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| 'Sunset Bardsey' by Tom Tomos |
Drinking my tea this morning, I ruefully listened to Radio Four’s Today programme giving author David Nicholls over four minutes of airtime to promote his new book, Us, and to tell listeners how pleased he was that his comedy about marriage and family had been long-listed for the Booker prize. I subsequently tweeted Today telling them I’d be happy to do a soft interview talking about my novels which are also about relationships and marriage, but they have yet to take me up on my offer, so I can only assume that when male authors tackle these subjects they automatically become newsworthy. I’m sure David Nicholls is a good author - don’t all those sales prove it? - yet I can’t help but think that given the same amount of promotion, I could be a 'good' author too. As things stand, my ‘discoverability’ as an author, is mainly due to whatever I can do on social media – short of being really annoying – and on special deals on Amazon (or, last weekend, Kobo). The lower the price, the more willing readers are to take a punt, but it really did make me wonder, standing in the queue for a coffee in the Turner Contemporary café last week about what’s really of value to people when I noticed that the price of a single cupcake there, was higher than any of my ebooks.
Grumbles about relative values apart, driving to the supermarket a couple of nights ago, Tom and I were reflecting on what we’ve achieved between us since moving to Wales nearly nine years ago; paintings sold, novels published, academic achievements etc. Our quiet self-congratulations nearly became our last words as, suddenly, as an impatient van-driver, fed up with waiting behind a bus, sped head-on towards leaving us, so I thought, with nowhere to go but A&E. I still don’t know how we escaped, although Tom’s excellent driving skills had a lot to do with it, but, gosh, I’m grateful to be here. Being alive seemed a good reason to crack open our latest foraging recipe; Hedgerow Fizz made with elderberries, blackberries and a few rosehips. Sometimes you have to take stock and realise how lucky you are. Cheers!
Comments
It's funny how near death experiences bring things into perspective. I also wish people realized they don't have spare body parts lying around at home, so it's better to be a safe driver.
Thank you, Chanpreet, for your support as always. I'm fine really, just get a bit irritated (and I hide it so well!) by the blatant ads on what purports to be a news programme!
The image of those 'spare body parts'is chilling. I really thought my number was up for a split-second and felt very sad for everything I thought I was going to miss.
It certainly did, Sally. It seems we've both doing some thinking about the future lately. I prefer the more meditative kind than the shock and awe variety though!
Indeed, Canadian Chickadee - time to celebrate my 'new' life! xx
BIG relief that you weren't wiped out; we had a near miss just outside Dingle ourselves, puts everything into perspective! BIG TIME!!!!!
Bravo to both of you for so, so many accomplishments. You all are very multi-talented and really do have many ways to expressing your uniqueness.
I count myself very fortunate to know you.
(I've always thought art history a bit random in its coronations, and when I am in places like The Metropolitan Museum of Art am drawn to art by unknown artists. And as for books, well stories have been told and written for a long, long time, and let's hope that they will continue to be told and written for a long, long time.)
xo
Yes indeed, Frances, I really don't know how Tom got us out of it, but we'e still here. Coronations is a very good word for it. I've just felt particularly exasperated recently by the roll of the dice, however as Tom reminded me when I was moaning about never going to the ball, I am actually at the ball so ought to concise er myself very fortunate. Thank you for your generous comments.
Thank you, Sue. Yes, we will enjoy the fizz and celebrate the good things... And I'll stop being a bit grumpy!