18 Jul Hot Chiselled Bodies vs Babies that pop out like Blackheads
The thing about releasing a book is then people want to know – ‘when’s your next book coming out?’ Never mind that you just gained twenty pounds sitting on your butt (eating and) writing this book and your children have forgotten what you look like…more importantly, they have forgotten the high standards you have for things like general hygiene and they can’t understand why you have emerged from the hermit cryogenic chamber really irritated with the mess and general sloppiness of their lives, bedrooms and appearance. ‘But mum, we’ve been living like this for months now and we’re fine…we like it…we’re happy!’ So then they tell you nicely, ‘Why don’t you go write another book?’ (And leave us alone…)
Anyway, I digress…So here I am, with four books done in the Telesa Series and waiting for the printer to churn out a few thousand copies of ‘The Bone Bearer’ so I can start my book tour where I get to meet with fabulous readers in Auckland, Hamilton, Wellington, Brisbane, Samoa and Hawaii. There are visits to schools and book launch events planned that also celebrate Pasifika dance, music and art. The launch events always make me feel vaguely ill because of the speeches involved but I like doing the school visits – talking to teenagers about writing and career dreams and working hard to make aforementioned dreams happen is always fun. Usually because these teenagers actually pretend to listen to me and be interested in what I have to say. (Unlike the two teenagers that live in my house…) Which brings me to the first point of this blogpost – if you’re interested in having a Telesa author visit your school then please do email me about it and we’ll see if we can make it happen. I would like to go to American Samoa on this book tour because I have such awesome memories of how beautiful it is there, but haven’t figured out how to make it happen yet. (So if you have some ideas, let me know.)
Now to answer that question of: What book are you writing next? I’ve got three books in the works at the moment. First one is a TELESA novella that tells the story of one (or two) of the key characters from the series. If you want to find out WHO and read a piece of this novella, then please sign up for my newsletter because once we get 500 subscribers, I’ll be sending that out to them. Use this link to sign up –
I’ll be choosing 3 winners from the subscribers to gift print copies of The Bone Bearer to with the next newsletter. I’ve got lots of short stories, deleted scenes, unreleased excerpts from the Telesa world which I will be including in the newsletters as well and I don’t want to drive blog readers nuts by posting them on here. So IF you’re a Telesa fan then sign up. If my universe doesn’t get too crazy this Telesa novella will be out in November.
The second book in the works is my romantic comedy novel. Chick-lit is my favourite genre to read and I’ve always wanted to write one, Pasifika style. I’m having heaps of fun with it and the main character may or may not have nicknamed the male lead with the nickname hashtag #Wolfman. As in, he reminds her a teensie little bit of…
Third book coming out soon is one I’ve been playing around with for awhile. Inspired by my blogging and tentatively titled:
*The Demented Domestic Goddess: A Survival Guide
Here’s a piece of it for your reading pleasure. Let me know your thoughts on it…does it sound like a book you’re going to want to read? Yes, no, maybe so? So there you have it folks, now you know the answers to: What are you writing next?
An Excerpt from: The Demented Domestic Goddess
There are women who pop out babies like blackheads. Just a little squeeze and there it is. Messy, bloody, and raw but a quick clean with an antiseptic wipe and it’s all good. Such women can then dab on a bit of makeup, slip on that little black dress and they are all ready to face the world like supermodel Elle Mcpherson. Looking like they never ever had a zit before. See that perfectly co-ordinated, perky child that just skipped past us? That’s their little zit. Always clean. Sparkling. Polite. Never screams. Never poops in public. Never eats their own goobies or gives other children black eyes.
I am not one of those women. And I don’t have mess-free zits that appear and then magically go away. (I have gigantic rupturing abcesses that fester and ooze.) So if YOU are one of those women, then you shouldn’t be reading my book. I hate you.
This book is for women who don’t ‘glow’ when they’re eight months pregnant. Who don’t post half naked pictures of their ‘BUMP’ on Facebook because you can’t tell their ‘bump’ from the rest of their bumpy, blobby self. This book is for women who know what God was talking about when He said, “In pain thy shalt bring forth children…” And totally agree with Shakespeare when he said, “Woman thy name is misery.”
This book is for women who have too many children. Either because they were wildly irresponsible or crazy. (Or both.) Or because they had a hugely generous heart and adopted lots of random offspring from other crazy, irresponsible people and now they are surrounded by buckets of little people and wondering, ‘How the hell did I end up here?’
This book is for women who love their kids but also fantasize about ways to get rid of them so they can breathe air without anyone else’s name on it. Women who hide in the bathroom for a quiet moment and yet still those determined demons hunt her down, bang on the door, whine, squabble and argue for her weary attention.
This book is also for women who are contemplating motherhood in one form or another. Consider it my gift to you – a reality check of what to expect so you don’t actually have to try it. Unless you’re feeling a little dangerous and foolish…
If you can tick any of these things on the checklist, then you should read this book. And give it to all your friends and family who have no clue what kind of hell you endure on a daily basis. So they can laugh and feel better about their own crappy lives…
This book begins with a disclaimer : I never planned on being a mother. Especially not to five children. I’m not sure I ever even planned on being a wife. A girlfriend/lustful object of affection/goddess of adoration – yes. But a wife? No. Never planned on that either. But twenty years ago, someone asked me to marry him. And since I couldn’t think of any other way to be with him forever, (or how to have sex with him without feeling evil) – I said yes. Since then, five other complete people have entered my life, my personal space, my home, my hermit cave. My heart. Some grew in my uterus like little aliens. Another grew in somebody else’s uterus and then alien invaded my life anyway. Each of them has wriggled into spaces that didn’t exist before. Making room for themselves. Like parasitic leeches that just won’t let go, no matter how hard you try to shake them off.
No, I never planned on having a family. But now, here I am – the creator of a clan, the maker of a mob, the lead player of a posse. A family. With a father, a mother, children, grandparents and buckets of cousins. Some days, I’m not quite sure how I got here. I look at all these people who want things from me, who hug me and tell me they love me – and I am bemused. Who are you people? How did we all end up here stuck in the same house? Some days, I’m not quite sure that I want to stay. I don’t want to be somebody’s wife. Somebody’s mother. Some days there isn’t enough air left for me to breathe after all this lot have had their fill and I am smothered. Suffocated by them all and I wish they would all disappear.
But then other days, I can’t imagine being anywhere else. Being with anyone else. Because I am not the same ME. Because each of them has changed me, marked me, challenged me in a myriad of different ways.
This, this is a story about me, the Fabulous Five and how they taught me everything I know about fear and faith. And continue to teach me – because I am a very slow learner. This is a story about how the Hot Man and I contributed to the population of the planet at great financial expense, mental distress and extreme physical suffering. And survived. And still survive. And we are still together. And the Fabulous Five have all turned out to be rather amazing and continue to amaze us. And how we try to love them all ( most of the time) and manage not give in to the desire to run away. By default, this is also a story about the people who gave me life and then refined me in a furnace of familial fury and fun – MY mother. My father. My five siblings. It is highly possible that none of them will want to talk to me after this book is done…