Time and Taglines: 2013 365 Challenge #214

My new website (again!)

My new website (again!)

I recently wrote out the list of outstanding projects I want to finish RIGHT NOW and there were fifteen items, ranging from ‘send bookmark artwork to the printers’ to ‘finish Class Act and Finding Lucy‘.

Hmmm. It might be time for some realism and perspective.

The problem is I love my job. Not a problem, you might think, except I only work two days a week. You know how, when you don’t like your job, the weekend flies by and the week draaaaags? Well it’s like that for me, in reverse. Not that I hate spending time with my family. But I do love working on my writing projects, and two (separate) days a week just isn’t enough.

I mourn the days I was self-employed BK (before kids). All that time I spent and wasted, taking things easy, going on photo shoots, painting abstracts. Why didn’t I know, then, that I wanted to be a writer? How much more might I have accomplished? Except probably I wouldn’t have done.

There’s nothing like not having something to make you yearn for it, and that’s true for time too. The fewer hours available, the more we cram into the time we have. Mostly. Some days, actually, there’s so much to do I am overwhelmed by it, and I waste the day on a project that doesn’t need doing. Or I faff.

My refreshed website - still needs work but I was up til 1am getting it this far!

My website before the redesign

Today threatened to be one of those days. It was 33C and humid. I had my novel back from the proofreaders, but it was too hot to think (and there was cricket on the radio).

So I decided to try and be productive, and tackle something else off my to-do list. I opted to start on the marketing for Baby Blues, but I gave up writing press releases after twenty painful minutes, and decided to rebuild my website instead.


Or, it would have been, if technology had been on my side. Apparently my computer doesn’t like 33C heat either and was running sooooooo slooooow.

I don’t know how I didn’t chuck it out the window (except I didn’t have the energy.) Also I couldn’t find a template I liked through my service provider (MrSite) and, as I don’t write HTML, had to make do with what I had. I couldn’t fit a decent sized name and the images I wanted in the header, so it isn’t the best website redesign in the world. But it’s done!

I also tried to come up with a tagline for my writing. Another thing probably best left to a different day. I’ve been putting it off, because I write in a saturated market and many of the best taglines are taken or sound too clichéd (like ‘Let Love Take You Home’ or ‘For Love, Life and Friendships’ which were two of my ideas).

In the end I came up with ‘Seize Life, Trust Love, Cherish Dreams.’ I’m not sure I like it. It doesn’t exactly trip off the tongue and isn’t that memorable, although it has all the elements I believe are in my novels: they’re not just about love and Happily Ever After, they’re also about finding your place in the world, choosing the right path, fulfilling dreams. I’m not sure if that applies to Dragon Wraiths, but it doesn’t exclude it at any rate. Like the header, it will do for now.

A productive day? I’m not sure. But a day survived, which sometimes is enough.


Below is the next installment in my novel Two-Hundred Steps Home: written in daily posts since 1st January as part of my 2013 365 Challenge. Read about the challenge here.You can catch up by downloading the free ebook volumes on the right hand side of the blog: 


Claire stepped out into the roof-top garden and gasped as the air hit her like a wet flannel. After thirteen hours on an air-conditioned plane, followed by a long trek through the freezing, sterile airport, she had yearned for some fresh air to sooth her dehydrated skin and clear her lungs of stale air. Walking outside was as refreshing as putting her head in an oven.

At least it will put the moisture back in my skin: you could ring the air like a dishcloth.

Even though she’d visited hot and humid countries before, there was something about being in transit from a country in the early grips of summer to a country in deep winter that had left her unprepared for a tropical stopover.

Claire picked a spot beneath the sunflowers, dancing in the warm evening breeze, and pulled out her iPad to take notes. Writing posts for her blog might keep her mind off the craziness of her current actions. Is it still my blog? Who owns it, exactly? I suppose Carl will take all the credit, and all my followers too. Not yet, though, not until I decide whether to turn down his counter offer.

Trying to fathom out her work situation was one of the many things she didn’t want to think about, so Claire took some photos for the blog and began writing.

The sun was beginning to fall below the horizon and Claire prayed for a release from the humidity. A roll of thunder resonated around her and the wind began to blast like a hairdryer, stirring the sunflower leaves and setting the heads bobbing. Rain drops began to fall, hot and heavy, landing on the exposed parts of the ground with a splash. Despite the thunderstorm, the air still had the density of soup. Giving up on her post, Claire lay back on the concrete bench and closed her eyes.


Claire sat up with a start and reached for her bag. Relief flooded through her as she realised it was still under her hand, and still contained her tablet and phone. After a long, shuddering breath, a second quiver of alarm ran through her, setting her nerves jangling.

Did I fall asleep? How long for? Oh crap, don’t let me have missed my connection.

With shaking hands she pulled out her phone to check the time. Her heart thumped as she saw it was 2pm. I can’t have slept that long! She swung her feet round and stood up, grasping the railing nearby for support as a wave of dizziness swept through her. She inhaled deeply, the muggy air sluggish and heavy in her chest.

Wait a minute. It’s still dark. It can’t be afternoon.

With a groan at her own stupidity, Claire realised her phone was still set to UK time. What’s the time difference? Six or seven hours? It’s only around 9pm and my flight doesn’t leave until midnight.

She wondered how Darren was getting on. He’d opted to spend the stopover time going for a tour of Singapore. He’d tried to persuade her to join him but she couldn’t stomach sharing a tiny space with him for a second more than necessary. Just thinking about another twelve hours wedged between him and Mr Grumpy made her shiver, despite the heat.

Next time I fly long-haul, I’m booking early and getting a window seat.