Christmas carols. I enjoy having people over and it also helps me get the house clean for Christmas, the kind of kick in the pants this reluctant housekeeper needs. We also have the Youth Group Christmas party next week, which involves a Yankee Swap (also known, I think, as a white elephant??) and lots of iced sugar cookies.

Next week there is a carol service at the Lifeboat Station down at the beach, and on Saturday my daughter is playing Christmas carols with the school band at the local castle (can castles be considered local? Well, we have one and it's twenty minutes away.)

So much busy-ness and fun, but amidst all that I try to find a moment or at least a second or two to be quiet. This December I am reading The Greatest Gift  by Anna Voskamp, who is the author of the bestselling book 1,000 Gifts. I'm enjoying a chance to reflect on the meaning of Advent and Christmas amidst the chaos of our household--the latest concerns/arguments being who gets to put the star on top of the tree (every year we put a note in the box of decorations saying whose turn it is, and every year the note mysteriously disappears) and who gets to eat the first chocolate in the Advent calendar. It's December 3rd and no chocolates have been eaten because this issue has not yet been resolved.

Do you look forward to the Christmas season? What do you like in particular? To celebrate I will give away one copy of my novella A Yorkshire Christmas (Kindle only, I'm afraid!) to someone who comments or sends me an email telling me something they like (or don't like!) about Christmas.