Thursday, 28 October 2010
TEN MILLION, AND COUNTING.....
Saturday, 23 October 2010
I'm absolutely THRILLED that one of the aspiring authors I was mentoring for the New Voices competition has made it through to the final four. And commiserations to those who didn't make the cut - the standard was unbelievably high and I hope that each and every one of you will complete your manuscript and send it in.
Good luck to you all - and Carrie - you're brilliant!
Wednesday, 20 October 2010
SHAMEFUL SECRET, SHOTGUN WEDDING
It's a great cover and I think it's a great book (well, I would, wouldn't I?).
Have you bought it? Read it?
Friday, 15 October 2010
The other day I had lunch at one of my favourite restaurants in London.
You'd never find it - not unless you knew it was there.
Tuesday, 12 October 2010
NEW VOICES SECOND CHAPTER
Saturday, 9 October 2010
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.--Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.
And wonder which is your favourite speech or quote from Shakespeare....