Those of you who have read my short story collection for adults, A Modern Life, you may have read my short story, Fantasia.  It was different from the other stories in my collection in that it was a universal story whereas the others were what I considered to be “adult” fiction. (Yes there was even some sex in A Modern Life.) Yes, I know – shocking! Who would have thought the mild-mannered Mrs T would write about sex? Ho hum. Anyhow, I really wrote Fantasia as an educational story for children as a way of discussing climate change and the social responsibility we all have to each other and to our environment. (Alongside the fact that I’m just a big kid and like writing silly stuff.) Well, at long last, I’ve finally got around to publishing Fantasia as a separate entity so it can reach its intended audience. Currently, it’s

There are few words I can say to express my joy at having finally receiving my first press review for The Changing Room. So far The Changing Room has been wallowing in obscurity. I am certainly not foolish enough to believe one review will alter its future but, for a brief moment in time, it gave me a deep satisfaction to know that for at least for one professional reviewer my story worked. In fact, I couldn’t have asked for a better review and it’s true to say a tear of joy ran down my cheek. It is only one brief moment, but for me it will be a memorable one. The review is now circulating up North in the UK and so far appeared it has appeared in the Lancaster Evening Post, The Blackpool Gazette, St Helen’s The Reporter and the Yorkshire Evening Post. You can read it HERE.

I am on Shaz’s book blog today doing a Question and Answer session. I amazed myself by actually giving sensible answers. Well mostly sensible ones – a few rogue answers may have slipped through the net. In other news, I have been having a fairly traumatic time of late. Luckily, this has not been open heart surgery. However, yesterday it consisted of blocking the sink, spilling caustic sink unblocker over my trousers and visiting my MP to let off some steam about a) Britain’s overlooked children in the state school system and b) the lack of school transport which now requires me to do the school run twice a day again. Ugh. On the plus side, a) I made a lasagna which I didn’t burn (too much) and b) the cover for my children’s short story Fantasia arrived. More about that soon. Now I feel I should end this very short

You can find me on Female First today with my Top Ten Things I Want My Readers to Know About Me And yes, I did steal a few one-liners from my blog and drop them in amongst the new stuff. Time was of the essence. You know I’ve discovered the pressure of being an almost celebrity is enormous. Although, sadly, I still have to make my own lunch. Bah humbug. Right, now I’m off to do some more work. *Runs bath water*

I love being British. There’s a lot of rubbish that’s said about us but frankly I wouldn’t want to live anywhere but in ol’ Blighty. Because we have stories like these. Now I know I shouldn’t laugh, as potentially this could have been very serious, but I’m afraid I am. Other countries have wars, terrorists and mass murderers – we have a lone ginger-haired guy who wants to shoot Prince Charles and put red-haired Harry on the throne. If that idea wasn’t funny enough, this fella’s reading material consisted of:“The Terrorist Handbook,” “The Complete Improvised Kitchen”, “The Jolly Roger Cookbook,” “Assorted Nasties,” “Silent Death” and “The Poor Man’s James Bond.” Oh God. I fear I may never stop laughing. There’s a story in this story. It might just have to be me who writes it. “The Ginger Who Would be King.” Oh lord, this is too much entertainment for a Wednesday afternoon.

I am interrupting my lunch to report on this important article at The Daily Mail. Now if you can’t be bothered to read it, I’ll summarize. Apparently some dating guru did some research and came up with this astounding theory: Men of all ages like young women best. Preferably about 20 years old. No, really? You could knock me down with a feather. This dating guru also put his research results into graph format and gave a lecture on it. Seriously. What the *uck? I feel sorry for him. Pity the PhD in philosophy or atomic structure didn’t work out. But a hey a job’ s a job!  Anyway, I need a job so I reckon if I stick some really obvious crap onto a graph and get myself a microphone and a couple of speaking gigs I could make a fast buck too. I’ll start with a comparison of

So if you’ve been wondering where I have been of late, I have been having one of those interludes where life all goes pear-shaped. Hence the lack of blogging. In the last two weeks, amongst a number of other longer-term issues I have had to contend with, I’ve filled my car up with the wrong petrol (not quite as bad a crashing it which is my usual norm), had a very unpleasant bout of food poisoning and discovered one of my sons is dyslexic. Let’s deal with this dyslexia diagnosis first. Now some of you who have read this blog for a long time may recall that, on occasions, I have indulged in the odd vitriolic educational rant. And, quite frankly, this very late diagnosis of dyslexia seems to justify yet another one. My poor son has endured twelve years of being ignored by the state school system – in

Next week, my boys return to school and I will begin the final preparations for an event that I have been working for a long, long time. On September 24th, a publicity campaign for The Changing Room organised by leading publicist Becke Parker begins. So far, my novel has been read by very few – finding visibility as a self-published author is almost zero particularly if you write outside of romance, thrillers and niche genres like science fiction. However, I am hoping that with help from Becke and publishing specialists Whitefox who have supported me for almost a year on this journey, I may be able to bring The Changing Room to the attention of the wider world and kick start a career as a professional author. I am, however, prepared to fail. In many ways, success or failure may simply depend upon whose desk my book lands, if it even

*This is an article I wrote for the BBC a few years ago. Normal zany service will be resume next week along with an update on my self-publishing journey and some news relating to The Changing Room.* Say “NO!” to Camping! With the prospect of long summer evenings and some pleasant weather ahead I won’t be the only housewife fantasizing about lying on a beach, nibbling grapes, sipping Pina Coladas and being waited upon by a handsome young manservant. Unfortunately, when I’m in the middle of these and other exotic fantasies a whining voice asking an annoying question often brings me back down to reality. A recent example of this was when I had my hands immersed in the washing up bowl whilst dreaming about surfing with Damien Lewis when suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by the question every mother dreads; “When can we go camping?” Now imagine the onset